Saturday morning came and so did the rain (OK, drizzle at this point). Everyone was gathered at the start line for a rolling start behind motorbikes and a traditional bag pipe send off. The first lap was slightly shorter, utilising a long fireroad climb to the highest point of the course instead of heading into the first singletrack climb on the lap.
The clock struck the hour and we are moving. Super twitchy at the start here with a lot of super energetic, overly keen 24hr racers sprinting for position and banging bars still with 23 hours and 55 minutes to go. As we climbed it started to settle, and the bar bashers slowly went backwards and I moved up to just ride at my own comfortable pace. By the end of the lap I was on the wheel of 8x World Champion Jason English, which I decided wasn't a bad wheel to follow?
The first 8 hours seemed pretty warm. It was drizzling, but a solid 15 degrees, and just a summer jersey and knee warmers were pretty much perfect. The course was beautifully hard. Dirty climbs that were hard to clean without pushing into the higher heart rate zones, and rough descents that took their toll on hands and arms as you hammered down. I started to dabble with some warmer jerseys as the night set in, but was quickly finding myself too warm on the climbs or too cold on the descents but didn't appear to be much of a problem. I was sitting perfectly to plan in 8th position or so, and feeling comfortable come the mid point of the race as the weather started to deteriorate.
I started to feel slightly funny around then first loosing my head slightly, then my vision. I started to make silly mistakes on descents and my legs weren't feeling like they should. I came round into the pits around 1:30am and my crew stoked me up and pushed me back out there. I was slowing, but still moving and not really loosing that much time. But my legs and head where getting worse, and the heat was draining out of my rain soaked body as it hit a cool 4 degrees. The wind on the top of the course was like riding into treacle and soon whipped away body heat built up on the climb.
I've never really had any huge issues in 24hr races up until this point. Sure, the dark moments come deep into the race as usual, but this was something different. The familiar voice of my buddy Peter Nadin came billowing from over my shoulder like a pissed off drill sergeant. After battling his own demons earlier in the race, he had decided that I was not going to suffer a similar fate. "Get the F*#k on my wheel" he shouted as he came by. I did as I was told.....
As we entered the pits together he explained "Lets not piss around in the pits yeah? Quick turn around and get going". But I couldn't. My legs wouldn't turn, I was cold and blurry eyed; my body was shutting down. I slumped in a chair and stared at my mum and dad who were looking back at me with probably equally blank expressions, and a few moments later I heard Pete leave the pit next door. At the time I was thinking "This is it. That's a years work all gone down the pan" and shut my eyes. Ten or fifteen minutes passed, I could still hear the bustle of the pits around me in my ears, but my body wouldn't move. I opened up my eyes and sat quietly for a while longer with my crew looking at me still quietly with the race slipping away from me slowly. I started to take in as much fluids, hot coffee and warm fluids as I could manage. Chucked a fresh set of kit on, and got my bike and lights sorted. In what felt like a few minutes, I had lost over an hour and a half stationary in my pit, dropping from 7th overall, into 13th place.
Feeling better for a full kit change I clambered back on my bike at what must have been around 3 or 4am. Goal change time now: "lets try and salvage a top ten yeah?" I said to my crew and off I went into the still biblical rain. It was apparent on the first climb on that lap that the legs I had come into the pits with some two hours prior were not the same legs on board now. My cross country legs had appeared and I was moving. Properly moving. The guys around me in the standings were lapping in the 1:10 - 1:20 range, and I chucked out 55 minute laps three times in a row, even to the bewilderment of my mum, when I surprised her in the pits nearly 10 minutes earlier than expected.
The trails were soggy but only a few sections were muddy, and they were still riding great. I was able to focus enough on the descents again to really wind her up and let the bike have it. This is the time in the night during a 24hr race I love, when my head gets into the right zone. It was just a shame it didn't show up 2 hours previous!
The sun was up around 8am leaving a 4hr dash to the line. I was sitting pretty now, making my way through the field and chirpily speaking to wry faces I recognised. I managed to catch Pete up again, overtaking him and one other on a fast section. I'd love to say what I said when I passed, but its too cheesy for me to put down....
10am came and as the rain came down (Still) I was up to 5th, exactly where I wanted to be. Could this really be happening? The pit crew were keeping me on my toes though, a late charge from Matt Jones was on the cards and he wasnt a million miles back. Keeping the pressure on I snuck an extra lap in and came down the mountain a final time to finish gone mid day to a rather brutal looking Nevis Range car park, and some rather relieved looking family and friends.
I came to Fort William expecting a brutal race, and hoping for a top 5 finish. Both of which happened and I'm stoked! Yes I'm slightly gutted things went wrong, but its these moments that define us, and pulling through the dark times make the sweet times even sweeter. One thing is for sure, less than three weeks after the race, I'm hungrier than ever and already planning 2019....
I am truly thankful to my huge list of sponsors who make this all possible. The excellent bikes from Specialized UK, great kit from Fabric Cycling and general support from Hot Pursuit Cycles and Bike Glove Store. The build up to this one was massive and having two identical Specialized S-Works Epics was a 24hr racers dream!
Craig Bowles at Big Heart Coaching for putting me in the best shape possible leading into this race. Im so thankful to call him my coach and friend.
I'm also truly blessed to have been able to share this experience with my entire family, including my Mum, Dad and also Sister, Brother-in-law and Niece and Nephew who had never been to a race of this size before. They all took turns in the pits pushing me back out, keeping moral high and generally giving up their time to stand on a cold, wet Scottish mountain side in October for me and my sport. A truly heartfelt thanks.
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