Vets racing at Hog Hill part 2 - 27-05-2009
Sorry this report is late, I've only just recovered. I could have a long list of excuses for my abject performance last week. Was it the Bexley 10 the evening before? Was it "early season"? I'll ask my fellow Flandrian and Vets mentor how long we can keep using that one! Was it the use of the full circuit with that long drag up to the finish?
Whatever it was, it was very lonely out there. Up to lap 4 things were looking promising. Mixing it with the bunch, even a stint at the front (good practice for what was to come). And so it came to pass, towards the end of lap 4, I was out at the front. I didn't want to be there, I kept telling myself. Slow down, breathe steady, you know how much that hill hurts. Round the corner. There it is. Where are all the others? Sniggering behind me, that's where. They wanted a sacrifice. I inadvertantly offered myself up to alter. Not so much a ceremonial dagger through the heart, more like lead weights being hung on my legs. Not even half way up, and I was surrounded by puffing lungs, creaking knees, and lycra clad back-sides waved in my face.
And there I was, on my own again. But now I could see the others, as they disappeared over the hill. It wasn't lead in my legs then, it was my heart. Next time I see them, they'll be all over me like a swarm I thought. Not if I could help it. Never give up, never say die. You don't get fit by watching the racing. I was in West Kent colours, and I wasn't going to shame our long-standing club's name by quitting. Others had pulled up to watch the race, not me. Where's the puncture fairy when you really need her? That was the only way I was going to stop. 45 minutes and two laps of my race, and I cross the line at the same time as the winner. Nearest I ever got to the chequered flag! One lap left, oh thank you, that hurts.
I'll be there tomorrow, on the short, flat, lower circuit. Only if my hot air balloon trip doesn't go ahead. Bet you never heard that as an excuse before.
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