Ocasta

It was possibly a stupid thing to do. Twelve months ago I was fitter and owned a whippet of a XC bike with gears. Last Sunday the Solitude and I went racing. My first ever bicycle race. I forgot that in the six weeks I had owned it I had been out for just two rides with the lads. I forgot that these had been around fast, swoopy northern Swinley forest and that the race was in the short sharp hills of the southern part. I didn't stop to think if I had the right gearing.

With optimism to the fore I signed up for the race - fun category, only two laps. I wont go off too fast I reminded myself. I went off too fast. It didn't seem like it at the time. Fifteen minutes in my heart was pounding, my lungs overworked. Down - this bike is so well balanced. It flatters my limited skills. I could keep pace with the few riders near me. Level - I take it easy, slow down the heart rate. Up - I wish I had the capacity to attack the hills but I don't. Pain and patience, nearly the end of the lap. I could always stop.

The first lap draws to a close. I am alone. All thought of stopping at the end of the first lap evaporate.

It's all about pacing I remind my self. No problems to the first step hill. Dismount and push. I pass some lad struggling at the back of the juniors race. It gives me little satisfaction. Top of the hill. Going well on the single track, tricky climb ahead. I will make it. Twisty, slow, upwards. It hurts. I keep going. The top of the hill! My lungs explode. I stop. Breathe, rest, suffer, rest. Back on the bike. Pacing is the key I tell myself. Well that and fitness. It's too late to do anything about that. I stay on the bike for the next hill. A great downhill ahead. My concentration is meandering. I find just enough to pick a smoother line than before. It conserves my limited energy reserves. The end approaches. Off and pushing once more. The junior I passed earlier passes me. Oh well.

The end is an anti-climax. My first race over. No cheering crowd, no friends to share the moment. Just me and a sense of achievement. I left; hot, sweaty and tired with many lessons learnt. Stupid idea? Of course, but I'd do it again in an instant.