From the front, the side, anywhere but behind.

It seems that in Alsace, or any other part of France we have raced in so far, that you are always riding into a wind. Whether it be a gusty headwind or relentless cross-wind, there’s always one there nagging away at your energy supply making you work that bit harder than you actually want to. It’s this wind that seems to have been the deciding factor in most of my races (and results) so far, and last weekend was no different. The weather started off pretty bad again early on in the week after we had raced in the snow on Monday, so we took Tuesday off as all our kit and shoes were still wet. We got 2 rides of three hours or more in on Wednesday and Thursday, only occasionally getting rained on, while doing some more high quality efforts (getting my heart rate to at least 100 bpm). Then on Friday, to our amazement, the sun came out and everything got a little warmer and slightly more pleasant. It managed to stay like this through Friday also (while still being windy), but the forecast was for rain in Dijon the next day so we imagined it would be back to the old grind.

On the Saturday evening my parents arrived for a three day stay over their Easter holiday, so I was happy to see them (and even happier to see all the food they had brought, Baked Beans anyone?). But as they arrived late on Saturday and we had an early start and a long drive to the race on Sunday, they decided to give watching me a miss. It turned out to be a good decision. I can now touch my toes after each stretching bout so I’m pretty pleased about that, although ask me to do it any other time and I’ll struggle to touch my knees. I’ve also been reading a book by William Fotheringham called ‘Roule Britannia’, it details the history of British riders in the Tour de France and how they came to get there. What was very interesting was finding out about all the other brits that have raced for the clubs I am now racing against back in the day. I never knew Malcolm Elliot rode for UV Aube, as did Vin Denson and Alan Ramsbottom, I like my history.

With the weather looking up, but the forecast looking down, Sunday arrived and it was time for Troyes-Dijon. A 168km amateur classic featuring open roads with rolling to steep hills towards the end. The drive to our starting point was long once again, three and a half hours of passing the time by looking at how many more kilometres it was to the next junction on the sat nav. Did I mention our pasta in Tupperware? Lovely stuff. When we arrived the weather was looking pretty good, so I was quite relaxed getting ready and warming the legs up, trying to put out of my mind that I now had 168km to ride if I wanted to finish my first race in 3 weeks. At the start fictive I managed to get myself in a prime position and amazingly kept it until the real start. We had been told that after 7-10 km of headwind, the road turned and it would come across us... for the rest of the race.... superb. Because of this I held a good position for the first 20km, probably the best I’ve held it out of any of the races so far. I even had a chance effort off the front, trying to bridge across to a break that had formed an echelon up the road. Unfortunately once I had made it across to them, so had everybody else. At about 35-40km the hammer started to go down. We had come into an open and slightly meandering stretch of road where SCO Dijon, the team with the two main favourites, had obviously been instructed to split it up. The wind forced everyone into the left hand gutter with only one echelon at the front which to me seemed ridiculous. I began to suffer as did my position and I slowly slipped back to mid peloton. A crash that I had to swerve to avoid interrupted the rhythm and I was already dangerously near the red. Riders were blowing up all over the place (proverbially of course (although I’d love to see it literally)) and on a particularly hard stretch of road, I followed.

My legs just didn’t have the power to follow in the strong continuous side wind and I had to slip back into a chasing group. Some might say that this is a sign that you aren’t very good, and those people would be right. But I know I have been able to stay with similar paces before in races even if these are particularly hard, so whether it is just my form or I have been doing too much training or not the right sort, I don’t know. After a while our chase group managed to latch onto to the back of the peloton and a choice few stayed there as the riders at the front once again went full gas. At this point I had already slipped off once and after the chase my legs were in no apparent mood to get any stronger, so again I was in the chase group. The name chase would stick for the rest of the race as the front group pulled away with most of my team mates in. A bunch of about 30 of us got together and started riding along at a pace we all seemed to feel more comfortable with and occasionally some of us would work and we’d get a bit faster, although it never lasted long. Some might call it the grupetto or laughing group...I prefer chase group. Then we hit the first climb of the race, a short steep one but nothing spectacular. Luckily my chain came off halfway up as I moved into the little ring, so I reversed to the back of the group while frantically spinning trying to get the chain to latch onto the big ring. Once I had managed this I managed to get to the top at the back of the group and we hit a plateau... and the wind hit us. An outrageous wind that stopped everyone in their tracks and made small gaps seem like minutes. Here our bunch split a little and I was nicely placed to feel the effects. Thankfully it came back together going down the other side and I moved right to the front promising myself not to go to the back again.

It was about this time that we caught a few riders from in front, including Tom. He had been caught up a little in the earlier crash and had chased hard to get back on, just about finding his way into a small group between us and the leaders. After expending enough energy in the chase, the wind that followed the first hill was enough to break the elastic and he rode the rest of the race with me. After that it settled down and we rode steadily to the finishing circuit which was horribly hilly and windy (quelle surprise). We were meant to complete 1 and ¾ laps of this 25km loop before carrying on to the finish, but we turned left the first time round to make sure we didn’t finish in the dark, much to the surprise of the gendarmes and marshals. Here we rode into Dijon having done 140km of the course, promptly to find that the car with all our bags in was still following the race. Probably a just punishment for my poor showing.

Needless to say, I was pretty unhappy, I wanted to finish this race pretty desperately and the 40 minutes after the race were spent moping in my sorrows. But after a while I perked up in the realisation that things can only get better...well, they can’t get much worse. I spent the next two days with my family visiting Strasbourg and the German city of Baden-Baden, both very nice places and well worth a visit. We also had a nice meal at a nearby restaurant that we thought we might go back to when one of us got out first race win... I’ll miss that restaurant.

Next weekend I have two races with one being very local, as neither are elite nationals, I am hoping to get my first finish for a few weeks if not a little more (but best start small eh?). If I don’t finish I may take up golf or some similar well paid past time.

Until the next adventure

αντίο

PS. Sorry for the lack of good photos/videos this week, I either wasn't in the mood or didn't have a camera.