Epilogue

Cyclists love numbers, so here's a few. I've raced 31 times this year, in six cross country races, two road races, two time trials, ten cyclocross races and eleven criteriums. Five times I've raced more than once in a day. I've raced in every month of the year with the exception of April. I've won the grand total of one energy gel, one water bottle, three bottles of wine, and £10 in cash. Probably not enough income to turn pro on.

It's a relief to have reached the end of the year, and I'll be taking a complete break over Christmas. Compared to anything I've done before, this year has been a big step up in terms of commitment, particularly in the last few months, when motivation to get out of bed and train on cold dark mornings has not always been there. That said, there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that it was worth all the effort, and every hard training session makes embracing the pain of racing that bit more bearable.

I've learned a lot about bikes and bike racing this year. Having dabbled in cross country and cyclocross for years, this year I've learned how to do it all (a bit more) properly, such as the value of a proper warm up and a good look at the course beforehand, rather than just rolling up at the start line and hoping for the best. XC and CX are both require a lot of preparation, and sometimes assistance during a race. Thanks to everyone who has helped me out on occasions this year, when one pair of hands wasn't enough. I've also jumped two-footed into the deep end of road racing. To stretch that metaphor, I was initially the annoying one splashing around and making a mess while everyone else serenely swam lengths. Thanks to everyone who has had the patience to teach me all the unwritten rules.

One of the best parts of racing cyclocross week in and week out has been become part of the little community that turns up to each race. As well as building up little rivalries with other racers, and exchanging exhausted handshakes at the end, the whole atmosphere is great: the kids races, the mums and dads cheering them on (and the kids who enthusiastically cheer on the seniors), the folks selling home made cakes.... It's a bit like being at a village fete, albeit one with terrible weather.

As for 2015, will I do it all again? I'm sketching out plans in my mind already. I'll probably continue as jack of all trades and master of none again throughout the spring and summer, but cyclocross will be the priority again so the season won't begin for real until September. Before then I'll try and get a bit more cross-country racing done than last year. As for road racing, I'll just continue to be the idiot in the doomed early breakaway.

14 December: Welsh Cyclocross Leauge final: Mountain View Ranch, Caerphilly

The last race of the year, and the end of my cyclocross season. The Welsh League wraps up comparatively early (most cyclocross leagues run into January), which suits me fine as it means I get to take a break over Christmas and not have to resist all the temptations it brings. But first, there was the small matter of one more hour of pure sweet hell.

As this round is local to Cardiff, I took the opportunity to ride up and take a look at the course on Saturday. This turned into something of a cyclocross clinic, as I was joined by another David from Ajax. He was entering his first cyclocross race, and I'd promised to go through the basics with him. What I didn't realise until we were chatting on the short ride to the course is that he'd never ridden off road before! He coped admirably, with only a bit of falling off in practice (better then than in the race).

The course meandered slowly downhill across open ground, then briefly into some woods, returning to the finish gradually uphill across an old section of golf course, taking in some fun drops in and out of bunkers on the way. It was a hard slog in practice, and promised to get harder by race day. It was a dry and crisp morning on Saturday, and some of the ground was firm from a frost. However, it was clear that it was going to be very heavy going - parts of the ground were already very wet, and rain was forecast overnight and into Sunday. I didn't mind this, and part of me was even relishing it - we hadn't had a really wet race all season, and I didn't mind getting muddy one last time. In fact, I don't mind at all getting wet and muddy during a race, it's the trying to stay warm and dry beforehand, and then sorting out a nightmare of wet and filthy kit afterwards (and of course trying to get yourself warm and dry). All very well if you are a pro with a motorhome waiting for you; somewhat different when you are getting changed in a car park and have to clean your own bikes and kit.

Race day indeed dawned wet; not chucking it down, but on-and-off rain blown along on a brisk breeze. Compounding this was the fact that the course was on top of hill and a bit more windswept. As I expected, I arrived to see that the course hardly resembled what I had ridden yesterday: everywhere that had been green was now brown! A quick recce revealed that the bottom, wetter half of the course had cut up about as much as I expected - it was all still rideable, but parts would become quicker to run during the race - whilst everything else, on better draining ground, was muddier than yesterday but holding up comparatively well. It was still muddy enough to mean changing every scrap of kit, and washing the bike after practice. I decided to forgo my usual last-minute ride of the course before the race in the interests of keeping the bike clean, and headed off for a long road warm up.

It was soon time to head to the line - a 100m charge across grass and straight into the boggiest section of the course. I got an OK start across the grass and then the next few hundred metres were chaos. Everyone bogged down in the mud, some trying to continue to ride while most ran; I stayed stubbornly on the bike a little too long before cutting my losses, shouldering the bike and sprinting through the mud for all I was worth. Another short stint back on the bike and then off again for a corner that was quicker to run, nearly ending up on the floor as one of my mud-clogged cleats refused to release smoothly as I swung myself off the bike. Another rider then slipped in front of me on a short rooty climb, forcing me to dab. All in all it took half a lap before I felt like I had any breathing space at all, as opposed to being shoulder to shoulder with someone. Nevertheless, I felt like I was moving forward rather than backwards, and was pleasantly surprised to have Claire count me through as 18th at the end of lap one.

Quintessential cyclocross. Photo by Howard Goldberg.

The race settled down remarkably quickly. By the end of the third lap I wasn't really in touch with any other riders but seemed to be alone. However, I couldn't relax, and knew I had to work hard to maintain my position in the top 20. The course was now in such a state that lines were changing every lap, and two sections that had been rideable earlier now forced me to shoulder the bike and run. As happens in bad conditions the race was also becoming one of attrition; I made up a few spots as riders pulled over with mechanicals from mud-packed drivetrains. The mud didn't seem to be affecting my bike too badly (I've finished races on bikes where the wheels would barely turn anymore), but I had the luxury of a pit crew today, so I made use of them and took a clean bike about two thirds of the way through the race.

It was then just a case of grinding on until the bell. In fact I never heard the bell, as I got lapped by the race leader on my final lap, cutting my race one lap short. Fine by me.

Across the line and straight into a waiting warm jacket, then into one almighty clear-up operation. The weather was getting wetter and windier, and by the time the car was packed my hand were numb. The cafe next to the course was a godsend; everyone piled in there for end of season presentations and some well-earned hot food.

Just the small matter of the results then. I was pretty sure I'd made the top 20, but was very happy to find I'd equalled my best rest of the season with 14th. In terms of the overall standing in the league, this was enough to mean I hung on to a place in the top 20 (20th, to be precise!).

30 November: Welsh Cyclocross league round 9: Gilwern

The end of the season is in sight, and in a way I am quite glad. It's been a long year of racing, and I felt completely wiped out after the race at Pembrey. Training also gets more and more difficult to fit in as the days get shorter. Just two rounds to go, both of which are quite close to Cardiff, meaning a little more time in bed on Sunday morning.

Gilwern is another new venue to me, as it only held a race for the first time last season. Practice revealed it be quite interesting - narrow, bumpy, twisty and greasy at the start of the lap, quite a long woodland descent to an open field section with literally a spiral of tape to negotiate, then a blast across the field and up a gravel climb to finish the lap. In complete contrast to Pembrey last week, it was only really the final third of the lap where it was possible to go full gas for more than a few seconds.

The race started half way round the lap, so that the climb could spread the field out. I got off the line well, but got squeezed hard at the first bottleneck and lost out pretty badly. It was a pretty hectic first lap, with plenty of leaning on people and being leaned on into corners! The race then soon settled down for me, into a familiar pattern of damage limitation on the slippery technical first half of the lap, and trying to claw back time on the open sections and up the climb. These are the sort of conditions where everyone is going to make mistakes and I had my fair share of two wheel slides, some of which ended up sending me pretty wide and into the bushes or through the tape. I managed to stay upright for the whole race though.

It was a bit of a frustrating race; I was going as quick as I could through the slippery corners, and the front end broke away from me from time to time to confirm that I was right on the limit of grip/my technical ability. Nonetheless, plenty of people around me were making it look a lot easier (and faster), and so I was losing time and seemingly powerless to do anything about it. The slippery sections also deteriorated as the race went on; I seemed to try a different line through some sections every lap, none of which seemed any better than each other. So, that's yet another weakness identified and something to try and work on for next year. In spite of this, a relatively thin field meant I came home in 24th place, securing an unspectacular but respectable haul of points towards the overall league standings.

23 November: Welsh Cyclocross League Round 8, Pembrey Country Park

Good old Pembrey. Butting up almost to the beach on firm, sandy and well-draining ground, this course always makes a change from mud. It's also pretty flat and open, so is usually a bit of criterium on dirt, favouring those with the biggest legs.

I arrived to good weather - sunny and mild for the time of year. Mind you I suppose some people would argue that's not good weather for cyclocross! The course was a bit more twisty and technical than previous years, but still very fast.

Practice and warm up done, I overheard one of the marshals remarking on the size of the field - 165 riders had signed on, smashing the previous record for the league, itself set only a few rounds ago. As we rolled to the start it was obvious that this was going to mean some stiff competition: as well as all the usual suspects, I was gridded next to Steve James, a rider who is up the pointy end of National Trophy races (and due to ride the World Cup at Milton Keynes the following week). Probably not someone I was going to beat into the first corner, or at all.

Remedial cyclocross tip 101: if you forget to start your Garmin and only realise this after the commissaire has said "I'll start you in the next ten seconds", this is not the right time to start fiddling with it. Consequently not the best start of my life, down in 40th place or so into the first bend. But who should I see leading the field as I look ahead? Yep, the man who started next to me on the third row, Steve James (who went on to win the race).

I picked a few riders off in the first half lap or so, but after that each position gained, or defended, was a struggle. By the nature of the course, there is a lot of time spent pedalling flat out, and aware I had not made the best start I was trying to wring out every bit of speed I could and accelerate as hard as possible out of each bend. I found myself in a fight for position with one rider or another for most of the race; wheel-to-wheel racing like this is great, but I seemed to be the one getting gapped more often than creating a gap! It also meant I'd been riding at 100% pretty much continuously since the start, as there was very little rest anywhere on the course. Therefore when I found myself alone with about three laps to go, I did seem to back off a bit, and even thought that I might blow up completely, something that has never happened to me in a 'cross race before.

As I started my bell lap I had another rider in sight up ahead, so it was back to full throttle for one more lap. I managed to close the gap, and create a small gap of a handful of seconds, but I had to work hard all the way to the line to stay ahead.

Apart from a less-than-perfect start I had ridden hard and mistake-free all race, but I had a feeling I was further down the field than normal, especially given the large turnout. Indeed, the results revealed that I'd only placed 33rd. Somewhat disheartening when you know you couldn't have tried any harder.

2 November: Welsh Cyclocross League round 6 - Melin Mynach, Gorseinon

More mud.

After the surprise of a dry-ish round at Brecon, normal service resumed. I'd raced here once before in 2012 and had a nightmare with a bike that clogged to a standstill with mud. After heavy rain on Saturday, the race on Sunday was always going to be messy. The drive down the M4 through some torrentially heavy showers on Sunday morning just rammed the point home.

A recce of the course proved entertaining; a real mixture of surfaces and only a couple of sections that promised deep mud. It was going to be mostly wet and slippery rather than thick, clogging mud.

My usual pre-race routine is to recce the course an hour or so before the start, then change into my race kit, have something to eat and drink, and warm up on the road for 20 minutes, leaving 20 minutes for one last look at the course and last minute faffing. As I warmed up in the rain while the youth race took place on the course (and hence churned it up), it became clear that this was one of those days when a lot of the information I'd gleaned in practice was going to be irrelevant, as I'd be faced with a much wetter and muddier course than an hour ago.

I lined up in my now customary 30th or so on the grid and got a rather lacklustre start. After a short sprint, we went more or less straight into a series of slippery switchbacks, where I seemed to be continually on the wrong line. Claire called up 32nd place after the starting loop. Ho hum. I settled down though, and picked a few people off on lap one whilst trying to re-learn the best lines on the now much muddier course. A perfect example of this was a small gravel ditch at the bottom of the course. This was rideable in practice, but a bit tricky, and I'd devoted a few minutes to making sure I could nail it. However, I never rode it once in the race, as the corner immediately prior to it was so muddy it was quicker to run, and once off the bike I may as well run through the ditch before remounting.

Claire called up 28th place at the end of lap one. Slow but steady progress made then. After a few laps things went quiet and I seemed rather on my own, first time that's happened in a race for a while, and it's hard to make sure you keep going hard when you are under no pressure, particularly in tricky conditions. I tried to press on though, while staying focussed and not making any mistakes in the increasingly slippery corners. I found the limit of adhesion a couple of times as my tyres slid sideways, but I always stayed upright.

In the last couple of laps I caught one rider but also came under pressure from behind, and had a good last lap tussle with one rider, right to the line. The lap ended with a series of wide but muddy corners, then a dismount for a set of planks and a short sprint to the line. I held onto the cleanest line through the muddy corners, got to the planks first, jumped back on and managed to do just enough to cross the line ahead. At the time of writing I don't know where I came overall; the judges are probably still trying to work it out having spent the afternoon trying to read increasingly muddy numbers on peoples' backs. They had a difficult job to do today.

It's three weeks until my next race now. I'm looking forward to the break. It will give me a chance to take a week off from training, and give the bike some much needed TLC. Oh, and clean the inside of the car, which looks like someone's been mud wrestling in it.

26 October: Welsh Cyclocross League round 5. Brecon Leisure Centre

The middle round of three Sundays in a row of racing cyclocross, and the half way point in the season, for me anyway. I've settled into the rhythm now of packing the car with bikes, kit and food, and unpacking it all in a much messier state several hours later.

Brecon has a reputation from being a pretty muddy race, not helped by hosting the British Schools Cycling Association cyclocross championships the day before our race (why didn't we do cyclocross in PE when I was at school), meaning the course is well-used by Sunday. However, despite a fairly wet week the weekend was mostly dry, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the course holding up well as I rolled round in practice. I've raced here before and the course was largely unchanged: twisty sections up and down grassy banks, interspersed with a couple of flat blasts across playing fields and two sets of planks to dismount for. A classic grass roots level cyclocross course really, and a good one at that.

I was gridded on the 4th row and got a decent start. Apart from a couple of corners, the first kilometre was wide open and allowed plenty of space to move up. I held on to a place in the top 25 on the first lap - it was reassuring to still be able to see the front of the race for all of lap one and not have the leaders disappear after a few corners. I was far enough up the field to avoid any bottlenecks, but I was in the thick of it and had to fight for position and avoid a couple of the inevitable first lap crashes.

As things settled down, I found myself part of a group of four riders that gradually fell apart and reformed throughout the middle part of the race. One rider kept getting a gap in the more technical sections; two of us worked together to pull him back on the straights. There was very little rest on the course, and I was giving it 100% to stay with the group. I realised this was even more critical when a glance backwards revealed another half a dozen riders breathing down our necks.  If I backed off or made any mistakes I would fall rapidly back through the field. Gradually, our group fell apart once and for all, with me running third out of the original four. I was still working as hard as I could, desperately trying to keep in touch with the rider in front, all the while aware I was being caught from behind. The last couple of laps became a fight to defend my place. Despite riding as hard as I could whilst keeping things smooth in the increasingly slippery corners, one rider caught me. I stayed with him for a few hundred metres, but as as soon he had a gap I was powerless to respond. On the bell lap I was then being caught by another rider, and had to claw out the last of my reserves to maintain the gap I had.

I finished the race feeling completely exhausted, nauseous, and a little dizzy. But I was satisfied with my race - I'd lost the battle I'd been in mid-race, but I could not have given any more effort, and I'd managed to ride smoothly and make no big mistakes despite being on the rivet all race. I'd crept into the top 20 in 19th place.

25 October: Maindy Criterium (4th cat/veterans)

A one-off trip back onto the tarmac. Maindy Leisure Centre in Cardiff boasts an outdoor 500 metre velodrome. This was a one-off end-of-season afternoon of racing. I'd come along for some extra training, and to work for a couple of guys from AJAX who needed to grab a couple of points in order to move up from 4th to 3rd cat. My job was to try and shut down any attacks, and keep the bunch together to ensure they could pick the the points they needed in a bunch sprint.

About 25 guys started, not bad for a road race in late October I suppose. After two laps done practically at walking pace, the first attack came and it all got fast and furious. A group of three got a gap, which I did my best to claw my way across. Once things (relatively) calmed down, I realised team mate James (who needed points) had missed the move and was out the back of the now-depleted bunch. I dropped back to him and tried to help him close the gap. By the time we started to work together the gap was about a third of a lap. Over the course of the next ten laps three of us worked hard and made no impression on this whatsoever, and then watched it start to grow instead of shrink.

After this things are a bit of a blur. James agreed the best thing was to lose a lap so that he could conserve energy in the bunch. As they came round to lap us, there was another attack, which I tried, and this time failed, to close down. In doing so I fell out the back of the bunch. With a cyclocross race the next day to worry about, I cruised round cooling down for the remaining few laps of the race.

19 October: Welsh cyclocross league round 4. Carmarthen showground

Welcome to the season proper - with mud, and lots of it.

Another long trip, this time into West Wales and a showground on the outskirts of Carmarthen. We were sharing the venue with a car boot sale, which apparently had been in full swing since 6am. 6am!! Now, I know racing bicycles around muddy fields in the Welsh winter may seem a pretty eccentric way to spend your Sundays, but the fact that some people are prepared to get up at 5am on a Sunday for the chance to buy some bric a brac just proves that, well, to put it diplomatically, everyone is different...

It was a blustery day, but bright with just the odd light shower around. It soon became clear that the wind would be a bit of a factor, but the mud more so. The course was flat apart from where it snaked up and down one small section of banking. The lower lying sections were more or less under water, and the parts being used for the junior races were already getting very churned up. I don't mind it when the going is heavy, but changing every scrap of your kit and washing your bike after warm up is a bit of a drag.

The start was 200 metres or so of unmade road, and then straight into the mud. It was impossible to move up on the straight, but I was on the inside for the first few turns and managed to brake late and pass a good few riders down the inside of corners. The first lap was crazy - there were lots of tight switchbacks in the mud, and everyone was passing and repassing into them, rubbing tyres and bodies while all the while looking for the least worst line through the quagmire. Add to that a couple of riders crashing in the pack and you have a recipe for mayhem. Wonderfully fun mayhem.

It seemed like I was managing to gain more places than I was losing though. After a lap things began to settle down, and I soon got into what would be a race-long battle with two other riders, the three of us sometimes locked together, and never separated by more than a few seconds. Another thing I love about cyclocross is these battles. You try to work out where another rider is weaker or stronger than you, all the while pushing to the limit. Indeed, I learned from my fellow competitors that the muddiest section of the course, although rideable, was quicker to run, as they both passed me doing just that as I turned my pedals slowly through the mud. In the end I came second in the three way battle; one rider opened up a gap that I couldn't close on the last lap, while the third pushed me hard all the way to the line. It's good to race all the way to the end like that; it certainly keeps you motivated!

This was one of those solid but unspectacular races. Despite the race-long fight for places, I struggled to find that extra gear and really push hard at times, particularly on the faster sections of the course where I grasped an opportunity to recover from time to time. I finished 26th, which I suspect is more or less where I will end up in the championship.

5 October: Welsh cyclocross league round 3 (Foxley, Hereford)

A long drive for the 3rd round (the 2nd for me) of the Welsh league in, er, England actually, just over the border.

After a good start to the 'cross season, I signed off my last write up by noting that there would be weeks where things didn't go perfectly, and courses that didn't suit me. Well, this was both!

Another new venue to me, of which I'd heard two things: first, it's as bumpy as anything, and second, stream crossings are a major feature. Practice laps showed that this was indeed the two things you most needed to know. A long tarmac drag uphill started the lap, and from then on it was twisty woodland stuff, with two dismounts for planks, two stream crossings (the second rideable if a bit tricky, the first most definitely a run, up and down a steep bank), and relentless bumps. Practice went OK, and while I enjoyed the course, I knew it didn't suit me as well as it would some other riders.

I was still making up for missing round 1 in terms of placement on the grid, and so was left to find the best start position I could in about 30th place. I moved up a few places on the long tarmac charge at the beginning of the lap, and then the first few corners were quintessential cyclocross: jostling for position - literally, with lots of body contact. Everyone rode hard but fair, and that close proximity fighting for position is one of the things I love about this sport.

Down to the second dismount and it all started to go wrong. I've a bad habit I'm trying to kick, which is unclipping and balancing on top of the pedal on fast dismounts, as a security against not being able to unclip at the last minute. Well today I learned why that is a bad habit, particularly on a bumpy course. My foot slipped off the pedal as I swung my body round and I crashed in front of the planks. I was straight back up as riders swarmed all round me, and I got going again and tried to compose myself. I then had a weird situation of trying to run a 'systems check' of damage to bike or body, whilst simultaneously trying to settle back into the race. It soon became apparent that all was not right - my saddle was loose; I'd broken either one of the rails or the seatpin, and it was hanging on by a thread as I bounced over the bumps. I got back to the pits as quick as I could on a bike on which I was unable to pedal seated, picked up the spare bike, and got ready for a race of damage limitation.

I came out into some serious traffic, and it took me the best part of the next lap to settle down, get used to riding a different bike (my budget does not stretch to two identical cyclocross race bikes - this was my older, not very racey cyclocross bike), and begin picking the riders in front of me off. I then moved up the field steadily but unspectacularly all race, but crossed the line in 44th.

Two rounds gone, and I suspect I have had my best and worst result of my season. Time will tell. Right, I'm off to practice dismounting and remounting on the bumpiest bit of ground I can find.

28 September: Welsh Cyclocross League round 2, Amman Valley

The cyclocross season is upon us. I thinks it's fair to say that everything this year has been building up to this.

I've dabbled in cyclocross since I did my first races back in 2007, turning up to a handful of races each season, and not really doing much more to prepare for them than packing the car the night before. This year I'm putting all my eggs in the cyclocross basket. Cycling-wise this year has all been built up to this, and I came into this first race off the back of seven weeks of what counted, by my standards anyway, of structured training. August and September has involved a lot of early mornings spent running, doing road intervals, or technique drills in the local park (the latter has given me some kind of reputation with the local dog walkers I'm sure, who can't understand why the strange cyclist keeps jumping on and off his bike repeatedly).

So, I was as ready as I'd ever been for the start of a 'cross season, but I had no real idea how ready that was. The Welsh League seems to have spent the years since we moved to South Wales getting bigger and more competitive. Numbers seem to have stabilised at 120 riders or so, but that's a big change from the 60 or 70 who lined up when I started racing this league back in 2009. This expansion was accompanied for me by a steady slide backwards through the field - after a season of making the top 15 on a regular basis, I spent the next three seasons languishing in the lower reaches of the top 20. Having taken almost an entire season off, scoring only a DNF at the final round of 2013, I had no idea what was a realistic target - top 20? Or top 40? Or just top half of the field? I tried not to overanalyse it, whilst in reality doing just that, compounded by missing round 1 and scrutinising the results for names of people who used to finish near me in races.

Race day dawned, with the end of an ususually dry September forecast to give us one more gloriously sunny Sunday. The warm and dry conditions meant packing relatively light for a 'cross race - no need for a huge bag full of spare clothes, or the bucket, pressure washer and brushes. That will all change soon I'm sure. The venue was a pony club complete with 'trotting track' - an oval track, about 800m long and surfaced with gravel. The course spent about a third of the time in this wide open arena, either on the track or twisting through the infield, and the rest of the time snaking through the woodland which bordered it. A couple of practice laps revealed a pleasant surprise - no forced dismounts! There was one rooty drop and one awkward step up across a drainage ditch, but both were rideable in the dry grippy conditions as long as you had a bit of commitment.

The trotting track was used to full advantage to spread out the field, with a full lap of it at the beginning of the race before we headed into the first bottleneck in the woods. This also worked to my advantage - there was room on the wide track for riders to start about 25 abreast, so despite not being at round 1 (and therefore not being gridded), I still got a spot on the front row. Before I knew it the commisaire's words were over, ending with the usual "I will start you at some point in the next ten seconds" and then silence; wait poised for the whistle and 50 minutes of Pure Sweet Hell.

I'm no great sprinter off the line, but get me up to speed and I can go pretty hard for a kilometre or so, and so I managed to get into the first corner in the top 20, and ride a pretty smooth and traffic-free first lap. I played percentages and ran the tricky step across the drainage ditch, as insurance against someone in front of me making a mistake and causing me to stall. Claire called up that I was 22nd at the end of lap one. That seemed like an acceptable place to be, I thought, and carried on pressing, making sure I could defend that, maybe even sneak into the top 20.

I spent the next few laps to-ing and fro-ing with a couple of riders, but the second half of the race was largely me on my own, picking off the backmarkers and waiting for the bell. Somehow, after a completely dry September, the organisers has found a couple of muddy corners, one of which cut up to the point where it caught me out - my front wheel slid as I turned in, I overcorrected and my bars bounced off a tree on the inside of the turn. No harm done, but a reminder to keep things steady and remember how conditions can always change in a race.

I got lapped by the leader on my final lap. If I'm going to get lapped then let it be then, as it means two laps to go is suddenly magically transformed into your final lap. I allowed myself a glance backwards to make sure I was under no pressure in the last few hundred metres, but still tried to press hard all the way to the line. I crossed it in relief; relief that the pain in my muscles and lungs would ease, and relief that months of effort and preparation has translated into a better result than I had allowed myself to hope for. I thought I'd probably snuck into the top 20, so I was very pleased to see the results and find that I'd come 14th.

There's no room for complacency though. I'm sure not every Sunday will go as well as this one, and not every week will the course suit me this perfectly. Indeed, as I write this the long-range weather forecast suggests that the weather will resume normal service by next Sunday, and we could be in for a very different set of conditions.

31 August 2014: Two cross country races in a day

What better way to end the summer than deciding, on Thursday night, to race on Sunday not once but twice.

We're away in the Midlands this week for a couple of weddings and some downtime. Of course the first thing that springs to mind after 'downtime' these days is 'is there a race I can go and do'. With the long range forecast looking good, I found myself hunting on the internet for holiday races. Lo and behold, the final round of the Midlands XC series was on not too far from Birmingham; the series is run by my old friend James, and so it would be downright rude not to show up, for a pre-cyclocross season leg-stretcher at the end of a three week training block, or so I reasoned. Andy, another Midlands buddy, helps James out at a few races so I dropped him a message to see if he was going to be there. He wasn't, because he was helping organise the last round of a summer evening XC series run by his club, Royal Leamington Spa CC. One race at 14.30, one at 18.30, only an hour's (fast) drive away from each other....and so a plan was formed.

Having passed up copious free booze at a wedding on Saturday and managed to get a not-too-late night, I packed the car, buoyed up by perfect weather for racing, and set off mid-morning for Dudmaston, near Bridgenorth. I arrived in plenty of time to catch up with James and warm up with a couple of laps of the fast, dry, 6km-long course, which featured lots of fast singletrack, a couple of steep loose descents and some small drop-offs that even I could get air off. I lined up for the sport race in a very competitive-looking field of about 30 and got ready for a sharp reminder of the chaos and all-out effort that comes at the start of an XC race. Sure enough I nearly crashed 100 metres after the start line, when I hit a rut unsighted behind another rider. I held onto that, and tried to embrace the pain in my lungs and legs whilst fighting for position in the middle of the pack for the first half a lap. Things gradually settled down, for me as a result of getting dropped out the back of a group of four other riders I had been sticking with. With hindsight I could have made more effort to stay with them, but it was going to be a long day, with another race to come, so I tried to just enjoy myself but keep pushing. And I did enjoy myself, vowing to make the effort to do some more XC racing next year as I pushed on round the course, trying to find the fastest lines and keep my legs working hard. At the start of the fourth and final lap I had sight of a rider ahead of me, and spent twenty minutes trying to reel him in. I only managed to closed the gap to him in the final few hundred metres of the race, and he outsprinted me at the end, but it had been something to make me motivated for one more lap.

With all of five minutes of warm down and a race against time to make it to race number two, I packed the car and sped off towards Warwick, for a brisk drive that at no point involved me doing 100mph down the M42 whilst eating pizza off the passenger seat. That would be a terribly reckless way to act just to get to a bike race on time. I made it with about 45 minute to the start. It was (mercifully) a shorter race on a shorter course, and I had time for a couple of warm up laps again, trying to copy Andy's lines through the wooded sections and hoping my legs would feel better in the race itself. The race was a very small affair with only about 30 riders taking the start across all categories, and as a result I bagged myself a spot on the front row. At the start, something I experienced something I can't recall happening to me before: I got the drop on everyone and led the field into the first corner, and through the first section of singletrack. I was relieved of this unfamiliar position before too long, as a rider shot past me up the only major climb on the course, with Andy in hot pursuit. I lost two more places on the first lap, not helped by a couple of silly mistakes - a bit of tiredness creeping in? For the rest of the race I swapped places with another rider repeatedly for 4th and 5th place; he had the edge on me in the technical sections, whereas I made time back to him on the climb.  On the last lap he got away from me as far as he had all race, and like race number one I tried to close the gap, wringing out every ounce of strength this time. Once again I closed the gap only within sight of the finish, but this time I managed to win the sprint and come home in 4th place.

It was good to fit some more racing in at the end of a hard block of training. What's more I got to sharpen up my skills on the dirt after lots of racing on tarmac, and remind myself that XC racing is fun and I should do it more! Now it's time for a week of recovery, then three more weeks of training leading me straight into the cyclocross season.

Crits galore

Another omnibus edition is called for. Too much racing and training and not enough sitting on the sofa with time to get the laptop out and type.

Since the end of June I've managed four further trips to Llandow, twice for cat 3/4 races in July, and we're currently in the middle of a series running through August with a cat 4 only races followed by a race for 2nd, 3rd and 4th cats.

I used the two races in July to try and learn to race a bit smarter. I'm nowhere near able to get in the points (top ten) in these, but there's people from Ajax who can, so the best I can do is try and make myself useful to them and hopefully learn something in the process. So, a lot of sitting in the bunch, trying to maintain a position in the first ten or so riders, whilst doing as little actual work on the front as possible. Staying near the front of the race makes life a lot easier; much like heavy traffic on the motorway, accelerations and decelerations travel like a wave down the bunch, turning a slight increase in pace at the front into a frantic sprint at the back as gaps appear in the pack. I'd always known this in practice, but it was a revelation to me how much energy it saves compared to hiding at the back of the pack. I put myself to work when needed in the last few minutes of the race, both times taking to the front and upping the pace as much as I sustainably could to try and stop any late attacks. As a result I blew up just as everyone else was winding up for a sprint finish, and rolled in pretty much last. I managed to repeat the same trick the following week. I don't really have a problem with that; I'm happy to play domestique as long as it gets me a good workout in the process.

August's races have had a different format, and offer the opportunity for a category 4 racer like me to thrash themselves in a first race against other cat 4 riders, before lining up again to race with the 2nd and 3rd cats, who are fresh, while we lowly 4th cats are tired from finishing a race five minutes ago.

I'd done one cat 4 only race before, with a small field. The first race was a larger and probably also a stronger field, but the pace was manageable and we had seven other Ajax riders in the field, so some strength in numbers. Lots of attacks went, and we tried to ride with a strategy of always making sure every break had at least one Ajax rider in it. This not only makes sure we have a rider in the break if it sticks, but also takes the onus off those of us in the bunch to do the chasing - obviously you don't chase a break down if it's got your team mate in it. This strategy worked quite well, but nobody managed to get away, so with a few minutes left to race I went for it myself. Kicking hard for the first few seconds I got a gap, but realised I had done so alone. Well, no choice but to press on alone then. I came round to the line to see 'three laps to go' and I had a lead of a handful of seconds over the bunch. For about half a lap I dared to think that I might just stay away until the end, even as my breathing got increasingly laboured and the burning in my muscles got worse. Needless to say I got caught at the start of the last lap, but managed to recover enough to hang on and finish with the bunch, which was a first.

The following week saw a bigger turnout still, despite the threat of showers in the air. I resolved this week that riding to and from the circuit was no excuse for skipping the second race, even if it did mean digging out lights to be able to ride home in the dark! The cat 4 race went well, at least when your aim is to get a good workout rather than where you finish at the end. After an anonymous first 15 minutes, the whistle blew as we crossed the line, indicating that the first prime of the night would be won at the end of the next lap. As good a time as any to break away then. Ant, another cyclocross racer who races these crits for training, had the same idea and attacked; I bridged up to him just before the end of the lap, and lunged round him for the line. We both looked at each other - neither of us knew who had crossed the line first. There was no time to discuss it at  this point as we had a gap over the bunch. We worked together smoothly for a couple of laps but were gradually reeled in and caught with about 4 laps to go. Having ticked the 'doomed breakaway' box I resolved to work for the good of the club in the final laps. I took a long, hard turn on the front with a couple of laps to go, then on the final lap tried to lead out Hamish, one of our better sprinters. He got boxed in during the chaotic run to the line but still picked up an 8th place finish. I rolled in with the bunch again.

Two minutes to recover and off we go with the 2/3/4 race. I smashed my previous record and lasted more than three laps before getting dropped! I was far from the only one, and got into a group of half a dozen who continued to work together, with no real hope of catching the pack, but just getting a good workout and delaying getting lapped. A few more laps and the group fell apart; I was dropped and on my own. I stuck it out for as long as I could, trying to squeeze every last ounce of strength out of my legs. At just over half distance I was lapped by the bunch, and unceremoniously dumped straight out the back of the bunch, unable to hold onto them at all. At that point I decided to call it a day - I'd never expected to make it to the end of the race, and I still had a 15 mile ride home to think about.

Two more Wednesday nights of racing in August followed the same sort of pattern; work as hard as possible in the cat 4 race, then wring out every last drop of strength in the 2/3/4, while the race proper goes on way ahead of me. Both of the last two cat 4 races included quite a long time in the break for me. The first week I went solo on the first lap, and stayed away as the early sacrifice for the first ten minutes or so. The following week I was one of a three-man break that stayed away until the end of the race - unfortunately for me, it stayed away as a two man break as the other riders were too strong for me and I got dropped and slunk back to the peloton. In both races I had a few minutes to recover before working for our sprinters at the end of the race, and as a consequence I finished both races pretty much last, my work done and legs spent with half a lap to go.

That's my first road season over and done with then. It's been quite fun, and these recent races have hopefully kept me sharp (and increased my pain threshold) for the cyclocross season.

June race roundup

There's been a lot going on since I last had time to update this, so here's a few races together to get things up to date.

11 June 2014 - Forza Cycles Summer Series, Llandow

Another first, as I finally got round to riding a criterium. Llandow is a small motor racing circuit about 15 miles from Cardiff where criteriums are held more or less every Wednesday evening all summer. On a beautiful summer's day I elected to ride the hour or so there, race, and then ride back. Fortunately there was a tailwind on the way home to help my tired legs!

For the race itself about 40 cat 3s and 4s took the start. I'd had the chance to warm up on the circuit and take note of a couple of tricky bends on the circuit, but I didn't really know what to expect as we set off. The pace was high but manageable (most of the time), with peaks and troughs in speed as riders tried to escape off the front of the bunch, were reeled in, and then everyone relaxes for a moment, before someone else has a go and the speed shoots up again. I made a few half-hearted moves myself, mostly as a consequence of trying to stay near the front of the pack, but also chasing down the odd attack, or in one case, finding that I had inadvertantly accelerated away and (briefly) joined a breakaway.

After 30 minutes of a 45 minute race, the sprints out of corners every lap were beginning to take their toll and I stopped mucking about and sat in the bunch, just aiming to make it to the finish with the main bunch. It was at that point that there was a crash at the tight chicane which I got caught behind, coming almost to a standstill. I've learned enough about road racing to know that it would be a hard chase back to the bunch, so I immediately went full gas and was quickly joined by James, another Ajax rider in the same predicament. After 2 miles of working together it became obvious we couldn't make it back across the gap, and we sat up and pulled off the circuit with a handful of laps to go.

13 June 2014 - Cardiff Ajax Friday Night Time Trial

Another summer evening ride out into the vale, and two Friday nights in a row of blasting down the A48 and back. A little less wind saw me improve to 19 minutes dead along the 7.4 mile course. I will have to keep going back until I get a time in the mid 18s....

17 June 2014 - Pembrey Circuit Series round 3 (cat 4 only and 2/3/4)

A whole six days since my first criterium, I thought I'd give a second one a go. And indeed a third: I was eligible for both races, and having made a long trip down the M4 I thought I may as well get my money's worth and see how long I could hang on in the second race.

About 25 riders lined up for the cat 4 only race. Krzyzstof was there early to watch before racing the 2/3/4, and gave me some of his usual blunt advice - just attack from the off. Well, why not I thought, and without even waiting for the bunch to form up, rode away from everyone as the flag dropped and quickly settled down into my time trial pace. Within a lap and a half I was joined by another rider, then another bridged and the three of us took our turns for several laps before being caught by the bunch. I sat in for a while then, but went along for the ride any time anyone else attacked. Nobody managed to get away from the bunch though. I gave it one last go with a few laps to go, but nobody came with me and I wasn't strong enough to make a solo effort work. On the final lap my positioning was all wrong - I tried to follow a half-hearted attack but only managed to drag the rest of the bunch with me and effectively led out the sprint, rolling in at the back of the bunch.

I had all of five minutes turnaround from the end of one race to the start of the next, with a much larger and stronger field. Predictably, I lasted all of a lap and a half with the main bunch, having burned all my matches in the earlier race. I just could not match the accelerations out of corners, and I don't think I would have even had I been riding on fresh legs. Still, it was all good experience and good training - I just need a little more brains and a little less misplaced enthusiasm.

25 June 2014 - Western Cyclocross League round 7 (Odd Down cycling circuit)

Having flirted with circuit racing, next week's midweek race was more familiar territory - another trip across the Severn Bridge for a evening cyclocross race.

Unlike May's race at Warmley, this was a proper summer cyclocross race under sunny summer skies. Bone-dry conditions like these can become like dusty criteriums, but the organisers had come up with a cracking course to keep things interesting. Odd Down is a purpose-built cycling facility with a mile-long road racing circuit and a BMX track, and yes, you've guessed it, the course took in elements of both, linked by some fast singletrack which included a short but quite technical (for a 'cross race) descent and sharp climb.

The lap was simple really - bury myself on the open grass and tarmac circuit section, rest on the BMX track and singletrack, bury myself on the climb again. It was one of those 'cross races that seemed to settle down relatively quickly - by half distance I was on my own, trying in vain to catch the rider in front who I could see on the more open sections of the course, but mostly just managing my effort and picking off back-markers. If I had to sum up my race performance in a word, it would be 'satisfactory'. Nothing went wrong, I wasn't losing loads of time anywhere on the course, but neither was I particularly strong anywhere. I probably could have started a bit harder - this was partly a product of bad preparation before the start; I'd rolled round but not done a flying lap, and so approached some of the more technical sections with a little trepidation on lap one. I think subconsciously I didn't want to be too far up the field and under too much pressure to begin with.

8 June 2014: Bristol Bikefest (6 hour mixed pairs), Ashton Court

Another race in a similar format to Erlestoke - how many laps of an XC course can you complete in a set time limit, either on your own or as part of a pairs or team relay.

With Angela back to fitness we were racing as a pair as planned, with no last minute changes to solo this time. Things did not quite start as planned though as I overslept and picked Angela up 45 minutes late! We still managed to get to Ashton Court with an hour to spare and managed to get everything done in time to make the start.

I was out first and, along with everyone else, had to complete a short run to my bike before riding up a fireroad climb and across the start line. This format is designed to spread everyone out on the first lap, a necessity at Ashton Court as it features lots of tight singletrack and it's crucial to not get stuck in too much traffic (I have had to stop and queue before on lap one in previous years). With that in mind, I ran fairly hard, collected my bike and then went up the climb at 100% to be as far up as I could into the first singletrack section. I know the course pretty well but I hadn't ridden it for a couple of years, and overnight rain had left it slippery in places so I took my time to being with as I relearned the lines.

I'd agree with Angela that to begin with I would do double laps and she would do singles. This gave me plenty of time to learn the course as I did four out of our first five laps! The overnight moisture disappeared and the course got grippier as the morning turned into afternoon. After two stints of around an hour each, with just half an hour in between to refuel and rehydrate, we switched to doing single laps each, to my relief as I'm not sure I could have kept up those efforts. Things were made more complicated in the last hour by the return of the rain; a couple of ten minute showers were enough to soak the course through again, and although the surface is hard and does not really get muddy, rocky sections were made slippery and treacherous. Angela did the last lap for us and she got the worst of the wet conditions; fortunately we were under no pressure from behind by this point and she made her way safely round to secure us 4th place in our category. Not bad but not quite the podium!

6 June 2014: Ajax Friday night time trial

After a few days off the bike due to travelling with work, what better way to wake my legs up than with a short time trial.

What used to be our club 10 mile course has become a 7.4 mile course since some traffic lights were installed at one of the junctions. It's pretty rolling and mostly uphill out, and downhill on the return leg, but with a short sharp up before the line just to finish you off.

It was a pleasant summer evening and it was good to see over twenty names on the start sheet. I managed a mid-pack time of 19.47, a minute and a half off my best time last year. I sincerely hope this down to the breezy conditions and not my lack of power! The only way to know for sure is to keep coming back and (hopefully) improve my time.

28 May 2014: Western Summer Cyclocross League round 3: Warmley Park, Bristol

First ‘cross race of the year and we’re still only in May. Although more rain in the runup to the race meant this was muddy enough to feel like the ‘cross season proper.

When I’ve raced this series in the past there was barely a couple of dozen riders, so it was good to pull into a packed carpark and line up with what must have been over 50 others. Cyclocross does seem like it has benefited in particular from the cycling boom in the UK, although for a middle of the pack rider like me, it does mean I find myself further down the (bigger) field than I used to five years ago!

The first row was gridded so I got myself a spot on the second row, on the very outside. Unfortunately the guy I was behind got the worst start of anyone on the front row, or possibly even the whole race, and I had no space to get round him so his terrible start became my problem and I slotted in well down the pack. There was a fair amount of climbing per lap for a ‘cross course so I killed myself uphill on the first lap and managed to pick some people off. As we started a descent all this work was undone as the rider in front of me crashed on a fast and slippery (like everywhere) descent. His bike landed directly in my path, and there was nowhere for me to go, nothing to do but scrub off as much speed as possible before I hit it, and brace myself to hit the deck. Somehow, I rode over the rear of the poor guy’s bike – right over the top of his rear mech I reckon – but stayed upright, albeit off course and halfway into a hedge by the time I came to a stop. By the time I has extricated myself, checked the downed rider was OK and set off again, most of the race was long gone.

Find a happy place. Photo by Richard Lewton

I was now racing for nothing but the hell of it, but mixed fortunes continued. I steadily picked a few people off until a lap with terrible stitch pegged me back, and when that cleared the bike started playing up, with ominous-sounding and increasingly frequent chainsuck. It took me a while to work out that it was chainsuck, but then the solution was obvious – ride everything in big ring, which meant some grinding up the slippery climbs but at least I was able to keep moving. As corners cut up and got slippier I also managed to have a couple of minor offs by myself to add to the earlier travails.

I’ve no idea where I placed in the end (if anyone knows where the results of this series are published, I’d love to know!). Overall it was a stark and fun reminder of the muddy, chaotic hell that makes a good cyclocross race.

24 May 2014: Erlestoke 12 (6 hour solo category)

First race since the end of March, but with a slight change to the intended plan. I was supposed to be racing in the 6 hour race as part of a mixed pair with Angela. However, she managed to crack a rib in a crash the weekend before. She maintained to me that she would be fine until the afternoon before the race, when I prepping bikes and packing kit, I got the phone call I’d half expected saying she wasn’t going to be fit to race. So the obvious option was for me to switch to the solo category – not that big a deal as I’ve done plenty of long solo races in the past, albeit normally with more than 24 hours notice.

Angela still wanted to come along and pit for me, which turned out to be a big help as the weather was pretty sketchy. On the two-hour drive over to the venue, it rained more or less continuously. Although it didn’t rain during the race, the damage to the course was already done, and at best it was wet and slippery, and at worst it was the sort of thick mud that sticks to everything and clogs up your bike. Not knowing the course I’d had to rely on the internet as a source of information regarding conditions – various forum posters ensured me it never got that muddy, even in the wet. Based on this I’d started the race on all-rounder tyres; if I’d known what conditions were going to be like I would have opted for full mud tyres. Oh well, don’t believe everything you read on the internet.

Despite the mud it was a good course with plenty of fun singletrack – just not the bits where I had no choice but to push a mud-clogged bike up unrideable climbs. The first two 7 mile laps took me over an hour each, but conditions slowly got a bit better as the weather stayed dry and the sun occasionally made an appearance. After three laps I switched to the 29er, something that with hindsight I probably should have done earlier rather than spend three hours hauling round a bike with bad clearances and several kilos of mud stuck to it. On a fresh bike in drying conditions, I rode more of the course and went faster for the last two laps. I even managed to catch and overtake another soloist, who I’d been to-ing and fro-ing with all afternoon, in the last few 100 metres. I managed to come home 13th out of 50 or so starter overall.
An unplanned marathon rather than a series of sprints then, but good training nonetheless, and all the riding sideways in mud is good skills practice for ‘cross!

5th April 2014: Buckingham Blinder 400km audax

OK, lets be clear about something - this was definitely not a race. But I'm including it here as it's a big old event for me, and marks a bit of a turning point in my year where I slow down again.

This had been in the calendar for ages, long before I signed up to any of this road racing malarkey. I've done several 300km+ rides with Phil and Amit, long-time friends and recent audax disciples, but resisted the urge to join them on any of the longer, truly certifiable distances. But this 400km audax started 2km from my house, they were both coming to do it anyway, it looked pretty flat and fast....I was out of excuses basically.

It wouldn't be audax without a very early start, and sure enough the alarm went off at 4.45am. Phil and Amit had been joined by Si and John, two friends of Amit's, and they had all stayed the night in my two bedroom house. Cue a rather chaotic hour as five cyclists try to prepare and eat breakfast, dress, and find the 101 things they need to take with them on a long ride. We made it to Coryton with seconds to spare; fortunately Robyn the audax organiser is as chilled out as they come and not the sort of guy to get uppity at a few latecomers. We signed on and as we rolled out we were joined by another latecomer, Eric, a familiar face from Cardiff Ajax. The next couple of hours took in well-trodden roads for me all the way to Chepstow and over the old Severn Crossing, and six of us riding together and a tailwind made light work of it. As we crossed into England, Eric accelerated into the distance, never to be seen again and would finish several hours ahead of us.

We stopped around the 100km mark in Malmesbury for a spot of coffee and beans on toast. The next 100km was indeed flat and fast but on mostly quiet roads, and we made it to the 200km turning point at a cafe just outside Buckingham just after 3pm. Unfortunately it turned out that just after 3 was a big deal, as the cafe had closed their kitchen at 3 on the dot! We made do with more coffee and cake, and retraced our steps to Bicester in the hope of an early evening meal. A couple of us fancied fish and chips so we sought out the chippy. Well, all I can say is if I lived in Bicester I wouldn't eat fish and chips much - we all universally declared it the worst fish and chips we'd experienced. I forced most of it down, needing the calories, and we went on our way with sun due to set in a couple of hours and 100+ miles still to go....

We pressed on to Malmesbury, now doing turns into what turned out to be a mercifully light headwind. Once the sun went down things got a bit surreal. I had no visible way of keeping track of time, and no idea how quickly we were going, or how many miles we'd done, unless I hit the backlight on my computer. Phil and Amit, the old stagers when it came to riding into and through the night, got us chatting and playing silly word games to pass the time. It did a good job of taking my mind off the yawning and fuzzy tiredness that was starting to kick in. After Malmesbury I knew there would come a point where I'd be back on roads I that recognised, and not long after that see the Severn Bridge. Cross that and it's only 50km home, and ANYONE can ride 50km....

That last 50km flew by as we were back on fast roads and I was able to tick off landmarks that I knew. Sadly things were rudely interrupted in Newport as we caught the aftermath of a car crash that had narrowly missed some other riders on the audax. They were fortunately OK, save for some damaged bikes and looking a bit shocked. The police and bystanders must have been baffled by the appearance of 20 cyclists in Newport at 2am on a Saturday night.

From Newport I could practically touch home, and a good job as it was now gone 3am. Just that last job of diverting up to the finish before heading home to bed. By the time we'd put the hard-working bikes to bed in the garage, had some food and drink I realised 4.45am had come round again and I'd been awake for  24 hours. The ride itself had taken 21 1/2 hours door to door.

Needless to say after that I'll be taking it easy for a bit, in fact that is the plan for most of April as I have another 300km+ ride at the end of the month.

30th March: Bynea Early Season Road Race, round 1

This didn't go well.

I had that increasingly rare thing, a free Sunday, with Claire away on a hen do. I had a weekend of big mileage planned, until the week before when Krzystof talked me into entering this. To be fair I didn't take a lot of convincing - I'd quite enjoyed my first road race and this looked interesting. It was a chance to revisit the roads of Carmarthenshire which is used to ride in my days living in Swansea, on a tough little hilly circuit that should suit the both of us. Turned out it didn't suit me too well at all.

We arrived nice and early on a perfect spring race day under blue skies, with time for two warm up/ reconnaisance laps of the 7 mile circuit. It was an absolute roller coaster; no big climbs but lots of short, sharp efforts, and hardly a section of flat road the whole way round. We rolled down to the start, only to be told there was a ten minute delay while some cows crossed the road! Fortunately there was no evidence of them crapping on the road when the race got under way, although a bit of cowshit was going to be the least of my problems.

All the waiting around meant starting with completely cold muscles and lungs. The same problem for everyone of course, but something I've found I really struggle with. Sure enough within the first few hundred (draggy uphill) metres of the race, that familiar burning feeling arose in my lungs, along with the taste of blood. I had also started right near the back, which even this road race novice knows is a bad place to be: it's the same as heavy traffic on the motorway, with any minor change in pace up the front resulting in a concertina effect that translates into heavy braking and sprinting up to speed again for those at the back. Combined with the relentlessly up and down nature of the course this meant I spent the first three quarters of lap one desperately hanging on to the back of the pack, or worse, teaming up with other stragglers to bridge back on.

Hanging out at the back, keeping the following car company. Photo by Wayne Reneke

For the final third of the lap the road went a bit more relentlessly uphill - this suited me more as the pace was fractionally lower and, more importantly, a lot more consistent. Just as I was settling down and trying to move up the pack a little - BANG. A crash right in the middle of the bunch took a dozen or so guys down. I dropped to walking pace to weave round the chaos, and watched the rest of the bunch who had avoided the crash accelerate up the road. I looked behind me, thinking there would be enough of us to get organised and ride serenely back across the gap. There wasn't; there was a handful of guys all frantically sprinting to get back in the race. I spent the next lap watching the gap to the bunch get bigger and bigger, to the point where I admitted defeat and sat up.

I rolled round for another lap (the sun was out, after all) and then pulled in with three laps still to race and lots of time to reflect on what had gone wrong. I put it down to one part not enough strength in the legs, one part poor racecraft.

16th March 2014: Betty Pharoah Memorial Road Race (cat 3/4)

This was a journey into the unknown. My first competitive bunch race of any kind on tarmac. I've done my share of hill climbs and time trials in the past, but I had no idea what to expect of hammering round in a bunch. So, straight in at the deep end with a 50 mile race on a fairly hilly course - although a better description would be 'rolling' by South Wales standards.

Perfect weather conditions and 15 other Cardiff Ajax team mates starting the race helped to keep spirits high at the start. A neutralised roll through Cowbridge was followed by one of two main climbs on the three-lap, 15 mile course as soon as the flag dropped and the race began for real. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself moving up on the climb, and surprised but slightly panicked to find myself in a group attacking off the front within the first few miles! We didn't get away and I curbed my enthusiasm, reminding myself the aim was just to stay with, and finish with, the bunch. The second climb of the lap was a reminder of this as I found myself drifting inexorably backwards, unable to get on anyone's wheel. I recovered from that and after being towed along at 30mph on rolling roads it was time to start lap 2.



Having found my level and realised I wasn't going to get blown out the back of the bunch immediately, but under no aspirations that I was going to figure in the finish, I tried to move up and make myself useful to my team mates who did have such aspirations. Up the second climb of the lap I found myself near the head of the bunch with the remnants of a break being reeled in - and Kryzsztof, one of our best hopes for the race, doing the work to bring them back. Well I couldn't have him wearing himself out, so it was time to see if I could handle a turn on the front. I dragged the break back and carried on for as long as I could, hoping to do some damage at the back of the bunch and prevent any stragglers on the climb getting straight back on - with the ever-enthusiastic Kryzsztof urging me to go faster! When I peeled off I went back through the pack like a bowling ball as I tried to recover, going from 1st to 60th in as many seconds.

I never got near the front again, learning the valuable lesson that position is everything in a big bunch and moving up is far from easy, even if cyclocross has given you sharp elbows and a willingness to ride through gaps that are a bike plus 6 inches wide. Besides, by the final climb I was starting to run out of steam, and gave up any hopes of being any use to the team (little did I know that by this point Kryzsztof had made it into what would prove to be a successful two man break and earn him second place). As we hit the last kilometre of uphill drag to the finish and everyone geared up for a sprint, I finally went out the back of the bunch and finished about 30 seconds behind. But since I'd come into the race thinking that might happen in the first kilometre, I went home happy enough.

I enjoyed myself a lot and went home relieved to have held my own, but reassured that I haven't missed my true calling in not giving road racing a go until now. Next on the list: a criterium....

23rd February 2014: Red Kite Winter XC Series, Coed Trallwm

Today was a toss-up between a (first ever, for me) criterium or another visit to Coed Trallwm. Well, once a mountain biker always a mountain biker...

Angela from Ajax, who is just starting out racing XC, was also racing so we headed up together and some company on the drive into mid Wales was good. Less good was the rain that started falling a few minutes before we got out of the car and continued non-stop until we pulled back out of the car park several hours later. Combined with a fairly strong wind this guaranteed a 'challenging' day. First challenge - unpack bikes and change into riding kit without getting cold and soaked. After sign on and a bit of lingering in the warm of the cafe there was just time for 30 minutes of warm up and a quick change into dry gloves (to prolong the inevitable) and deliberate over what to race in. With the rain showing no sign of letting up I kept my warmest base layer on under a jersey and stuck a lightweight rain jacket on top of that. Time to head to the line.

Having been here only a few weeks ago I had some idea what to expect, and so unlike last time hadn't ventured far in practice/warm up. Indeed the sprint up the first mile-long fireroad climb was all too familiar, albeit with a fairly strong headwind, leading to the slightly bizarre sight of the first dozen of us lined out in single file, fighting for wheels and shelter from the wind as if this was a road race. This peloton gradually fell apart and I crested the climb in fifth, with a bit of a gap behind. This evaporated completely in the next kilometre through a very grassy boggy section. Not my forte at the best of times, and it was critical to choose the right line. I didn't, and lost all of the advantage I'd eked out to a group behind, and then some.

The rest of the lap was spent dipping out in and out of stuff I knew from last time, in between sections I didn't. A couple of the downhills were new: one was twisty, fast and fun, the second was more technical and seemed to be surfaced with some magic combination of mud and pine needles that offered no grip at all.

Throwing shapes or getting out of shape....? Photo by CAC Photography

By a lap and a half things had settled down and I found myself alone - nobody in front of me to chase, no visible threat from behind, so now my biggest rival was the weather. It still poured with rain, and this combined with a strong wind on some of the more exposed sections. One switchback descent begun by pedalling into a strong headwind downhill, rain stinging the eyes, before turning through near 180 degrees halfway down and suddenly accelerating effortlessly to 30mph as the headwind became a tailwind.

I crossed the line pretty much soaked to the skin and immediately headed off to get warm and dry. Sitting in the cafe by its very welcoming stove the results were announced and I was pleasantly surprised to find I'd managed third overall in sport. Sixth overall again, same as the last round. So a couple of XC races under my belt before spring has sprung, and hopefully conditions can only get better for the next six months!

12th January 2014: Red Kite XC Winter Series, Coed Trallwm

First race of the year, 12 days in.

I only made the decision on Friday to race on Sunday. I'd found out about this winter XC series and it looked doubtful I could make any of the later rounds, so decided to head up to this one. As of Friday, the racier of the two mountain bikes sported one working brake. Some fettling on Saturday afternoon put that right, so there was no excuse not to get back into the familiar routine of packing the car up the night before, ready for an early start and a 90 minute drive on Sunday morning.

About that drive...just getting there felt like a victory. Defying the forecast, the weather fell below zero the night before. Much grumbling and removing ice from the inside of the car windows in the dark, followed by an exciting drive across some ungritted roads above Sennybridge, tiptoing over the ice.

Still, arrived in good time, got signed on and managed half a practice lap and warm up before heading to the start with about 40 others.

It was a good course with something for everyone, or something for every XC racer anyway. Two major climbs per lap followed by technical descents on mostly surfaced all-weather sections with the odd cut-in section. This being January in mid Wales, the cut in sections were muddy and required, for me at least, mostly pushing uphill and tripoding down.

White jersey. For a January XC race. Hmm. Photo by CAC photgraphy

A long fireroad climb began the lap and sorted the field out into a rough pecking order. I came over the top in 4th place, with the top three still in sight but with no aspirations of catching them up - of more of a concern were the half dozen riders hot on my heels. Three of them passed me on the descent; I took one back on the next long climb and yo-yoed with the other two for the next couple of laps, never quite doing enough to get my nose in front of them. Crossing the line after three laps I found the race was over when I had been expecting to go round again! I was a mixture of relief and annoyance at this - I was flagging on the third lap and pouring gels into myself to try and recover for a fourth lap. But if I'd known that was the final lap I could have properly emptied the tank and maybe made up the gap to the guy in front who I still had sight of on the more open sections. Still, 6th place in my first XC race in 18 months didn't seem so bad.

Prologue: Welsh Cyclocross League round 10, Llandaff Fields, 15th December 2013

2013 was the year of no racing. That's a weird way to start a post about a race in 2013. Let me explain.

I've never really raced my bikes much. The occasional cross country or longer mountain bike race, hill climb or time trial coupled with a handful of cyclocross races every season. Every year I've told myself I'll take 'cross a bit more seriously, train properly for it, and then never bothered. So, in 2013, I used the need to save a bit of cash as an excuse to take a year away from racing in general and 'cross specifically. Find out whether I don't miss it one bit, or if a year away makes me want to come back and throw myself in headlong.

Definitely the second one.

It had been a good year and I'd stayed fit as a fiddle; probably the fittest I'd ever been. I'd banged the cowbell and drank a beer or two at a few mountain bike races and not for a moment wanted to be the other side of the tape. But as soon as 'cross season got under way, I was making plans for 2014. I'll get a new 'cross bike, I told myself, maybe go do the Three Peaks again. Then race properly in the Autumn. Take it a bit more seriously. No, really this time.

So much for no racing in 2013 then, as I lined up for a second 'cross race of the year. The first loophole was the last race of the Western League in early January (2012-13 season, I told myself). I allowed myself the final round of the Welsh League to assess what my form was like; whether a summer and autumn of chaingangs and chasing like-minded masochists from Cardiff Ajax up hills had improved my engine. And to remind myself of the pure sweet hell I had been away from for 11 months.

And pure sweet hell it was. Early morning rain followed by dryer weather ensured a course that was almost exclusively heavy, sticky mud. Three forced dismounts per lap, plus two sections which where there was not much to choose in time between riding and running.

No racing all season = no gridding, so shoved myself in as first of the rest in about 40th place and sprinted hard from the gun. Arguably too hard, as I then spent 3 laps drifting slowly but surely backwards as my legs tried to remember how to cope with the constant onslaught of full-gas sprints, climbing off, running with the bike, and climbing back on again. The course was becoming ever more chewed and four dismounts per lap became five as I cocked up another tricky section and elected in my adrenalin-addled brain that it was quicker to run, trying to ignore protests from legs not accustomed to any running whatsoever, never mind running hard through ankle-deep mud carrying a bike.

Holding off a man with tinsel in his helmet. About as good as it got. Photo by Rob Warren

The heavy mud was taking it's toll on my bike too - lap 4 began with alarming noises from the rear mech and the tell-tale slack-then-tight feedback from the chain as mud clogged the jockey wheels and threatened to pull the rear mech off the next time I so much as looked at it. I stopped to clear some mud, made no difference. Stopped again for another go/ After stopping for the third time in 500 metres and wondering whether there was anything I could do to fix the problem, or it was worth continuing until the almost inevitable writing off of my rear mech and retirement, two riders in fancy dress overtook me. Time to throw in the towel then.

So, a humbling experience and some lessons learned. Despite some promising dismount/remount practice in the couple of weeks beforehand, my technique getting off, carrying and getting back on the bike all largely went to pot once my legs were full of lactate and my lungs on fire. I may be fit but I'm not race fit, having done very little to get myself used to riding to riding on the limit for 50 minutes. And I'm still terrible at getting round slippery tight turns.

Still, on to 2014, and as much racing across as many different categories as I can manage.