Pain is temporary

Well that wasn't so bad. The day started out early with a 6am wake up, having slept ok (Carl was happy that Josh's warning about me being a snorer didn't hold true) and we stuffed as much food down our throats as we could handle at that time. A ten minute 'warm-up' ride to the forest helped settle the nerves and then it was time to get it on. Karl and I decided we'd ride together as long as possible, and as we rolled out around the start loop of the field light rain started to fall, but apart from a few more spots a little later, nothing came of it. The race soon sorted itself out in the early singletrack, and no-one was too keen to go hard too early. Carl passed us about 5 km in, and we didn't see him until the feed at 60km. Meanwhile, me and Karl stuck together, riding with a little group around the lake, and keeping a steady pace up the first long climb. Karl got a little ahead of me as we neared the feed, and a slight stomach cramp was giving me a bit of grief as I rolled in, around 3 hours in. I was surprised to see Carl at the feed, he told me he'd only been there about 5 minutes, and Karl was having trouble with the early onset of leg cramps. I tried to eat a sandwich but the dryness defeated me, so it was more gel and a banana, rolling off to chase the other two who had scuppered off without me. Well, I didn't actually chase, sticking to my strategy of riding my own race and keeping a steady pace and finishing in one piece. The second half of the course, while shorter, had most of the climbing, and I was already suffering by the time I got to Frontal Lobotomy, usually easily doable in the middle ring, but this time crawled up in the granny. I was keeping the food and fluid up though, and the downhills and flats were welcome for a bit of a stretch and rest, knowing there were more huge climbs to come. I was dreading the grunt up Direct Road, planning on walking and eating and maybe taking a leak, but as I started it I felt not too bad, and picked off half a dozen riders by the top. Down Hot X Buns, held up by two 50km racers, then B Rude Not 2, when the left knee and right calf started to cramp up. This was about 80 odd km in, and a guy I'd been battling with most of the race passed me again and disappeared. When I got to the bottom of Katore Rd, I knew it was the last big climb, and I could see my nemesis ahead about 400 metres. I got into the granny again and got a good rhythm going, and I was catching him pretty quickly, passing him just before the top... what I didn't know was the trail from there kept climbing, to the highest point of the race at 92km. I put in a big effort in the middle ring over the short, sharp pinches and then kept driving down the other side, with him now out of sight. Coming around a corner on the rolling downhill, Karl was right there in front of me, going very slowly. I rode straight past him, trying to keep my momentum so the other guy wouldn't catch me. I thought "I'm gonna bury Karl too". Not nice, I know. He asked how I was feeling as I passed him, and I gave a short "good" as he told me he was in a bad way. He held onto my wheel as we descended at speed, telling me how glad he was to see me and that he might not have made it if I hadn't come along. A rare moment of compassion came over me, and I asked if he wanted to finish together or sprint it out or should I just drop him (I was feeling pretty good, knowing the end was only 5km away and 6 hours was within reach). We decided that finishing together would be the way to go, but there was still a bit of climbing to go, albeit a short road climb and a few little rollers... but Karl was cramping really badly, and was screaming like a banshee as his legs tried to lock up, much to the amusement/amazement of riders around us. I told him to just ride it out, we were almost there, and gave him my bottle of Cytomax mixed with CrampStop which had helped see off my own cramp attacks, which were still threatening to hit hard at any time. A little downhill, a corner, then there it was, the finish. We rolled across the line together, and I resisted the urge to put in a sneaky sprint! Six hours, give or take (results still not up, but my computer said about 5.58 at the finish, not including a 5ish minute stop.) Carl had finished about ten minutes ahead (and on a bike he'd only picked up the day before for a magazine test, which was the wrong size), so we'd done a bloody good race, and though we were cramping, aching and empty, we were happy with a great effort, and even managed to ride back to the motel, where a spa and beers helped ease the pain. Thanks to Clare for helping us out with the feeding and moral support on the course. More photos to come from Clare later....