Learning to Race — 2014 Summary

I had raced a bike before 2014. Me and friends from the RLSCC did three races in August 2013. In my first race, I was late and had to watch. In my second race, I cramped up and rode half the race alone. By the third race, I could stay in a Cat 3 group and be comfortable enough to wonder…

“How the hell do you win one of these things?”

It all seemed a bit Catch 22. If you attack off the front you get hauled in within about 10 seconds, if you break away at all. How can one guy beat a group of 50 without a draft? It’s simple cycling logic. Competing in the sprint feels like you’re going to crash into the 5 idiots around you and die. That’s if you can even be close enough to the front of the pack for your sprint to matter.

It seemed hopeless, but the same 5 guys fight it out for the top spots. What do they know that we don’t? Are they just faster — end of story?

Half feeling like I should do better and half wondering how to do it, we came to the end of the season and there were no more races to learn from. Stepping into the unknown — I looked towards next season and aimed to get some racing experience under my belt, move up to Cat 3 and maybe even win a race (if I could figure out how.)

Winter Training

No area of my season shows my lack of clarity and motivation towards this goal than my Winter training. From October to April I strung together two good months of work. I even dabbled with a coach but it wasn’t meant to be. I really hadn’t got a handle on what I was trying to achieve and how other than seeing if I ha what it takes to be a 3rd Cat when the time comes to race.

So my winter training really boils down to this idea — If you’re doing something hard and you can’t see what you’re getting out of it, don’t know if what you’re doing is enough work, or understand what you’re even working towards then you just find excuses to stop. And I found them.

In January my training bike had a series of pretty minor faults but it was enough of an excuse to stop doing any work on the bike for close to 2 months. Suffice to say, training was a washout and lacked any drive until May.

Start of the Season

My racing season didn’t start until the first Victoria Park Criterium in Leamington Spa town centre at the end of April. It’s a race I didn’t even compete in because I had done so little cycling but I went to support my club. There were some crashes and some pretty stale racing but watching that is exactly what I needed; seeing my friends doing what I wanted to do reminded me what I was missing out on.

That day I got home and registered for the second round of Victoria Park Races 4th Cat two weeks later on the 12th April. I managed to string together 4 rides in those two weeks as some sort of training and turned up on the start line for the first of two races on the circuit.

Not really knowing what was going on and excited to be racing with friends the race whistle blew, cleats clicked and gears whirred as the race started.

The only thing I can remember is how moderate the pace was, managing to break away for 5 laps and then falling back to the group when I couldn’t extend the gap beyond 20 seconds and lost hope. I dropped back into the group and I managed 10th place and s single BC point n the sprint.

In the second race, I did what everyone else did. I stayed in the group then halfway through the race I sat in the top 10 people, taking some wind, but keeping a high position on a tight track where moving up is difficult.

Approaching the finish line I was behind a single guy — I blasted out of the group as hard as I could and crossed the line first — only to realise there was still a lap to go. I tried to ride it out but the pace was too high and the gap was too short. I dropped back into 11th place by the time the real finishing sprint came feeling a little stupid.

The first lesson learned — always know how many laps are left and listen out for a bell to signal the final lap. Simple stuff but apparently I’m pretty simple myself. Got a few laughs from the club mates at least.

Despite loving the racing, I decided I deserved a rest month and ditched doing any training until May 3rd and the University of Birmingham Cat 4 Crit (Strava Flyby).

Setting the scene — the course here was twisty, undulating and tight. The key turns were high speed and reverse-banked but not overly technical. Passing people and moving up the group was really tough due to the tightness of the track and good lines going up the group turning into bad lines as the direction of the turns shifted quickly.

During the race I kept good position after dropping lots of places with a bad start. I found myself run-off the course a few times as riders shifted around mid-turn — losing position and wasting energy. I tried an attack halfway through and stayed away for two laps, only to get hauled in and hung out to dry at the rear of the pack as the race finished in a bunch sprint.

At this stage, I was pretty disappointed in how the racing was going. It all seemed to hinge around sitting in, taking it easy, then getting good positioning in the sprints. I wasn’t learning anything new either so I was still trying the same ineffective tactics and not really getting anywhere. In my frustration at a bad race, I registered for another race in Loughborough 2 days later.

Now, the Loughborough Cat 4 Crit (Strava Flyby; YouTube) is a real pig of a race , especially on that day. The 250m climb @ 4% had a headwind on the day and turned into a selective crosswind at the top followed by descent with six 90 degree bends and unavoidable speed bumps — essentially, if you lose touch on the climb then you are busting a gut and taking risks just to reconnect. When warming up I saw two riders lose bottles over the speed bumps and one fly over the front of their handlebars. The potholes and manhole covers seemed pretty minor in comparison. I also had a cold (get the excuses in). This race was going to be a battle.

For a Cat 4 race, this might be the most technically difficult in the country and it seems to select riders mercilessly — It was a struggle just to hold wheels due to the wind and technical (dangerous) descents. The fast turns were hard to get good positioning on and that hill punished anyone who didn’t hold onto the group once you hit the crosswind at the top. There were a number of individual crashes too and a group of 40 or so riders ended in a final selection of 8 on the last lap.

On the last lap, I just hoped it stuck together and I could compete in the sprint. One guy came off over a speed bump located on a turn at the bottom of the hill. Then 3 riders attacked on the uphill and broke away. The day hurt but in hindsight I had the legs to stay with them and should have pushed hard on that last hill to keep up, stay with them on the descent and contest the sprint. Mentally, I didn’t think and I kidded myself thinking that they would blow up afterwards… on a descent. I ended up rolling in for 6th place happy for points with some lessons learned.

Epiphany

While I didn’t get many points — reflecting on these opening races revealed key learning points on how to race. I found three biggies that I already identified but took some pain and losing to really learn them:

• Sitting on the back takes more energy than working to keep in the top 20%. Staying in the top 20% gives you more options to attack, defend or let things go. It gives you agency over a race.
• If the course is hard then staying in the group and keeping safe are good tactics, but they won’t win you the race.
• Thoughtless attacks cost energy and ruin your chances of winning in other ways. Attack when it’s most likely to work and in ways that make people not want to chase you.

These points could make you race negativity — conserve as much as possible, only make moves if you have to or when you really feel it can work; however, I learned two key points from the winner of the Loughborough Crit and the weaknesses of my own psychology and moved me from a poor racing mindset into a winning one:

• You’ve got to make the moves that increase your chance of winning.

If you can win the sprint then staying fresh and helping to bring back breaks are a good plan. If you can’t win the sprint then you need to take advantage of fear, pain, indecision and confusion to get a gap and breakaway. Consider your strengths, how racers will act in the conditions (crosswinds, rain, hills, corners) and you’ll find opportunities to make winning more likely.

At this time in my racing, this meant I personally needed to probe and push for breakaways as much as possible to get the opportunity to work hard — conserving energy be damned.

● To go on and win you have to make it physically or mentally hard.

You have to ask the question at a time when no one will respond — either because it hurts or because they don’t think they have to.

For Loughborough, this meant attacking the hill on that last lap when everyone is tired. In the future, it would mean sticking your neck out and sprinting for the finish early. In groups, it means making a proactive attack rather than waiting for the finishing sprint.

For breakaways, this means attacking when other attacks are pulled in; attacking on the hills; attacking your own soft attacks when people thought they had reeled you in; attacking when the race is young and people are lazy. No matter what I do my odds and opportunities are better when I am not just sitting in.

It isn’t enough to just be in the group, in the front 8, in the top positions in the sprint. For me, racing well is pushing at the front with a pack of wolves behind you.

First Win

So after Loughborough, I was pretty chuffed. The race was hard, it required good bike handling to survive and I bagged some real BC points for coming 6th. Basically — it gave me some confidence to swing around on the bike.

My next race was a week later at Mallory Park’s early season Thursday races that are dedicated to 4th Cat racers (Strava FlyBy). I tried to use the tactics learned from Loughborough, but the course wasn't hard enough to create a selection and no-one pushed the race. The race ended in a bunch sprint up a 200m, 7% hill — despite good positioning in the sprint I dropped from 4th to 11th — just out of the points.

I tried to use the tactics learned from Loughborough, but the course wasn’t hard enough to create a selection and no-one pushed the race. The race ended in a bunch sprint up a 200m, 7% hill — despite good positioning in the sprint I dropped from 4th to 11th — just out of the points.

It was then I realised that right now I’m not powerful enough to compete well in bunch sprints. Maybe later on in the season, maybe next year, but right now I’ve contested 3 bunch sprints with 0 points gained. I struck bunch sprints from the list of mental strategies, which leaves making moves, attacking and breaking away. At the time I had also failed to break away properly too, so the thought that you’re just too crap to win did cross my mind — but at the very least I could narrow things down and ignore sprinting for now.

I got to test the theory a week later on the 20th May — on the final Mallory Park Cat4 Crit hosted that year (Strava FlyBy; YouTube). After this, all the races I could find on the calendar were at least Cat 3/4 so things were only going to get tougher. I went to this race with a good friend of mine, Sam Taylor from the RLSCC.

The race started at a low pace. Everyone felt tentative and scared to make a strong move. Without much pressure, a group of 5 broke off the front and made a 20-second gap. At this stage, I got the feeling that the peloton was too lazy to chase well and that group was too big to be slow. I was positioned well in the top 20% so I could attack and try to bridge to the breakaway.

I closed the first 10 seconds quickly but found myself in no man’s land for 4 laps. On the last of those laps, I felt like I was going to miss the train — the legs were filling with lactate and my head was wondering if it was possible. I was maybe 4 rider lengths away for a whole lap before I eventually tacked on the back of the group after a downhill and, exhausted, started doing turns.

By this point, the gap between the breakaway and the main group was 40 seconds and growing. Someone in this group was going to win. I also learned later that Sam tried to bridge the gap with me but went back to the group. After the race, he told me that no-one in the peloton wanted to chase at all. The lesson here is that the peloton might be big but it’s only fast when it’s organised, which happens less than you think.

Back to the race, the gap grew to 2–3mins as we approached the final lap. My tactics for the last lap were based around not being able to sprint confidently. To win I had to ask the question and try a flyer — attacking far enough away that it’s not quite a sprint finish but more of a short and sharp solo breakaway that people are not expecting or don’t think will stick.

I jumped with around half a lap to go and no one jumped with me to bridge the gap. Making the most of the indecision I made a 5–10-second gap but burnt a big match to do it. Lactate swelled inside my thighs and the air burnt to breathe as I turned the last corner and reached the bottom of finishing hill. By this point, I was in the saddle clawing my way up the final 200m, 7% climb at Mallory.

With 100 metres to go and I look around and there’s another rider sprinting fast — he’s going to catch me. I push on harder but with 50 left to go, he’s on my back wheel. I stay in the seat, thinking my legs will turn to jelly if I get out of the saddle. In the final 20 meters, he’s running up the side of me; I dig deep, clench my teeth and push on for a few more strokes . Wheel to wheel we both thrust over the line with no idea who took the win.

We looked at each other both happy we did well but unsure if we should be celebrating a little more than we were. Taking a lap to warm down we talked about the finish and the race. Then we passed the commissars and they showed us the photo-finish:

I had won by a tyre! That first win felt so sweet. Sam rolled around with the group to find me beaming a smile. Sam was with me when we first tried out racing at the end of 2013 and wondered what it takes actually win. Having actually done it was a bit of a shock. After realising that I also just upgraded to 3rd Cat I got an even bigger buzz. On the drive home, it became obvious what the next goal would be — get to 2nd Cat before the end of the year.

Successful Summer

From that point on the floodgates had opened. I knew that creating breakaways worked and they work better for me that sitting in the group and contesting a bunch sprint. It instantly made racing much more fun when I could commit to hard attacks mid-race knowing that it’s the right thing for me to do.

Saying that though the weeks following this were a bit of a disaster. I crashed out of a 3/4 race in Stourbridge (Strava FlyBy; YouTube (no crash footage)) pushing too hard on a hairpin to gain position on the last few laps after trying to break away, of course. I then suffered one of the most negative races I’d been in all year on a flat course at Mallory. I pushed so hard to make a breakaway I almost dropped out the back of the pack (Strava FlyBy; YouTube).

It seemed my win was a pure fluke before I hit some form in a series of 2/3/4 races. The first was the flat circuit at Mallory Park(Strava Flyby; YouTube). 1/3 of the way through the race I broke off the front, but slowly started getting drawn back into the group. With barely a 5 second gap to the group, two riders broke from the peloton to join me. We pushed on hard and quickly forged a 20-second gap.

Contrary to most breakaways we worked strongly and smoothly the instant we grouped together. I think we all knew we had no time to mess around and everyone was keen to put the effort in. We built a safe 45-second gap on the group over 15 or so laps and got pretty comfortable while still pushing hard. On the final lap, the most tired of our group led us out on the final straight leaving just two of us with a chance at the sprint — he broke left I broke right and there was a drag race for the line that I edged by a rim.

Oakley Village Road Race

Unknown to me, this was going to be the biggest race of my season. Unfortunately, I can’t find a video of the race and I didn't record it on Strava so here is someone elses ride data to give a flavour for how the race progressed(Strava Flyby). Reason being that the ladies race before us was a washout and I didn’t want to ruin my phone with water or a crash. The roads were covered in water and the sky threatened to add to it for the entire race. Conditions, as they say, were a bit shit.

Starting off I had some horrid positioning. I was late to the start line and was almost the last person in the group when we set off. By this point, I was really keen on starting at the front and letting my positioning absorb some of the early surges. Instead, I spent the first lap crawling through the group to get to the action at the front. Throughout this time there were potholes, dodgy cornering and many close calls with oncoming traffic. By the second lap, I got into a good place and could start managing my race.

A group of 5 had attacked by this point, so we were all chipping in and slowly closing the gap. By about the 3rd lap we’d reeled them in and we got to do some attacks of our own. I jumped into 3 or 4 attacks that managed to stay away for 1–2 minutes each but nothing stuck. I had burned a lot of matches doing this and didn’t get much to show for it. I sat back in the group recovering on lap 4 of 5 — sipped some energy drink and made sure to down an energy gel as the extended length of this race raised the risk of bonking.

As we approached the last 10k, lap 4/5 I was swirling around the front of the group keeping position. Attacks had been made every 5km this lap and were being chased down pretty effectively by myself and others. Another 3 people tried to break away. Then another two jumped. Then no-one responded at all. No one wanted to chase at this key moment — to tired or cracked to do it. With that laziness in the peloton and the strength of the group going up the road I felt this breakaway was going to win — I had to be in it.

I jumped, hard. One person caught my wheel but I pushed on. Looking back I had got a gap and dropped the wheel sucker. Looking ahead the gap between me and the leading group must have been 20 seconds. I saw that group and thought that there are at least 12 points there if I can bridge and nothing if I don’t. I dug deep and shot into the back of the group, restarting the stuttering chaingang they had formed. By this point we were all thinking the same thing — work hard and we will get the points today.

I’ve never felt closer the edge of cracking in a race than when I was in the group. In some races, you get dropped and in some races you just can’t stick with a big sprint but this was entirely different. Pushing hard and doing your turn when second by second your power is falling away is maddening. The lack of winter training and high-quality work outside of racing hit me hard. I just kept saying to myself “Stay with them and you get points. Stay with them and you get points.” As we entered the last 10km of the race I was falling apart. I tried to power through my turns but my legs were failing. In the end, I spent longer in the wind than anyone because I couldn’t finish turns powerfully and at one point even got a friendly push from my breakaway companions.

Turning the last 90-degree corner and hitting the last 2km of the race was a relief. We had the gap, the pace slowed down as people positioned for the sprint. In that moment I was just happy to be in the top six. I crawled my way to the front of the chaingang and realised no one was following up behind me. I was leading out the sprint. Brain dead, I went through the motions, got within 500m of the line and saw the rest of the group blow past me and rolled in 6th place for the hardest race I had ever done.

Looking back I lost my bloody mind. No matter how you feel — there’s always a dig left for a sprint and who knows how the other guys feel? They could be dead too. Giving up and sitting on the front happened because I let it happen. My brain switched off, happy with 6th and 12 points when I should have had much more clarity, ask the question, made it hard and went for the win. There was literally nothing to lose by trying and I bottled it in the moment. This is perhaps my biggest regret of the season.

Annoyed, I walked away with a cool £50, 12 points in the bag, 2nd Cat being one win away and had some home made flapjack in the town hall to celebrate. Watching the prize giving was a pretty odd affair here. Yeah, we cheered for the winners but looking around there had been some horrid injuries that day. On the flyby, you can see the back third of the peloton grind to a halt on the last lap in the crash. Someone broke their collarbone and needed a ride home. Lots of people with road rash and broken helmets being wrapped in foil blankets. Another reminder that spending the energy to stay near the front is always worth it in so many ways.

Oakley Village Road Race took a lot out of me. On the drive home, resting over the weekend and even the following week I didn’t feel right. I stuck with some very basic training rides and Warwick’s local bash. Little did I know that a hard race with some good recovery might have been just what I needed.

My Favourite Win

Win It took until mid-June for me to get back into racing. This was back at Mallory Park on their full clockwise circuit (Strava FlyBy; YouTube) — the same course where I won my first race two months back.

As always the plan for the race was to attack and it was the perfect day for it. A headwind after the downhill meant no-one pushed on and the group wasted the downhill momentum they gained every single lap. No one wanted to be on the front after that downhill and the group always slowed down here. A cross wind into the first chicane put riders in the gutter and bunched together, creating a choke point for any large groups. The tail wind afterwards helped build a gap quickly and a crosswind up the finishing hill would drain energy from everyone every lap.

On the 5th lap, I put a small dig in through the chicane and only one person followed. That was the last time I saw the group that day.

For two laps my breakaway companion from team MetalTek and I worked together, but he faded quickly leaving me to lead most of the work. Eventually, he got dropped up the hill on lap 10 of 30.

By this point, I was 30 seconds ahead of the bunch.What’s more, I could feel myself gaining time on every downhill and every chicane. The gap grew to almost 1min with 10 laps to with the group never really organising a chase.

I was cramping, wishing I had more water. Thankfully, I actually packed a gel for this race, which I didn’t always do for Mallory but will now. I started losing time when another breakaway shot from the main group. I had done enough work beforehand to keep a 30-second gap on the last lap.

I got to enjoy the last lap and rolled over the finish line for my favourite win this season. I also won around £80 in primes but we ended up giving them to people who actually had to sprint for them rather than ride around a bit.

I was really happy with my strength but the course, conditions and indecision of the group played their part. There were many people racing that day who physiologically could have won the race the same way I did. This just goes to show that sometimes the person that puts the effort into making opportunities is the one that wins. Still it makes for a cool racing story that I tell at every opportunity now.

Another Breakaway Win

A week later and we’re back at Mallory (Strava FlyBy). The course is reversed, less favourable to breakaways and at the front of the race every attack I had a target on my back due to the last win. Less than a 1/3 into the race I’d made a few moves and my legs were not feeling great. James and Chris from Leicester Forest CC had already put a gap into the group already and the feeling in the peloton was very aggressive. Sam Skerrat asked me mid-way through the race if I thought a break would work and I had given up on the idea of making a break myself.

Then, two riders managed to break off the front approaching the decisive hill in the circuit. The pace had slowed and no one was keen to chase them. Seeing the chance I jumped from my position in the middle of the peloton, pushed hard past the nose of the group and caught the attackers at the top of the hill. Pushing on I made the 15-second gap needed to really make a break for it.

Within a lap or so I caught the leading breakaway and we started working to increase the gap. Over 10 laps we extended the gap to over 1m 30s. At this stage it got quite tetchy — they were tired from running the break for most of the race and while I was worried because I had two teammates who could work against me at any moment. We talked and they said they’d let me have the win if we worked together, I didn’t quite believe them but I didn’t have a better strategy either.

We got into a good rhythm, with me specifically leading over the hilly parts of the course so the guys behind got less draft. Leading round the hairpin in the last 5 laps I heard the sound of bikes clattering and hitting the floor. Looking back I saw one of the racers had fallen on the corner and that the other had ridden into him and fell too.

At this stage, I genuinely considered stopping and slowed down. I stopped pedalling. I looked back and saw they were ok. Do I wait or do I go?

I came to my senses and stepped on the gas. 5 laps later I crossed the line first but a little unsure on how I should feel about it with my breakaway companions James and Chris taking 2nd and 3rd around 30 seconds behind. Having bagged 2 wins in 7 days I wasn’t going to complain too much and talking to the guys afterwards they said they would have done to same. Once again, being at the front saved me from a crash!

First in the League?

Rolling towards the end of the season I pulled in a number of wins on the Mallory Park Circuit and some good placings in the other races. After the last race found I was second in the league prize for the year — top prize being £100, a bike fitting, and all the glory you can hoard.

This lead to an interesting pair of races to end the Mallory Park season. The penultimate race was the clockwise flat course (Strava FlyBy; YouTube) not a great start for breakaways — and also Dinnington CC brought a big team to compete and they did a good job controlling the race. I made a few attacks that fizzled out within a lap. I don’t know if it was because of Dinnington or because we were closing in on the last few races of the season and people were desperate for points — but breaking away was a tough ask when most of the group were keen to chase.

In the end, I sat in and committed to holding a strong position in the last 5 laps and competing in the sprint. On the second to last lap, a Dinnington RC guy shot off the front for a flyer and held it for 1st place. It was 100% the right move considering the conditions now and I will probably prefer it to sitting in for the sprint going forward. I positioned well but didn’t have a big sprint in me — so I pushed on for 8th place.

As luck would have it, coming in 8th when the league leader scored none brought me within 6 points of the league leader, making the last race much more important. A win could reasonably win the league for either of us.

A week later the final race at Mallory a week later would decide the league winner (Strava FlyBy; YouTube). Kyle Abrahams was the guy to beat — probably the best sprinter up a hill I’ve raced with — and I had to beat him by a lot of places to stand a chance. As this race finished up a hill there was no chance of winning by playing it safe and trying the sprint — so again a breakaway seemed the only option.

Only this time, every time I tried to jump Kyle was on my wheel. I must have tried 5 or 6 attacks but Kyle managed to join every jump. The decisive moment came when two riders went off the front up the finishing hill for a prime. The group let them go, expecting to catch them as they rested from the prime, but the pair held on and started forging a break. The main group felt ready to ride hard but it had just gone through a real tough patch of riding — so an attack could work! I had no idea who the riders up the road were and whether a small group of 2 could hold on for a win.

Sometimes you have to take the risk. So I jumped.

I had good positioning so was off the nose of the group quickly. I looked back expecting Kyle to be on my wheel. To my surprise, he wasn’t there. I later found out he got blocked in at the crucial moment and couldn’t follow my wheel. I pushed on hard.

Sometimes you can predict or craft a win with skill and power — in this case, I just got a bit lucky. I bridged the gap to the leading two in half a lap but my legs burned and I felt weaker than they ever had in this situation. We started doing our turns, with Jack and I doing the majority of the work.

Closing in on the final laps we’d built a substantial gap but the threat of being caught was always near. Even on the last lap, we didn’t let up despite some cat and mousing. As we approached the final sprint up the finishing hill both Jack and I sat behind Phil, who agreed not to contest the sprint. As only straight road lay in front of us I asked the question and broke left and Jack broke right.

Unfortunately, the instant I jumped I knew I made a mistake. There was a crosswind and Jack had taken the side with the most shelter, giving him a good advantage. Jack was also a lot stronger on the bike that day and he stormed the sprint for his first win of the season. I rolled up slightly disappointed in 2nd. Still, 8 points were enough to ask Kyle the question: can he pull out a sprint when he needed it most?

Kyle replied with a big yes. Kyle won 3rd in the bunch sprint, placing him 6th in the race — netting him 1 point more than me to take the league.

We congratulated each other and talked about how odd the race was marking someone and being marked. It was great to have these sorts of dynamics in a race league. Quick shout out to Mallory Park Road Race League for hosting such an awesome series of races. They’re a great place to learn the game — quality course, great variation, superb organisation and friendly racers.

A few weeks later on Champions night a 1/2/3/4 handicap race was held to send off the season in style. Got to pick up a cool £200 in prize money for 2nd in the league plus an extra £10 for winning a prime on the day (maybe all is not lost for my sprinting…)

Either way, this was my last race of the season and a great way to sign off before a month of weddings, patchy training labelled as a recovery month and adding on a kilo that I really wish I hadn’t. We all have our vices and mine seems to be stuffing my face with food, which in the grand scheme of things doesn’t seem too bad.

Looking Back

I had a great first season despite some really poor pre-season training. I met my first goal of reaching 3rd Cat, won some great races and even moved up to 2nd Cat in my first season. Far beyond what I expected — I had earned 96 points in one season of racing.

I really loved the racing I did this season and I want to keep progressing into next year, which means making the step up to Cat 1. The stretch goal being to secure a professional team to ride with and live the dream.

There are some large areas for improvement for 2014/15 that I will need to work on to compete with Cat 1 racing. I need to do winter training, I need to improve my sprint and add that option, I need to carry more speed through corners and I need to weigh less. A good plan! The signs look good too. After the season ended I did my first ever FTP test on my new Wahoo Kickr — setting an estimate hour FTP of 362 watts, or 4.64 FTP/Kg (Strava)

Look forward to seeing how I do in a year. In the meantime, there’s a lot of work to do. (Spoiler: I did barely any racing or training in 2015 due to personal issues and work. Doh.) Thanks for reading!