WEMBO 2013: Australian Perspective - Part 2

I don't think I have ever been so relaxed before a 24 hour race than I was before WEMBO 2013. Perhaps it was the lack of self imposed pressure to perform. Perhaps it was because I had been so busy having a good time with Betty and Bob that I didn't have a chance to stress. Maybe it was that day trip to the coast on the Thursday, or more likely, all of the above.

We has attended the rider briefing on the Friday arvo and were generally amused by how serious most of the racers were. Not to mention the fact that there were so many Aussies. It really did have the feel of an Aussie national series race. While various members of the 'Elite' group worried about feeding rules and the legality of earpieces while riding, we were thinking more about what beer we would drink with dinner (it was of course our WEMBO Edition Pacifica Galactica, a mid-strength red ale with plenty of hops...drank the last of the keg last week).

Us estimem!

A nervous excitement definitely started to build that afternoon as we charged lights, packed food, made up drink bottles and did last minute checks to the bikes: yep, two wheels, one gear, squeaky horn, functioning brakes. God damn I love single speeding!!!

Storm-Lo at night

That night, Phil threw together a great simple pasta meal for us, I pulled out the magic chocolate with popping candy, and it was time to sit back and listen to Bob's coaching session.

Funny thing here, I'm a pretty head strong and stubborn individual that likes doing things my way. I'm always keen to learn, but sometimes I can be slow to adopt a different way of doing things. Given that I've done something like eight 24 hour solo races, it might seem strange that I was taking a coaching lesson from someone who has done about half that number. Nothing strange at all though, it was the perfect storm with me so relaxed that I was ready to try a different approach. I'd spent the whole week thinking in Castellano and trying to learn Català, so my brain was thoroughly ready to take on a Catalan approach to racing en canvi de the Aussie way.

Betty and Bob showing us how it's done.

Bob's approach to 24 hour racing is more a philosophy of riding than a race tactic, something that really appealed to me. I'm not going to go into the details, suffice to say that it was all about staying focused, riding your own race and ending strongly.

Soaking up Bob's philosophy with Bob on my tail.

The one bit I will share here in a little more detail is the idea of visualising how you want the race to play out. Not visualising the result on the podium, but visualising how you want to be feeling, coping, experiencing and just as importantly, visualising how your mates are going to be. The idea being that if things are panning out how you visualised, molt bee, if not, then you have to change something. Maybe it means riding slower, maybe it means riding smarter, maybe it means eating more (or less), maybe it means drinking more. The trick is working it out and fixing it.

Betty, Phil & Bob doing a congo line.

The other component of this was accepting that there will be a time, probably in the early hours of the morning, when things will feel terrible and part of you will want to throw in the towel. Instead of dreading this moment and letting it rule you, welcome it, accept it as natural, take some time to ease off and find your rhythm again, then "return to normal", whatever that might be.

Threading the needle at the top of Echidna Gap with Phil on my tail.

I guess it is like embracing the flow of 24 hour racing. It's the obstacle on that flowy track that you have to absorb and move with, because if you fight it, it will throw your rhythm and enjoyment all together and you will lose the flow. 

Being on a fully rigid bike, this is vitally important both metaphorically and literally!

The philosophy of racing aside, Bob also had a very accurate prediction of how many kms would be necessary to make the podium and a prediction of how many the winner would probably do. Needless to say, he was pretty well spot on.

What goes on in this man's head? I am privileged enough to have been given a few insights and I live in awe.

The morning of the race we had a relaxed breakfast of banana bread toast, fruit and coffee. Loaded up Henry with all the gear and were out at Storml-Lo setting up our site by about 9.30.

How many Catalans does it take to reach the same height as an Aussie?

Sandwiches and fruit were prepped, other food items organised, lights laid out ready to go, broccoli and custard (the race nutrition of 24 hour champions) was set, and the flag was flying!

The secret ingredient.

Before we knew it we were suiting up in Freedom and last minute checks of cleats were being done.

Oh Yeah!

At the start line I did the same thing I had at Finale in 2012, hung at the back with Betty and Bob. Funny thing is, last year I was hanging out with strangers and at the back because my legs were rooted. This year I was hanging out with friends and at the back because Betty and I wanted to let everyone go so we could do the lap calmly together. The plan was to ride together until the top of the mountain, at which point we would each start riding at our own rhythm.

The serious end of the field ;-)

What a beautiful girl! We miss you Betty!!

I'd never started a race so calmly and relaxed, nor had I ever felt so content. By time I hit the downhills I was pinning the corners and letting the flow takeover. My energy levels were high and I actually wondered if I was taking things too easy? Nevertheless I continued riding well within my limits and had the great pleasure of riding partial laps with Betty, Bob and Phil during those early hours as we all tended to meet up back in transition as we took things nice and leisurely during the hot afternoon.

Phil doing his thing, everything going perfectly.

Around us the race for the overall lead in Elite had started hotly. My good friend Don McEdald (aka Ed McDonald) had gone out hard, knowing he didn't have the fitness to win but that he had enough to make the other guys hurt for a few hours. By all accounts he even had Mr English worried! Twice the Don lapped me while he led the race and my heart swelled with pride for him. It also filled me with a tad too much enthusiasm for speed.

Afternoon tea?

I had one small wake up call after the Don's second pass, when I decided to start hassling a mate on his dual suspension single speed, which saw me leave the trail momentarily and lose some skin on my arm, but other than that it all went seamlessly! Come the evening, as many riders on the trail started to complain of fatigue and how many hours were left, I was still feeling fresh and almost felt like crying when I realised the race was already over a third done.

Night falls on Storm-Lo.

The night is my favourite part of 24 hour racing. The pace slows a little and the mystery and beauty of the event settles in. There is a strange sense of reverence in transition as you pass through in the middle of the night. There is also a sobering realisation that some of your comrades have hung up their bikes for the night, beaten by one thing or another.

Making the most of the night.

Most of the dark hours passed without a problem, but come the pre dawn hours my lower intestines decided to cause some fun with a small case of the "squirts". I didn't really think much of it as I stopped to use the facilities, but the next lap saw me exhausted and sleepy! The sleepiness was something new for me and while I tried to treat it like any other low moment of the night, the more I eased off the sleepier I got.

The ghosts we become as the night works its magic.

The dawn lap saw me stopping repeatedly on track to relieve myself and walking my bike over obstacles because my energy levels were so low I had no confidence left on the bike (my body was expelling nutrients faster than I could consume them). I was ready to give up, the sun had risen but my spirits were as low as could be.

The undeniably beauty of the sun rising on Phil and his Salsa.

Then a strange thing happened. Some friends rode past and told me I was in second place in Single Speed. I didn't believe them at first, but the mere possibility meant that I had no right to give up. I dug deep, rode the rest of the lap with new energy and had a quick race meeting with André, our buddy back at the tent. It was true! I was in second and a lap or so up on third. It was time to do the Freedom jersey justice and time to implement the final components of Bob's strategy: finish strong!

This is that moment with Andre and Bear, getting ready for the final attack.

My body was still being less than compliant in terms of losing nutrients, but I was winning the battle. I set out to do as many laps as I could before 12pm with a clear intent to make sure I achieved that last lap with strong legs. I was once more flying around the course, whooping with delight and even managed to regain time on 1st place, probably leaving her somewhat confused by the speed with which I passed her. No matter, there were too many laps between us for me to achieve anything other than a dignified second, but that was the whole aim, a dignified finish.

Totally focused and totally committed during the final hours.

This was where the final pieces of the visualisation all came together. Going out for one last lap not long after 11am, enjoying every last minute of it, then finding Phil, Betty and Bob waiting for me on the last kilometre. It could not have finished better. Team Freedom passing under the arch together with the flags of Catalonia flying proudly in the hands of André, Bear and Alicia!

Coming home as a team!

These are moments that money cannot buy and words cannot express. Moments when race placings become irrelevant. These are the moments that become the precious memories one will carry to the grave. World titles are won and lost every year, but moments like that can never be taken away!

Picture perfect!

These are the days of the Austral-Catalan dragons!