Last night I rode our club 25 mile time trial race. Not only was it the furthest I had raced, it was also the first time I’d pinned a number on my jersey this year so I had no idea what to expect. The course is 3 laps of Chew Valley Lake, a single lap being the usual weekly time trial distance. My personal best over a single lap was an average speed of 22.5mph, however that was last year and after lots of training. My goal for last night was to average over 20mph, known as “evens” in time-trialling.
I got down to the lake early and chose number 2. Number 1 seemed a bit too symbolic and too much of a scalp for all the following faster riders to enjoy taking. I then headed off to warm up after a bit of a chat with a few other riders, including PJ who the previous week had been racing Bradley Wiggins and several other professional riders in the National Time Trial Championships and finishing 28th. A very impressive result for a club rider.
We set off at one minute intervals and I caught Number 1 within the first 5 minutes. Rather than seeing this as something positive it just made me think I’d set off too fast. For the next few minutes I kept asking myself whether I could maintain the pace for an hour. “I don’t know … I don’t know … I don’t know” was like a worrying mantra going round in my head, until I remembered reading somewhere that this is actually the correct answer when time-trialling. If you answer “yes” you’re going too slow and if you answer “no” you’ve overcooked it! I pushed on.
Not only is the course undulating but it was a breezy night which manifested itself in a slight headwind along the uphill back straight which was quite energy sapping. I completed the first lap at an average speed of 21.5mph which I was pleased with. My tactics (or lack of) were to push it hard on lap one, try and maintain the pace on lap two and then hammer it home on the final lap. Basically I had no tactics.
On the half-hour mark I was overtaken by Number 3. It was a strange feeling but I was actually glad to be overtaken purely because it was nice to feel the camaraderie of another rider. For half an hour I’d been suffering alone. Plus he was wearing a pointy helmet, had a disc wheel and TT bars so I consoled myself by saying it was probably just his equipment which made him faster than me. I do own some clip-on TT bars and have used them before but they gave me terrible neck ache from the strained position so I didn’t contemplate attaching them for a one hour race.
On 40 minutes I was overtaken a second time. This time by Number 8 who was going super fast. By the end of my second lap my average speed was down slightly to 21mph which was good. I knew I had +20mph in the bag and pushed on. But by the end of the difficult back straight my average was down to 20.6mph which gave me a new determination to try and finish on 21mph. With a couple of downhill stretches I felt the wind in my sails and gave it everything I had. On 23 miles I was overtaken by PJ. I hadn’t known what race number he’d taken but always knew he was somewhere behind me tearing up the tarmac and closing the gap. Number 14. He had started 12 minutes after me so was definitely on for a sub-hour time for the course which requires an average faster than 25mph.
By the final straight my average was up to 20.9mph and I gave it everything I had. I was riding at 25mph and with the finish line in sight had one eye on my average speed waiting for it to change. It did. 21mph average and a time of 1 hour 11 minutes.
I felt trashed and after hanging around at the finish for a while I headed home. Cold sweats, pain in the butt like I’d been kicked repeatedly and an inability to ride faster than 15mph without feeling like I was about to collapse. At one point I even brushed against a patch of stinging nettles on the side of a country lane, my brain working too slowly to adjust my riding line. The satisfying feeling of giving it everything you have.