"What is the point in this?"
I said it. Covering a distance of about 23 miles in 26 degree heat, at first I was happy but then it slowly turned my mood fouler and fouler.
The start was a sure sign of things to come, a "technical" dismount occurred and after that a great big hill which killed my chest and required me to stop and hold up Tim and Chris. But once I'd had a shot of my inhaler, which, I don't think actually worked we were on our way again in the baking heat and an occasional cool breeze.
The first few miles didn't really seem that technical, even some of the black optional routes. It was just long, flowy and very dusty. However, on these long flowy sections, I found it very difficult to keep my speed up and keep up with the others. This frustrated me a little and in my frustration and lack of concentration my foot slipped off my pedal and it landed right in the middle of my shin. Now accompanied with a bleeding gash or two in my leg, I decided to follow the guys down a gnarly rock garden, after which my brother tells me, "the world cup girls don't even do that, they cut down the side!" I was happy but I barely clung onto my bike as it buffeted me round like a raging bull.
After a while, the more technical downhills started to appear. I was tired and I wanted to enjoy them but simply could not push myself to ride as fast as my brother or Tim. There were also very tight downhill berms which lead to a lot of skidding around and praying that I wouldn't top out over the edge.
The home straight was gruelling, my stomach growling for food, my empty bladder a sign that this was too much. We eventually made it back to the centre. The last run down was a relief as my parent's van appeared in the gravel car park.
The first few miles didn't really seem that technical, even some of the black optional routes. It was just long, flowy and very dusty. However, on these long flowy sections, I found it very difficult to keep my speed up and keep up with the others. This frustrated me a little and in my frustration and lack of concentration my foot slipped off my pedal and it landed right in the middle of my shin. Now accompanied with a bleeding gash or two in my leg, I decided to follow the guys down a gnarly rock garden, after which my brother tells me, "the world cup girls don't even do that, they cut down the side!" I was happy but I barely clung onto my bike as it buffeted me round like a raging bull.
After a while, the more technical downhills started to appear. I was tired and I wanted to enjoy them but simply could not push myself to ride as fast as my brother or Tim. There were also very tight downhill berms which lead to a lot of skidding around and praying that I wouldn't top out over the edge.
The home straight was gruelling, my stomach growling for food, my empty bladder a sign that this was too much. We eventually made it back to the centre. The last run down was a relief as my parent's van appeared in the gravel car park.
Although a challenge this was, it's something I know is doable with more riding in and around Cumbria. This will become comfortable.
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