Belmont and Jennycliff

Seven thirty a.m. at Cullompton services. Why on earth is Mcdonalds that busy? Mainly it's a mix of people at the tail end of a long night out (we've all been there) and workmen getting their breakfast mcmuffin. Josh Coyne was kind enough to offer me a lift up to Bristol with his coach, Nigel, both of which made fine company for the journey, which was passed by talking about watts, wind and weight, the equivalent of cycling small talk.

In the hour before the race, I experienced a mental clarity that made the whole event especially enjoyable. Headphones on, familiar warm up routine, getting in the zone. I like to spin my legs at a high cadence (100 rpm) during the intense parts of my warm up, so I choose songs that have a tempo of around 100 bpm, this way I just pedal to the beat. 'Someday' by The Strokes did the job perfectly. Considering I didn't know the climb well, I was happy with my ride. Two minutes and forty six seconds was my time up Belmont and I knew this was nine seconds quicker than the course record, but was it enough for the win? No. Sam Lindsay had gone one second faster. Hey ho, I thought, I just need to win tomorrow.

I'll keep it brief about Sunday. The weather was grim. The hill was too short for my liking. I had bad legs. I didn't win. Not one to write home about, I did however come second, but couldn't get near the time of Josh, who made mince meat of the Jennycliff course, taking four seconds off the course record. He was simply the best rider on the day. People often ask me 'are you a better climber than so and so?' and expect a one word answer. The reality is, at a high level, there are so many small variables that mean you really never know. For example, I was ten seconds quicker than Josh on Saturday, yet he was five seconds quicker than me on Sunday.

This weekend I realised how much I like winning and yet I didn't win either of the hill climbs I raced. When I have won races, obviously the feeling is great, but you never fully appreciate it until you look back on it, hence the cliche so often used in post race interviews - 'It hasn't sunk in yet'. If only it was the same when losing - 'I'm not that annoyed, but I'm sure the frustration will sink in over the next few months', said no one ever. Second place is never a nice place to finish when you're chasing a win and after this happened to me on two consecutive days, I was in a fairly bad mood for the next few hours, but all the while previous victories are still 'sinking in' and began to override any negativity.

Thanks to the University of Bristol CC and Plymouth Corinthians CC for putting on the events.