Far From Perf-ect: the art of messing up the first race of the season

So, 2017 has started- and, as with basically every year, it's started badly. Yes, once again I took on the Perf's, and once again the Perf's handed my arse back to me on a plate.

The Perf's Pedal Race is one of longest running (if not the longest running) road races in the UK: it's the first National B ranked race of the season, and with a lot of bored bike racers sitting at home, it tends to attract a strong field. It's also got a reputation for horrendous weather and rough, narrow roads. It's a cocktail which leads to a brutally hard race, which in a sport as masochistic as road racing explains its popularity. The Perf's has been my season opener for the last three years, and every single time I've done awfully. In fact- and I hate to admit it- I've never actually finished it. And so, the inspiration for this blog post was born: the art of messing up the Perf's Pedal Race.

Part 1: 2015, the year of the borrowed bike
This is a particularly embarrassing one, especially for someone who was working in a bike shop at the time. A few days before the race, I'd had a bit of an accident in training: although I was fine, I'd given the bike a bit of a knock and damaged one of my gear levers- and as anyone who has damaged a Shimano STI lever will know, they only sell them in pairs, and they're really quite pricey.

"Perfect!" I thought to myself, "I might as well upgrade to an 11 speed groupset!"

As it was just my training bike, I figured the new Shimano 5800 would do the job perfectly. I logged on to the Shimano dealer website, but (horror!) they were out of stock. In fact, it was out of stock everywhere. Everywhere, that was, except for Wiggle. Now, I normally don't touch online shops with a barge pole, but on this occasion I made an exception- I needed the parts, and I figured if I was spending a fair chunk of money anyway I might as well do the job properly. So I ordered it with plenty of time to spare, safe in the knowledge that it would arrive well before the race with plenty of time to fit it. Oh how wrong I was...

A man using a barge pole: one of the many implements
I would recommend not touching online shops with.

Fast forward to the day before the race: my components hadn't turned up, my training bike was in pieces (waiting for its new parts...), and my beautiful new Bianchi was still waiting for a longer seat post before I could ride it. The result: no bike. So I sent out a desperate plea on social media for a bike to borrow- Rob, my boss at Just Pedal got in touch and offered to let me use his Canyon Endurace for the day. Perfect.

So, in the early hours of Sunday morning I was tinkering with a bike two sizes too small for me, trying to make it fit- there wasn't much chance of it working, even without Canyon's ridiculous steerer tube design meaning I couldn't change the stem. Still, I made it to the start line, albeit on what must have looked to anyone else like a very flash child's bike. However that was about as far as I made it- throwing the bike into the first corner it became incredibly apparent that bikes that small really don't handle well for me. Not wanting to end my day peeling myself off the tarmac, I turned round, got back in my car and headed home. The moral of the story? Don't trust the internet.



Part 2: 2016, the year of the solo breakaway

This is the one I'm most proud of. It was my first race with my new Bottecchia team: we had a good group of guys there, I was in good shape, I was feeling motivated. Maybe slightly too motivated. As the flag came down, I dropped the hammer and shot off the front of the bunch. You know, because I never make the first attack in a road race and regret it later. Nope, not me...

I flicked my elbow for someone to come through. Glanced back. No one there. Decent gap back to the peloton. Better crack on then...

Who needs pelotons anyway?

A few kilometers down the road, I glanced back again. Still a decent gap to the peloton, which was now headed by a train of green and black: Pedal Heaven. "Might as well keep going," I thought, "someone might bridge across to me."

A few more kilometers down the road, and nobody had bridged. And there was no more gap. Oh dear. Just as I was getting ready to slip back into the peloton, the lead car slammed on its brakes and the neutralised flag came back out. The race had been stopped to allow an ambulance to pass- as we stood in the cold for a few minutes, I could feel my legs start to freeze up, and as we started riding again I knew I was going to suffer. Then, at the end of the first lap, we were stopped again so a few people could be ejected from the race for dangerous riding. A few more minutes in the cold. This time, when we restarted I had absolutely nothing in my legs. I'd completely frozen over. As soon as the pace picked up, I was out the back.

The moral of the story this time? Don't race like an idiot.

Part 3: 2017, the year of forgetting I'm asthmatic 

This year I went training in southern Spain, staying with an ex teammate of mine who runs Siempre Ciclismo. It's a great bit of the world to ride a bike, and Gavin knows the roads like the back of his hand. Definitely recommended.

In the fortnight leading up to the Perf's I'd been clocking up some huge miles, really re-finding my road cycling legs after a lot of track and gym work through the winter. My numbers were good, I'd recovered well, and I felt strong. Basically, I was really confident, and wanted to be flying the Hoops Velo colours at the sharp end of the race. However there was one major factor I hadn't taken into account- British weather.

I've been a diagnosed asthmatic for most of my life now, and one of my pet niggles is the recent trend of armchair athletes making jokes about how we're making it up to get a performance boost. It's got noticeably worse in the wake of the Brad Wiggins TUE revelations. Anyway, asthma is one of those weird conditions where you'll function perfectly for 364 days of the year, and the 365th feels like you're about to die. The Perf's this year was one of those days.

For me, my usual asthma triggers are cold and damp conditions, and guinea pigs. Although there have been many occasions when I have put my hand out to receive a water bottle only to recoil as I realise I'm actually being offered a guinea pig, on this occasion it was the cold that got me. Having been training in Spain, I'd got perfectly used to doing huge efforts right on the limit of my lung capacity without any problems. As a result, using my inhaler before the race didn't even occur to me.

The moment the hammer went down, I knew something was wrong. My legs felt super strong, but as soon as I tried to suck the freezing air into my lungs, it felt like I was wearing a belt around my chest. I was flying backwards on a climb where normally I should be able to keep up with the riders at the front. A split appeared a few riders in front of me, but I was already right on the limit. Even following wheels I wasn't recovering- my heart rate wasn't coming down, and I simply couldn't get enough air in. I glanced at my power meter- was I really going anaerobic at 250W?

Front group. Dropped.
Second group. Dropped.
Third group: missed the time cut. Game over.

Another year, another Perf's Pedal Race gone wrong. On the upside though, it's a lesson I won't forget. Time to get the proper racing underway...

And at least after 6 years of racing I finally got the best number.



Cheers for reading!
Pete

Points chasing, riding in ovals, and eating biscuits

A blog post more regularly than once every 2 years! Wow!

I finally drew my 2016 season to a close a few weeks back, and to be honest it's taken a little while to work out exactly what to write. It's not like I've been lacking in time either (I haven't touched my bike for two weeks!) I've just not been able to find the words. Anyway, in a moment of clarity between digestive biscuits (McVitie's Dark Chocolate, obviously) while binge watching Peep Show,  it finally hit me- relief.

My road season actually finished in mid October at the first round of the Surrey League Ottershaw series- I needed a top 5 to maintain my 1st Cat license, and I was unashamedly points chasing. On the day however, everything seemed to be conspiring against me- and when I say everything, I think I mean myself. I'd left my British Cycling license in Loughborough, my arm warmers at home, my embrocation oil in the wrong bag, I forgotten to wash my kit so my shorts were still slightly damp from the wash... I don't know if I was subconsciously trying to sabotage myself or what, but my main feeling that morning while getting changed in the cold was "what the fuck am I doing here?"
I was mentally drained, and in all honesty racing was the last thing on my mind.
Anyway, as it happened forgetting my armwarmers was possibly the best thing I could have done- as soon as the neutralised flag came down I was on the front churning out the Watts simply trying to keep warm. I flicked my elbow for someone to come through- nothing. I glanced back- I was by myself. Right then.
A lap later, another rider came across to me- Graham Crow from Handsling Racing. Another lap, and two more riders joined us- Mikey Mottram from Morvelo Basso, and Jack Taylor from Planet X. It was a solid group- nobody pissed about, and we rapidly built up a solid lead over the bunch. My head was back in the game- I knew I had my top 5. Could I convert it into a win?

With 5km to go, Mikey hit it hard as I finished my turn. The other two could respond, but I was going backwards- don't panic, hold it steady, bring them back.
We all came back together with 1km to go.
Sit on the back, save your legs.
750m to go- Jack Taylor kicked away from us
Too early, hold it steady
500m to go- he's still away
He'll tie up soon- hold it steady.
250m to go- Graham lights it up
Almost there, almost there...
200m to go- Mikey gets out of the saddle.
Don't give him the chance- GO GO GO!
100m to go- I'm leading.
All the way now Pete, all the way
50m to go- still me.
Fuck me this hurts. Where is everyone? 
0m to go.
 YES! 

Celebrating from the drops: I didn't think I had enough of a gap to throw my hands in the air.

Big shout and a fist in the air to celebrate. 1st Cat license maintained. Season over. Relief.

Except for my season wasn't over- I had a month until the British Universities and Colleges Sport (BUCS) Track Championships. I was representing Loughborough in the Team Pursuit. I had unsettled business with that race after finishing 5th with the Loughborough B team  last year- this year I was riding in the A team, with a championship title to defend.
The month leading up to BUCS disappeared in no time- I was doing my best to stretch out my road form for as long as possible. My legs were just about hanging in there, but mentally I was exhausted. In the week leading up to the race, my taper was perfect- I did a short spin the day before and my legs felt fantastic.
Warming up on the day, I felt good. I was relaxed, confident- all we had to do was repeat the speeds we were doing in our training sessions, and we should win. Simple, right? Nope.
I'm not quite sure what happened, but a few minutes before our qualifying ride, I was gripped by nerves. Not just the usual pre race nerves, but full on confidence crisis nerves. This was new...
We got called up for our start- as favourites, we were seeded in the last heat. The current fastest qualifying time was still slower than our training rides, and the track was running super fast. This should be straight forward. But I was right on the edge- if someone had said the wrong thing to me while we were waiting to go up, I either would have punched them or cried. Either way, not quite the right zone to be in.
5 seconds. Breathe in.
4 seconds. Breathe out.
3 seconds. Breathe in.
2 seconds. Out of the saddle.
1 second. Lunge back.
0 seconds. GO!

Perfect start- a rapid opening lap, we were in formation straight away, Jonny hauled us up to speed and we were flying. It took less than 4 laps to catch the opposing team. Tom finished his turn and swung up the track. My turn.
 This hurts. This really hurts. Hold the pace. Only half a lap and you're done. Perfect, swing up. Swing down. Hold the wheel. Oh shit.
In my adrenaline/nerve fueled state, I'd completely overcooked my turn. I was supposed to last the full distance, and I'd blown at 1250m. This wasn't meant to happen. Thankfully the guys got the message that they were down to three men, and managed to see it through to the end. Fastest qualifiers. Phew.

Still, this wasn't good for my ongoing confidence crisis. I rolled back round to the track centre, and proceeded to lie down and attempt to get my head back together. I was after anything to help me quantify just why I'd blown up so badly- sadly, on the track, rubbing brakes isn't a valid excuse! Anyway, ultimately I'd just gone way too fast on my turn. Lesson learned. Time to warm up for the final.

Thankfully by the time the final rolled around, I'd pulled myself together. We were racing the full 4km in the final, and it wasn't about times- all we had to do was beat the team on the opposite side of the track. Much easier to process. This time, I got it right- fast, but not too fast. Perfect change, back on Tom's wheel. Sam was tearing our legs off on the front, which considering he was racing the National Hill Climb Champs just a few weeks previously was super impressive. Sam finished his turn. Jonny finished his. Tom finished his. Me again. Do what you do in training- ride until you blow. 
Full gas. Swing up. Done. 

As we'd arranged previously, I pulled off at 3km, which meant I got to see the boys finish the job off from the top of the track- admittedly through slightly blurred vision. Gold medal. Job done. Relief.

Burying myself in the final. L-R Me, Sam Mansfield, Jonny Wale, Tom Ward.

I'd planned well in advance to have a few weeks off after BUCS. There's been a lot of crap food, nights out drinking, and nights in sitting around doing nothing. Although it's been necessary, the novelty does wear off a bit, and I'm dead excited to get back into training this week.

Anyway- until next time!

A very happy Loughborough squad after taking the overall rankings in both the men and women's competitions.

Cycling, with a Mechanical Engineering degree on the side

Hello! After many years (and many attempts at remembering my Blogspot password...) I'm finally writing again. I'm pretty sure I say in basically every blog post that it's going to become a more regular thing, so I'll avoid that- but hopefully it will...

The last two years have been a whirlwind for me- between my time working at Hoops Velo, rolling around Europe with Just Pedal, and (shock) finally starting my degree at Loughborough Uni, my blog fell by the wayside a bit.

So yes, the main change- university! As my dad likes to joke, "studying cycling with a Mechanical Engineering degree." And as everyone else likes to remind me "the worst degree choice to combine with competitive sport." Neither statement is particularly far from the truth...

After completing my A Levels, going to uni was the last thing on my mind. In all honesty I'd been pretty fed up with education since about year 10, but I thought I'd be sensible and apply with a deferral. One year on I thought to myself "maybe I should defer again..." And so, in September 2015, two years after most of my friends, I finally bit the bullet and started my degree at Loughborough Uni.

The next few months were a blur: going from my pretty much set routine of "work; train; sleep; race" into "drinksleeplecturetraindrinkdrinklecturetrainnaplecturesleep" was a massive shock to the system. Eventually January exams rolled round and reality had to set in- whereas A-levels were tough but I always knew I'd pass, at University there was a genuine chance if I screwed up I'd be out. And that wouldn't be ideal...

Grinding up a climb in a particularly chilly road race...

Throughout all this, despite what everyone seemed to believe, I had actually been training really hard. I was lean, I'd been riding on the track throughout the winter for some top end fitness, I had a new team in the form of TBW Bottecchia UK- I was buzzing to go. Then in April, it all came unstuck. 

My first few races of the year had been steady, but promising- I usually take a few weeks to ride into the season, and in mid April I really hit my stride. Guiding out in Andalucia with Just Pedal I was flying up the climbs, hitting numbers I'd never seen before. Then, on my first day back in the UK, I hit a pothole at 38mph while racing in the Les Ingman Memorial Road Race. My head did an excellent job as a braking surface. Wear a helmet, kids!

Waiting for the pain to kick in. It did. Hard.

After that, 2016 didn't get any better. It took weeks to get properly back on the bike, summer exams came and went, and I could never find my form again. I was having massive problems with fatigue, coordination, dizziness on the bike- basically anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Occasionally I'd have glimmers of the level I was riding at before, but I could never quite hold it. In summary, on the bike at least, 2016 was shit.

Thankfully I've had an incredibly supportive team around me both on and off the bike. My plans for 2017 are already taking shape, and hopefully with a good winter I can fix all the various problems that held me back this year. And on that note- until next time!

Another season, another blog post...

So, once again, it's been a few months since I've written anything- I'll get good at this eventually, honest!

The last few months have been absolutely hectic, with a fantastic cocktail of training, racing, guiding with Just Pedal, and a new job at Hoops Velo. There have been too many things that I could count as highlights over the last few months, so I'm going to split it into two posts- one about racing, and one about guiding. So here we go...

VC Meudon Ras de Cymru 2014
(L-R) Tom Bowering, Peter Hitt, James Bevan, Albert Ellison

I think the last time I posted something was just before the Ras de Cymru, the five-day stage race in Wales. After a disaster of an individual time trial ("Pace yourself," they said. "You'll go faster," they said), my General Classification chances were scuppered, and I eventually finished 42nd out of 100 starters. I wasn't too happy with that, but considering that in 2013 I couldn't even finish the race I couldn't complain. We finished the week on a high after finishing 4th in the Team General Classification, and two of our riders in the top 20- result!


The upside of my average result at the Ras was an incredible run of form in the following weeks- if anything, it was too good. My first race following the Ras was a Surrey League 2/3 on the notoriously tough Ladies' Mile circuit, and I felt ridiculously strong. I didn't even have to get out of the saddle to ride off the front of the group on the first climb, and ended up riding the first 50km as a time trial. When I was eventually pulled back, I attacked straight away, and was off the front for yet another 30km. After being wound in with 20km to go, I eventually missed the winning break by two bike lengths and had to settle for sixth place.
There was no logic to the way I raced that day, I was just enjoying riding my bike as hard as possible.

After taking 3rd place (from a bunch sprint...) in the next race I entered, I was absolutely determined to get a win. I set my sights on the Surrey League race at Parham Park- a rough circuit with gravel, cattle grids, narrow roads and a reputation for punctures; almost a mini Roubaix.
I put in a few digs on the opening laps, but having been marked as a strong rider by a few teams I wasn't being given much leeway. Eventually I had to ask my teammate Albert to hit the front to catch the breakaway and string out the field- he drilled it on the front of the peloton for a whole lap, and I finally got my chance to go on the offensive. I launched a full on sprint as we crested a climb, and after 6 laps away with Simon McNamara sprinted to my second win of 2014- not bad considering I'd been dropped on that circuit the previous year...

Getting my hands in the air at the finish...

I eventually finished my season on a high after winning a local 25 mile time trial, and repaying Albert for his help at Parham Park by setting him up for a win at the Gravesend Cyclopark. It was tempting to keep racing through November to chase my 1st Cat license, but that's something that can wait until 2015. I've proved to myself a few times this season that I'm heading in the right direction to start winning at a higher level, and hopefully another solid winter of training will put me where I need to be next year.

Thanks to everyone that's made my year what it's been: the management at VC Meudon for giving me another chance after a dismal 2013; my coach, Darrell, for keeping my training on track all year; and last of all, my teammates for another year of laughs and making my results possible.

Cheers guys- time to go and ride my bike in the wet for a few months...

Steep hills, and an even steeper learning curve

With another chunk of the season done and dusted, I figured it was probably time for me to write some stuff. Tada!

The past few weeks have been a steep learning curve for me; having proved to myself that I can comfortably compete for podium positions at a regional level (Cat 2/3 races), I turned my sights to the next step up- E12 races on the National scene. 

As always, throwing myself in at the deep end seemed the best way to go about this new target, and my first Elite race of 2014 was at the South East Road Race League (SERRL) spring stage race. I didn't really have aspirations in the General Classification, so my main objective was to survive the three days- but objectives tend to go out of the window when the racing adrenaline kicks in. That said, so does common sense...

The first road stage was a stark reminder of just how fast Elite racing can be, and it wasn't on the climbs where I was struggling- it was the descents. People often disregard road cycling as a boring, safe alternative to Cross Country or Downhill mountain biking- but descending at over 80 km/h wearing just a thin layer of Lycra, and some puffed up foam on your head for protection is definitely neither boring or safe. Add in that you can't see the road ahead of you because your sight is blocked by some other bloke's arse, and it's downright stupid. I found at pretty quickly that the only way to stay in the bunch is to switch off the bit of your brain that says "no." After that, things got a lot easier.

The rest of the weekend was very much the same- having suffered a mechanical on stage two, I dropped down the GC, but finished with the bunch on every other stage and wound up 33rd of around 60 starters by the end of the three days. Having never completed a stage race before, I was pretty pleased with myself.

With one stage race ticked off, the next was the Condor Three Day in London- three 80km Crit races in three days. With no team support, I knew it would be a tough race; I had to find the balance between controlling the race to a situation that would suit me, and having the legs left to get a result. 

After my bid to win the overall went down the toilet when my breakaway partner on stage two punctured, I went about picking up a few bonus seconds where I could, and eventually finished 11th overall, once again out of around 60 starters. Despite it being a decent result, and clearly a sign of progression, I couldn't help but be slightly disappointed to have finished outside the top 10 when I felt it was a race I could have won. 

On the attack at the Condor Three Day

Back to single day races, and it was time for the Bec CC Road Race down in Kent. I went into the race off the back of a heavy week of training, so I was never expecting much- so when I realised only half of the field made it into the last 60km of the race I was pretty pleased with myself. I eventually got dropped on some super steep climbs with 40km to go, but rode by myself to the finish- that hurt a lot. I think I was actually on track for a top 20 until I turned the wrong way at a junction on the final lap- the marshals had just packed up, and so had my brain. 

Finally, the big target had arrived- the Central Divisional Championships. Having originally planned for and trained for the South East Championships, I received an email two weeks before the event telling me that I lived in the Central region- woops. This meant that once again I would have no team support, and was going into the race having never ridden the course. 

Therefore, the logical thing to do was attack on the first lap. Obviously. Four of us went up the road almost as soon as the neutralised flag came down, and quickly built up a lead- but by the end of lap 5 only two of us were left, and we still had 80km to go. However we still had a three minute advantage over a chasing group, and I was pretty convinced that we could hold on to our lead. However after 120km two riders bridged to us on the hardest part of the course- somehow Henry Latimer held on, but my legs were in pieces. 

Eventually I was forced to pull out- once the adrenaline of being in a winning position had faded, the effects of such a hard race started to take their toll, and I could hardly ride in straight line. However I was seriously pleased with my performance; I'd proved to myself that I could really make a mark on an Elite race. I've had a few people ask why I didn't just sit in and ride to a top 20 at the Divs, and the easiest way to explain my mindset is a quote by the ever invincible Jens Voigt;

"If you go with a break, you can either win or not win. If you don't go for it, you definitely won't win."

In the break at the Divs- my face tells the whole story.

In the breakaways, on the podium...

With my first (slightly short) block of racing out of the way, I can safely say 2014 has got off to a solid start! A few days in Majorca with Just Pedal provided welcome relief from the grim weather in Britain, and helped sharpen me up before my first race of the season.

My race program kicked off properly with the Surrey League race at Dunsfold, with my main objective being to win the morning Cat 3 race, before racing the afternoon Cat 2/3 race in support of my teammates.
However my morning ambitions were brought to a rather sudden stop when I punctured after just an hour of racing. At this point, I was ready to climb in the car and go home- I was pretty annoyed that I could work hard all winter just to have my race ruined by a small stone in my tyre. However a few guys from VC Meudon talked me into signing up for the afternoon race- and it was definitely worth it.
As I didn't have the time or equipment with me to change a tyre on my race bike, I pulled my training bike out of the car and started to warm up on that. It only took me a few seconds to figure out something was wrong- I had changed my position on my race bike while I was out in Majorca, and hadn't had the opportunity to change my training bike to match. After a few minutes tweaking the bike, I got in a speedy warmup and I was ready to race. Then, two and a half hours later, I was crossing the finish line with my hands in the air.
In all honesty, there's not much to write about during the actual race- three riders (including myself) got away, and we just stayed there, always lingering 30-40 seconds ahead of the peloton. It wasn't until the last lap that I really considered we were going to win, and after 100km of riding on the limit there was no way I was finishing second. I clung to Stuart Bettis' (my breakaway partner) wheel on the last kick up to the finish, before putting everything I had into a few pedal strokes to pass him before the line, celebrating with around 60m to go. I was absolutely ecstatic- after the disappointments of 2013, this was exactly how I wanted my year to start.

Taking 2nd place at Hillingdon, sprinting from a 12 man split.

Two more top 10s the following weekend gave me confidence that my fitness was definitely in the right place working towards my next big target- the National TT Series. However, just a few days before the event, my preparations quite literally took a knock when a car drove into the back of me towards the end of a training ride. Over the next 48 hours, my back muscles kept tightening, and although I managed to push through the pain to claim 2nd place in the Beyond Spring Crits, I couldn't repeat the trick in Sunday's time trial. Halfway through, I was forced to sit up as I could no longer sit in the "tuck" position, and after that my average speed just plummeted. I finished a long way down the field, and was absolutely gutted.

However, in a weird way, it's left me even more motivated for my next event, the SERRL Spring Stage Race. I hate to have opportunities taken from me by "bad luck", whether it's puncturing, suffering from injury, or simply missing a winning break in a road race. But from what I've found so far this year, the harder I work, the luckier I seem to get.

Celebrating my first win of 2014 at Dunsfold, after a 100km breakaway.
Photo by www.themomentimages.com

New starts and a cheeky trip to Majorca...

With my winter training almost complete and the new season looming on the near horizon, I figured it was finally time to return to the keyboard and write about what I've been up to- enjoy! 

Having started properly training again at the start of December, I was determined to step up my game and put my poor (and frankly embarrassing) 2013 season behind me. I took up a new, more selfish work ethic- training first, everything else second. Despite the obvious pitfalls of having to skip nights out with friends while they were back from uni, and spending 2 hours in the garage on my turbo trainer on Christmas Day, I was loving it. Progress was immediately obvious from such a regimented routine, and I couldn't wait to get back into racing. However 2013 had the last laugh- on New Year's Eve a car turned across the road in front of me, and I smacked straight into the bonnet at 20mph. 

Thankfully (I can only put it down to dense bones or something like that) I walked/limped/slowly rode away relatively unscathed, albeit slightly shaken up. Crashes then became the theme of the first fortnight of 2014- a pileup at my first round of the Imperial Winter Series (I somehow stayed upright...) meant the race was called off, rapidly followed by two heavy crashes on black ice during training. What did I learn from this? Escape the cold, go to Majorca...

The trip to Majorca had been planned for a while, and it couldn't have come at a better time- while I was gone, the UK was battered by heavy rain and high winds; meanwhile, I was enjoying smooth roads, sunshine and long climbs. 

Majorca is an absolute cyclist paradise, and reminded me just why I love riding my bike- a recovery spin could easily turn into a 3 hour ride around the countryside, just because being on the bike is so enjoyable. The Spanish way of life is fantastic as well; everyone is unbelievably relaxed, and for the whole time I was there I had no run-ins with angry Spanish drivers. 

My favourite aspect of Majorca, though, is the mountains. Whether going up or down, they're incredible- the views are unbelievable, and being able to descend at 75kph without the risk of hitting a pothole is something that just happen in the UK. 

Having put out some of my best training numbers ever, and seeing the sprint finish of a Pro race for the first time at the Challenge Majorca, I came back to the UK absolutely raring to race, and not even shocking weather could put me down. Which was lucky, because that's exactly what we got.

My first race back was at Longcross driver training circuit- a 3.2km loop, with no obstacles or real corners, however a block headwind on the finishing straight would make for challenging racing. The weather changed constantly throughout the race, and I'm pretty sure the only form of precipitation we didn't get was snow. As a result of the inclement weather conditions, a crash involving one of my teammates occurred with a few laps to go. By this point I was riding blind, with spray from other riders covering my glasses- I heard the crash before I saw anything, and moved out of the peloton to keep myself safe. Thankfully nobody was seriously injured, and after a neutralised lap the race was back on. 

As I figured it would, the race came down to a bunch sprint- with my teammate Richard sitting on my wheel, I swung across to the right hand side of the road before winding up my sprint. As I swung over to the left he sped through, narrowly missing out on the win to a Pedal Heaven rider. I hung on for 5th (officially, although I think I was 3rd...), which I was pretty happy with considering the way that the race had finished- I'm not a fan of bunch sprints...

With that out of the way, my next race is at the start of March- but not before another Majorca trip! This time I'll be going with Just Pedal, working as a ride leader. I'm pretty thrilled to be given the opportunity to go back out there, and hope to make the most of it. 

I'm also off to Eastbourne with the VC Meudon RT guys this weekend, which despite the cold and rain should be fun- although I guess that depends on your definition of "fun"...

Anyway, thanks for reading and I shall hopefully write again soon! 

Pete