A first...and not the last..

Bzz..bzzz...I awoke to a text message from a friend asking if I was going to be racing in the rain. It was freezing that morning, and I was down with a slight cold from a couple of flu bugs flying round the office floor. Riding 62ks in the wet wasn't exactly a nice thought. I wipe the mist off my bedroom window and watched the drizzling rain wet the roads outside. It really wasn't a warming sight - but this is what winter racing is about - and it's only the start of the season! My reply: Yes I'm racing. It's Melbourne - never know with this rain - it could end up ok out there.

The drive out to Lancefield was filled with bouts of rain, and the occasional burst of sunshine. "Look at the trees swaying in that wind - it must be at least 50kmh!" I exclaimed. My coach just started laughing in the car - rain, strong winds - well, at least it's not hailing!

The cold was numbing - and I took longer than ever to get ready. I had trouble deciding what to wear - I had brought pretty much my whole cycling wardrobe along - long knicks, short knicks, short gloves, long gloves, undershirts, thermal shirts etc etc.. I knew I usually warmed up pretty quickly and didn't want to overdress either. I ended up doing my warm up laps with my ski jacket on!

The field was smaller than expected that day as a few people had pulled out due to the rain. Well, it didn't end up raining at all - and we even had the sun out - though 6deg was surely cold! I was shivering at the start line - and was surely glad when they finally let us off.

"A quick chat with team-mate Von before the race" (Photo by Marisa Farrell)

The first km was a small, steady climb - and that was enough to get us nice and warm. An early one-man attack soon got the peloton working together rolling turns. A strong right cross-wind saw us rolling from left to right - a first for me I must say. It did feel really weird to kick off, but a couple of pulls later I soon got the hang of it. As we drew nearer to the solo-er, I threw in a couple of hard pedals pulling the peloton to bridge the gap. We sat on his wheel up the next climb, but soon enough this guy was off on another break again.

50m..100m..200m........400m....I saw this white dot slowly drifting further and further away. Over the top of the climbs he would disappear, and then reappear again. I saw a big downhill section up ahead - I knew this was my chance. I cranked down into my lowest gear, and chased. All I wanted was that wheel out in front. I wasn't sure how many people I was pulling along, but knew I had managed to split the peloton up. The next mini climb I attacked again - and soon it was just 2 of us chasing him down.

I finally caught his wheel, and by this time we were in a 3 man break. I did a quick look back and saw no one else behind. I knew the peloton would be trying to chase us - and after taking a few steady breaths, I quickly signalled for him to work together to roll turns. The cross-wind was really strong out the back of the course, and each time I was out pulling a turn, I could barely hold my bike in a straight line. The 3rd man was just sucking on our wheels, and pushing the pace a little higher, we soon dropped him.

The next 10 or so k's went through like a blur - we were working really hard to keep the break - I was breathing really hard, I was trying my best to keep my bike upright with the cross-wind, I had a massive stitch in my stomach - I was just hurting all over. But I had one thing in my mind - this guy was strong, and I didn't want to get dropped!! And so I hung on and pulled turns as best as I could. As we turned into a corner at the 25k mark or so - we both sat up, looked back, and knew we had our game sorted. There was no one in sight.

As we continued rolling turns, our focus soon shifted to chasing down the grade in front of us. They had started more than 5 minutes in front of us - but going into the 2nd lap of the course, we soon caught up and overtook the few single strays at the back of the next grade. It felt like a rat race - and the feeling of passing each rider was really good. We continued working together - and soon learned each others strengths, using them to our advantage. In times like this , your opponent becomes your team-mate - each thinking through ways to beat each other at the line, but yet, never dropping the other one as a 2-man break is always stronger than 1 with who knows how many in the peloton are working together to chase us down.

With about 7 or so ks to go, we finally managed to catch up with the 2nd bunch of 6 riders in the next grade up. It was certainly a welcoming sight to see a bunch of riders together. I knew my opponent was a stronger rider than me, and the sprint finish was up a hill. I tried to get my brains cracking on endless possible ways to beat him.

Going into the final climb, I got out of the saddle and attacked. I reved as hard as could, passed the bunch we had caught and sprinted for the finish. I crossed the line - and it took a whole minute for it to sink in - I had won this race!! As the warm blood rushed through my body, every bit of pain encoutered along the way just washed away. The training, the desire, the believe - all of it compressed into the second at the finish line, and the world seemed to come to halt momentarily. The sweet feeling of winning.... the first of the firsts just brings new confidence, new desires, new goals....the first, and definitely not the last.

"A huge smile with my first win" (Photo by Von Micich)