An action packed blur comes to mind when trying to recall recent happenings. When nearing the end of the season, a rider must work out when they want to attain a final 'peak' in form before declining to the off season. However, sometimes form can sneak up on you, as I found out during my final races in Italy. I felt no different going in, but all of a sudden something clicked. When previously I fell slightly short of the mark, I could now cut the mustard, consequently netting three top twenties in as many races.
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| Sprinting to 18th at Giro del Valdarno. Emotions were a mix of joy and relief. |
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Crossing the Swiss Border after climbing from
Aosta up the Grand St Bernad - 32km at 6%. |
Perhaps my morale was fuelled by planning my end of season trip home - a touring trip back to the UK, taking in 700 miles over 5 days. Compared to racing, this would be a stress free experience, purely focusing on enjoying the bike. To escape from the regimented life of being a full time cyclist and have no agenda apart from turning the pedals felt liberating, but of course there was some sadness leaving my team mates and 'Casa Zappi'.
On the first day I passed through the Valle d'Aosta - the playground of my toughest race of the year. Some unpleasant memories were unearthed, but I mostly felt pride from my own, and my team mates performances. I stopped atop the Grand St Bernard pass, just before the Swiss border for my last decent coffee, before enjoying the fast, twisting descent.
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| Home for the night in Burgundy |
My competitive spirit still remained, so one of my goals for the trip was to ride the furthest I ever had in a day. To add to the fun, I made this the last day and pre booked my ferry. A small problem I came across is the fact that rural France is an agricultural desert on Sundays, which meant I had to plan carefully to avoid the dreaded 'bonk'. I managed to find a kebab shop open until 1am, so I had my final refuel, charged my Garmin and they even put on English TV for me. After around 350km It was 2am and the fatigue was catching up with me, so I pulled over for a forty minute nap in a ditch before continuing on my way. The last hours were a mental battle more than anything. Thick fog had descended, so much so that my super bright light couldn't penetrate more than ten metres. Going fast was out of the question (not that I could've injected much speed at this point), I just had to focus on rolling along. Signs of life started to emerge as I neared the port, but I couldn't start to enjoy myself until the final two kilometres. Eventually, after 16 hours and 415km of riding, I made it to Caen.
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One of many beautiful Swiss views.
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I left myself five days at home before going to Cardiff University to study Engineering. The first couple of days were spent recovering, before attempting to try and get my head around moving in. I've now been in Cardiff for less than a week, but it's been incredible and although it rains a lot of the time, there is something I've missed about riding in the UK - the meandering country lanes, climbs that are stupidly steep and of course, being able to order beans on toast at the cafe.
In terms of upcoming racing, I'll be doing some hill climbs, mainly just for fun while I'm starting my course, before building towards making next season the best yet.
