Route des Fonderies Royales: July 2014

I've added some photos below, it' not THAT long, honest...

"Do ya' feel lucky, punk?", honestly Clint, no not really. I re-read my last post to double check I was right in thinking I'd promised to 'bash out' another post (so eloquently put) before Belgium, and I had. Sadly I didn't because frankly there was nothing good to blog about. The three big races I was looking forward to before my month away were all ruined by misfortune. I was out of the Shrewsbury GP due to acute tendonitis (again) which meant a week off, at Bole Hill I punctured (again) after a matter of miles and Holme Valley was yet another DNS with illness (again) which meant another week off. I always hear people say "you make your own luck" or "the more you practice the luckier you get", bollocks. Maybe I should go to the shrine of the Madonna Del Ghisallo, get down on my knees and say a little prayer for good fortune. But lets face it; I've got more chance of riding no handed and blindfolded to victory in the Ronde Van Vlaanderen next year as a stagiaire for BMC than that has of ever helping me. So as you can imagine I wasn't in tip top shape to go to Belgium but no matter, it's not like the racing is hard or anything!!

It took a while to get any sort of form back after nearly a month without any proper training or racing, a 29th, 28th and 21st was the best I could place in my first few weeks. You sometimes question whether riding through cramp and to the point of vomiting just to get a top 30 or to try and make a break is worth it when you're not 100%, but I knew I'd benefit from it during the second half of my stay. I was living at Sporthuis Nokere again, just outside of Kruishoutem, with Dan Whelan who's out there all season riding for Asfra Racing Team. It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't race bikes or even someone who hasn't spent any time racing over in Europe why it's so difficult spending time racing in the likes of Belgium. Race days are as follows: get up around early afternoon, eat, lay on your bed, eat some more, ride out or drive to a race, race, ride or drive home, eat, then go to bed. Rest days follow the exact same pattern but just substitute 'race' for 'recovery ride' and add in 'go food shopping' and there you have it. Admittedly that doesn't sound so bad, but it's the repetitive nature of everything that begins to take it's toll, eating the same meals day after day, watching the same excruciating American TV programs, going to the shops not because you need to but because it's just 'something to do'. I probably shouldn't write this in case my mum sees it but one day Dan and I actually argued over who wanted to wash the dishes more. Above all the racing is just damn hard, not the conditions, I love wind and rain in a race and in a flat country being a 64kg rider that should be a recipe for disaster, but I love it, it's the style that's so punishing. The mentality is something along the lines of "we could work together and in doing so conserve energy and pull that move back, but no, lets attack the crap out of each other for the next few hours and just kick each other's heads in." It hurts at the time and you feel pretty spent for 24 hours after but in truth after a day of doing very little you're just itching for the next one. Even when you're breathing out your arse in the pouring rain fighting to hold the wheel in-front you have rare moments where you think to yourself; "this is f*cking fantastic."

The second couple of weeks went a lot better, I got 17th at Beveren-Leie after bridging to a small group on my own and working for a got half an hour to pull back the break. We got within striking distance but couldn't quite make the junction with the likes of Laurent Vanden Bak pulling up front. Two days later I rode out to an U23 race in Grammene, the wind was super strong and it was easily the most aggressive race I did while out there. I jumped clear of my group (second on the road) with 5km to go and got within a few hundred metres of the break but died and was caught with a km to go, I managed to jump on a surge down the right of the road just before the last corner and finished 3rd in the bunch, 14th overall. I punctured in my home race at Kruishoutem which I was gutted about but managed to get 10th later that week at a race in Ardooie. The race was won by Joeri Calleeuw, he sat on the front for about 8km and strung the bunch into one line to pull a break back. It was like we were all school children and he was the teacher, furious at us all but nobody knew why and nobody dared ask, we all just sat there in silence and were given a lesson. He then attacked and won solo. My last race was in Harelbeke, horrendous conditions from start to finish. I jumped clear on the 3rd or 4th lap to take a prime and got a decent gap so decided to press on, four other very strong riders came across and we were away for the majority of the race during which I managed to get a bit more money from some primes. Sadly the group swelled and we were caught, a counter move went immediately but I was cooked, I recovered a bit and attacked with a few kilometres to go to stay away for 13th. I can't thank Dan enough for all the lifts in his car, handing bottles and being a top mate while I was out there.

Special thanks to Paul Lockett from Esquire Glass who very generously helped out in covering accommodation costs and some essentials before I went. Thanks also to Paul Haynes who let me stay at his place down in Spaldwick after missing my last train to Warrington due to all the Eurostar delays. My first race back in the UK was the Stockton GP (Nat A) which was as hard as expected and 4 hours, 112 miles and 41,040 heart beats later I got round in one piece and finished in the main bunch. I picked up a bug soon after but have recovered and am now training hard for my next 5 races, if my legs and body play ball I'm confident I can get the results I feel I deserve. Cheers for reading and sorry it's all been a bit serious! I've put a few of my favourite photos below,

Tommeke