"In case your wondering that isnt me, Its the winner of Elite Het Volk from Beveren 2000 U23 Quick Step Team"
Upon arriving back in Belgium after the National Champ’s one would have thought I could have steadily gotten into some racing again with some cremmese's (circuit races around towns, usually 15+ laps of an 8km loop) but I was in for a shock. I was in the country for 1 day and I was contacted by the team manager who informed that he wanted me to race Omloop Het Nieuwsblad AkA Het Volk.... to pass up on such an opportunity would be madness, but I was soon to find out it was accepting the challenge which was to be the mad part.
The prep for Het Volk was vitally important, after arriving back on Wednesday and the race being on Saturday I had 3 days to prepare. After having a quality chat with my coach Scott Mc Donald from Winning Solutions Training Company, we set in place what I would need to do in order to have myself ready such as nutrition, training, equipment prep and tactics and over the following 3 days I made sure everything was in place. Saturday came pretty quick and with so did a change in the weather, on Friday evening it had been mid 30's and sunshine but on Saturday morning the dark gloomy clouds were hanging on the horizon slowly advancing on Zottegem which was the town from where the race would depart.
As usual the team travelled to the race as a group, the riders all getting into the old death trap of a mini bus that we have nicknamed the ‘funbus’ and the backup crew driving the van that houses all our bikes equipment and etc, and the manager driving the estate follow car. We made it to Zottegem in good time, and already there were a lot of teams there getting ready and signing on. Once my bike had been prepared for me, I gave it a final check over to make sure all was set, made my way to sign on and began my warm up. At this stage the nerves were seriously kicking in as Quick step, Lotto, and other top Belgian teams rolled by me, among which was the An Post crew sporting their new national champion Matt Brammier.
I heard the Comm blowing the whistle to alert all riders to assemble for the start, so looping on the road I made my way there. I positioned myself up beside my team mates and almost instantly we rolled out. Neutralised for a mere half Km with the drop of the flag it took off like a gun.
I had to battle super hard to keep what position I had in the bunch, the tempo was insane with speeds almost constantly in excess of 50kmh. with the array of street furniture scattered all over, and the daunting racket of bikes smashing into obstacles was almost constant. Lying in the rear section of the bunch was far from the safest place to be so making a massive effort I battled my way to the front, with handlebars clashing off each other and other cyclists leaning on me in an attempt to unnerve me, I had to use all my bike control skills to advance forward.
After 20km the race was set to turn up a narrow road and climb the Volkemberg, a steep 1km climb which is followed by an extremely rough cobble section of 2km. This made having a good position upon turning the bend vital, which after all my smashing, handlebar crashing and battling for position, I had achieved. The pace up the climb was insane with a large split taking place as the riders in the bunch hit the cobble section; I dug in deep and used all my power to haul my bike over the cobbles. The lashing rain and greasy stones was bringing riders to the floor left, right and centre, but I managed to keep up in the front bunch and avoid disaster. Next we descended into Oudenarrde at speeds in excess of 90kmh, the large open main road making it possible. With wet roads and large looping bends all I could do was lean in and hope that my tyres had what takes to carry me out the other side. After Oudenarrde we once again turned up a narrow Back road only to be faced with the Eckenburg which was a 1.5km cobbled climb, which was covered in mud which tractors had dragged from the fields over the morning. This made riding central on the cobbles impossible with a few trying only to find their bikes sliding right from beneath them as their tyres span in attempt to gain grip.
This forced the main bulk of the bunch to make their way upward in the gravel and mud filled gutter which ran along the side. With the stronger riders up front still forcing the massive pace onwards, more splits were becoming evident in the strung bunch as the steep gradient and rough conditions were becoming too much for many of the riders. All I could do was hold my position as I suffered heavily and hope that the riders in front of me were able to do the same.
When we finally touched tarmac again I glanced up the road only to see groups of riders scattered all over up to 1km into the distance. There were about 20riders with me, 1 of whom was Matt Brammier and another An Post rider. They were putting large turns in at the front in attempt to regain contact with those ahead. It was at this stage I was really suffering with heavy cross winds bearing down on us and no sign of it letting up.
My morale was taking a serious blow. I was really struggling to hold the wheel in front of me and my legs were loaded with lactic and begging me to stop, but I couldn’t give in. Pressing on hard and taking serious chances I lodged myself up the inside of the rider in front in attempt to get a small quantity of cover. I was riding on a piece of tarmac half a foot wide at 50kmh and if the rider in front moved in on me at all I would go right into the gutter and most certainly come down, but I had to take the risk if I was to make it through and it paid off.
As we suddenly entered a wooded section the winds died, and with it the pace. It happened so quick I don’t really know what caused it, but the large peloton of riders in front of me seemed to lock the brakes. Maybe it was due to fatigue and slow reaction times but all I could feel was my bike sliding helplessly toward them. At this stage I had both feet unclipped from the pedals and cleats dug into the ground in a final attempt to come to a halt, and just as I expected to go clean up the ass of the guy I front I was struck from the side by riders in the same situation.
Forced onto the grass verge I found a soft landing. I slowly found my way to my feet immediately noticing my new Specialized Muira sunglasses had fallen off my face, I quickly glance around but in the rush of team mechanics running with wheels they were no where to be found... someone had obviously swiped them in the commotion. I wasted no time remounting my bike and joining the other riders as we chased back on through the cavalcade (the cavalcade is the string of team cars that follow a bike race, they provide riders cover and aid as they have problems during the event)
Riding mere millimetres from the rear bumper of my team car I was fearless as we made massive ground on the bunch ahead. That was until I witnessed a rider 2 cars in front, who doing the same thing went clear through the back windscreen as his team car hit the brakes to avoid an obstacle and with his bike being unable to slow in time he went straight in. The scene obviously shocked me, as I was unable to bring myself close behind my team car any more.
The weather was now insane with it raining cats and dogs and winds blowing me recklessly over and back across the road. It was Vital I made it back to the pelaton immediately as looming in the distance was nothing other than the Muur of Gerrardsbergen, the decisive climb upon which the Tour of Flanders has been decided upon over the years, with gradients in excess of 20% and it lasting almost 1.5km. If I was not in the bunch starting the ascent my race was over. I had 2 cars to go and then I would be in the bunch but as the road steadily rose and the cadence of my pedals reduced I could feel I was fighting a losing battle… as I could offer no more, on the steepest part I came to a near halt as the shock from the crash, savage climbs, howling cross winds and horrific weather had stripped me to my bare minimum. GAME OVER!!!
I made my way to the finish totally drained, got in my Kinetica recovery shake which is all my stomach could handle and was dropped home.
Looking back on the race I am still happy enough with my performance, I gave it my all and that is what is most important, I didn’t give in when the opportunity arose, it wasn’t until my body gave in on me that I was forced to admit defeat.
With more cremmese races to come over the next few days it would be back into the strict regime of recovery and racing once again. So Stay tuned for more Blog posts over the coming days.
The prep for Het Volk was vitally important, after arriving back on Wednesday and the race being on Saturday I had 3 days to prepare. After having a quality chat with my coach Scott Mc Donald from Winning Solutions Training Company, we set in place what I would need to do in order to have myself ready such as nutrition, training, equipment prep and tactics and over the following 3 days I made sure everything was in place. Saturday came pretty quick and with so did a change in the weather, on Friday evening it had been mid 30's and sunshine but on Saturday morning the dark gloomy clouds were hanging on the horizon slowly advancing on Zottegem which was the town from where the race would depart.
As usual the team travelled to the race as a group, the riders all getting into the old death trap of a mini bus that we have nicknamed the ‘funbus’ and the backup crew driving the van that houses all our bikes equipment and etc, and the manager driving the estate follow car. We made it to Zottegem in good time, and already there were a lot of teams there getting ready and signing on. Once my bike had been prepared for me, I gave it a final check over to make sure all was set, made my way to sign on and began my warm up. At this stage the nerves were seriously kicking in as Quick step, Lotto, and other top Belgian teams rolled by me, among which was the An Post crew sporting their new national champion Matt Brammier.
I heard the Comm blowing the whistle to alert all riders to assemble for the start, so looping on the road I made my way there. I positioned myself up beside my team mates and almost instantly we rolled out. Neutralised for a mere half Km with the drop of the flag it took off like a gun.
I had to battle super hard to keep what position I had in the bunch, the tempo was insane with speeds almost constantly in excess of 50kmh. with the array of street furniture scattered all over, and the daunting racket of bikes smashing into obstacles was almost constant. Lying in the rear section of the bunch was far from the safest place to be so making a massive effort I battled my way to the front, with handlebars clashing off each other and other cyclists leaning on me in an attempt to unnerve me, I had to use all my bike control skills to advance forward.
After 20km the race was set to turn up a narrow road and climb the Volkemberg, a steep 1km climb which is followed by an extremely rough cobble section of 2km. This made having a good position upon turning the bend vital, which after all my smashing, handlebar crashing and battling for position, I had achieved. The pace up the climb was insane with a large split taking place as the riders in the bunch hit the cobble section; I dug in deep and used all my power to haul my bike over the cobbles. The lashing rain and greasy stones was bringing riders to the floor left, right and centre, but I managed to keep up in the front bunch and avoid disaster. Next we descended into Oudenarrde at speeds in excess of 90kmh, the large open main road making it possible. With wet roads and large looping bends all I could do was lean in and hope that my tyres had what takes to carry me out the other side. After Oudenarrde we once again turned up a narrow Back road only to be faced with the Eckenburg which was a 1.5km cobbled climb, which was covered in mud which tractors had dragged from the fields over the morning. This made riding central on the cobbles impossible with a few trying only to find their bikes sliding right from beneath them as their tyres span in attempt to gain grip.
This forced the main bulk of the bunch to make their way upward in the gravel and mud filled gutter which ran along the side. With the stronger riders up front still forcing the massive pace onwards, more splits were becoming evident in the strung bunch as the steep gradient and rough conditions were becoming too much for many of the riders. All I could do was hold my position as I suffered heavily and hope that the riders in front of me were able to do the same.
When we finally touched tarmac again I glanced up the road only to see groups of riders scattered all over up to 1km into the distance. There were about 20riders with me, 1 of whom was Matt Brammier and another An Post rider. They were putting large turns in at the front in attempt to regain contact with those ahead. It was at this stage I was really suffering with heavy cross winds bearing down on us and no sign of it letting up.
My morale was taking a serious blow. I was really struggling to hold the wheel in front of me and my legs were loaded with lactic and begging me to stop, but I couldn’t give in. Pressing on hard and taking serious chances I lodged myself up the inside of the rider in front in attempt to get a small quantity of cover. I was riding on a piece of tarmac half a foot wide at 50kmh and if the rider in front moved in on me at all I would go right into the gutter and most certainly come down, but I had to take the risk if I was to make it through and it paid off.
As we suddenly entered a wooded section the winds died, and with it the pace. It happened so quick I don’t really know what caused it, but the large peloton of riders in front of me seemed to lock the brakes. Maybe it was due to fatigue and slow reaction times but all I could feel was my bike sliding helplessly toward them. At this stage I had both feet unclipped from the pedals and cleats dug into the ground in a final attempt to come to a halt, and just as I expected to go clean up the ass of the guy I front I was struck from the side by riders in the same situation.
Forced onto the grass verge I found a soft landing. I slowly found my way to my feet immediately noticing my new Specialized Muira sunglasses had fallen off my face, I quickly glance around but in the rush of team mechanics running with wheels they were no where to be found... someone had obviously swiped them in the commotion. I wasted no time remounting my bike and joining the other riders as we chased back on through the cavalcade (the cavalcade is the string of team cars that follow a bike race, they provide riders cover and aid as they have problems during the event)
Riding mere millimetres from the rear bumper of my team car I was fearless as we made massive ground on the bunch ahead. That was until I witnessed a rider 2 cars in front, who doing the same thing went clear through the back windscreen as his team car hit the brakes to avoid an obstacle and with his bike being unable to slow in time he went straight in. The scene obviously shocked me, as I was unable to bring myself close behind my team car any more.
The weather was now insane with it raining cats and dogs and winds blowing me recklessly over and back across the road. It was Vital I made it back to the pelaton immediately as looming in the distance was nothing other than the Muur of Gerrardsbergen, the decisive climb upon which the Tour of Flanders has been decided upon over the years, with gradients in excess of 20% and it lasting almost 1.5km. If I was not in the bunch starting the ascent my race was over. I had 2 cars to go and then I would be in the bunch but as the road steadily rose and the cadence of my pedals reduced I could feel I was fighting a losing battle… as I could offer no more, on the steepest part I came to a near halt as the shock from the crash, savage climbs, howling cross winds and horrific weather had stripped me to my bare minimum. GAME OVER!!!
I made my way to the finish totally drained, got in my Kinetica recovery shake which is all my stomach could handle and was dropped home.
Looking back on the race I am still happy enough with my performance, I gave it my all and that is what is most important, I didn’t give in when the opportunity arose, it wasn’t until my body gave in on me that I was forced to admit defeat.
With more cremmese races to come over the next few days it would be back into the strict regime of recovery and racing once again. So Stay tuned for more Blog posts over the coming days.
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