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.
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