When I say it’s not all cherry toppings and golden glory, I mean it goes all the way down to dog poo.
I was ready to pin on a number for this race, with my team and give it absolutely everything I had. We’d had a team chat about tactics and looked at the circuit together… it was a bit of me.
I’d gone out for an easy spin the day before the race and managed to pick up a puncture, always annoying but I had tubeless and it sealed nicely, so we thought nothing more of it.
Race day arrived, I had an epic journey up with a fellow team-mate, we chatted away and got to know each other better and it was just a fabulous experience and put me at ease for the day – she is so lovely. I didn’t think to take spare wheels/bike because there was no convoy or neutral service, just like at Chitterne, so it didn’t even cross my mind (let me tell you, I am a mug).
We drove the circuit when we arrived, checking out lines and dodgy bits of road whilst I absorbed any information given to me. After a brief warm up we had a chat with the comms about safety and taking care of one another, before a 3mile neutral up to the circuit. The neutral was relatively fast, which took me by surprise as Chitterne’s was so steady! Almost caught me off guard!
Sadly… in the neutral I found myself bouncing on my bike and after having a teamie check from behind, it turned out I’d punctured. I had no idea what I should do… I thought tubeless just sealed?! Evidently not in my case.
Next thing I know, the flag has gone down and we’re off, so I just roll with it! My thought process being ‘how far can I get on a rim?’
I had about 10psi in my rear tyre, and I was sliding all over the place through the corners, I tried to stick near the back of the lead group, so I didn’t scare/hurt anyone. It was a real slog… 40kph on a pretty much flat tyre was hard work, there’s no doubt about that. I yelled to my team manager I needed a wheel or air, as we flew past like a flock of birds in a hurry for dinner! After the second attempt to get his attention, I got myself to the front and yelled as we rode passed allowing us to make a plan, I’d stop on the next lap for a solution.
Deep down I think I knew it was game over, I had tubeless tyres and whatever it was didn’t seal? So surely if I put more air in, it’s not going to seal again. But I was darned if I wasn’t going to give it a bloody shot!
Although, I took this as my opportunity to ride on the front and do some turns, allowing the team to rest a bit… after all, I didn’t know how much further I’d get!
I rode up front and let my teamies know I was going to try and get off the front, which would hopefully decrease my chase back on. Unfortunately, some of the other riders clocked on and attacked exactly where I wanted to get a gap, I followed the attack and pulled out near the finish line. It took what felt like a lifetime to get air into my tyre, but we did and off I went on my chase!
It was the most insane thing, I buckled down into my aero tuck and gave it absolutely everything, picking up a few stragglers on the way thinking I could use them for a quick recovery turn at some stage. I flew around one of the corners which had gravel on it, sliding out and almost bunny hopping back upright (perks of being small? I’m not sure but I’ll take it), that’s when I knew something wasn’t right so I did the sensible thing… and continued my chase.
I could see the cars turning left up ahead… about 25-30s in front and I worked out I had about 30 minutes before I needed to have caught them, to at least be some use to the team.
I came around the next corner and slid again, by this time I had no air in my tyre and I was rolling on my rim again, hearing the crunching of road on my rim was painstakingly gutting, and I knew it was time to hang up my cleats. Gutted was an understatement. It was so flat I walked the next…. mile or so back to the finish line, I figured a new pair of shoes would be cheaper than a new set of rims.
Did I curse? Hell, yes, I did, I spent that whole walk cursing and wanting to cry, envisioning myself throwing my bike into the hedge. I was fuming… what’s the point in racing if my equipment is failing me?! I went tubeless to avoid this.
After some time, Stephen came to find me in one of the team cars… he knew I’d punctured again because I never re-appeared and I can’t tell you how much I needed that hug and happy face, I was so upset. I was ready to give the race everything and then I was giving my chase everything and all for nothing.
I did however get to watch the race unfold, with an amazing teamie coming second and the rest of the fabulous ladies rolling in with the bunch, having helped keep each other safe and up-front.
Turns out, I’d unseated the tyre whilst whizzing round for the first five or so laps on 10psi. was it related to the puncture I’d had the day before? We’ll never know, but we can make assumptions.
Should I have brought spare wheels… yes, should I have just changed my wheels? Definitely. But I’m new to all this cycling malarky, let alone racing and it’s not all black and white. Sadly, the advice I sought didn’t seem to be the right kind.
It’s really not all icing on cakes and frothy milk in cups. The truth of it is, you can train all the hours under the sun, but there are so many other factors that come into play and can ruin your day. It can be a bit like Russian Roulette.
I’ll take many lessons away from this storm and I’ll be sad for a few days, while I dwell on what I could have done differently, but I’ll get over it eventually and enter some more races. But first, I need to be salty. Catch you at some, hopefully less salty races.
Ride bikes, eat cake, be happy :)
You champ