I left home at 7am this morning to take part in the Southern Counties Sporting 25 full of optimism after an enjoyable ride in the 10 miler the day before. Took the time trial bike and decided to try out my Corima 4 spoke front wheel for the first time. The course is a double loop on the A24 and A29 with a little tail to finish. Rode about 6 miles for a warm up then got ready for the off.
Scooted along the first stretch of lane in pretty good order then turned onto the A24 and into a stiff headwind. It took an age to battle down the road. As I rode, my mind drifted very uncomfortably. I kept trying to clear my head but all manner of dark thoughts came creeping in. I turned onto the A29 and figured with the wind at my back I’d start to go better. No such luck. Come on, you can do it, just focus. Nope. I don’t wanna (that’s not actually what I thought, I’ll keep that to myself). Dominic and his boys gave me a shout along the road (I didn’t realise it was them until later) and I struggled, really struggled on for a few more miles. AT about the 9 mile mark I had completely unravelled mentally and I just pulled over. I felt awful letting myself down like this but I knew I just couldn’t carry on. I tootled back to the HQ, got some counselling over a cup of tea and then buggered off quick sharp before my team mates got back. I wasn’t in the mood for talking, making excuses, anything.
What a shocking contrast this race was compared to the day before. Hugely disappointing, and worrying.