The season finale: The monkey on who's back?

2 Butts' HQ
Well, that's the season over.

It's been a bit quiet on here, of late, but we'll get to that later.

The date was the 10th of October and it was the final time that the team would get together, officially, this year. Josh and I were racing solo 24 and were greatly looking forward to it.

Relentless 24 was on!!

This was Josh' first ever solo attempt and I must admit to being worried about him, and what would happen to his future, if it went wrong for him. He's slain a lot of demons this year. I knew he could do it, physically, but worried if he had had too many changes in his life this year for him to prepare properly for the mental torture that only a solo 24 can deliver.

We needn't have worried.

I, on the other hand, had a bit of a mare for a short while. It became apparent that the team weren't worried about my ability to finish and I'm glad about the fact that they had faith in me.

The venue was the Nevis Range Complex at the foot of Aonach Mor, and the World Cup Doonhill and XC tracks. There is some proper lumpy and gnarly stuff there, and it looks great. It's just a pity that we couldn't play on it.

Next time...

No Fuss Events had organised Relentless24 amongst their other classics like 10 Under The Ben, 10 More at Moray, and the ridiculous Ben Nevis Triathlon. My mrs wants to do that one, but I've banned her from it until her tendons catch up with her sports specific muscle gains from the increased running she's doing these days.

So, Jo, Rich, Rob, Tim (Josh' Dad), Zoe, Doug (from Nevis Cycles) and I pitched up and got everything ready. Clive couldn't come due to prior arrangements, but he was in my head, shouting at me. I must ask him to stop.

The team, except Clive

Josh and I lined up at the front of the start and got ready for the onslaught to follow. We were counted down, very very slowly, by Frazer and eventually got into our 300m run to the bikes. We both had a good start, and got away without being held up anywhere.

The weather (from solo memory- so not the most dependable, by a long chalk) was sort of non-descript for the first few hours. It was chilly with a blank grey sky and a little bit of wind. It would have been nice if it had stayed like that but that doesn't happen in the UK, especially when you are halfway up one of it's biggest hills. I always remember the Grey Corries seemingly being the first to drop into good winter condition and the ice tools coming out there first.

After a few hours it started to get windy and rainy and the temperature seemed to drop like a stone. Then it got dark, colder, and windier for the rest of the night, with the addition of quite a bit of rain and some sleet thrown in for good measure. It was horrible, but that didn't matter as it was the same for everybody.

Sheesh! It got cold and really quite muddy. I ran a crossmark front and a monorail rear which both behaved superbly and are my new favourite combo.

The race itself was incredibly well natured and run. Everybody was there for a good time and everyone was really polite. Most folk were Scottish, so what did you expect?

8hrs in (again from failing memory) and my stomach backed up.This is the point where my metabolism usually kicks in and I settle in for the long race. But I'm not used to this gastric distress anymore, as my nutrition hasn't been a problem for a good while. There is a good reason for it, which I tried to force my way past and which meant I shouldn't really be racing, but never mind. I had demons and back hugging monkeys to slay due to SITS this year. Nothing was going to stop me.

My pace slowed a bit but I kept going like a brave little soldier: My mum used to say that to me.

In hindsight, I had planned to lap at 1hr (or so) after a fast first lap to get out of the way of the crowds. I went a good bit quicker than that, and suffered the consequences later.

At one point in the race, I came in feeling resigned to the fact that I was going to slow down even further. Rob came around, and was all understanding about my plight. He's been there a hundred times himself. He said to me, "Just walk it, mate. You'll still be doing 4 miles and hour or so".

He wound me up, and he knew it. He knows what he's doing.

"Stuff that!" I thought. "I'll ride my bike, that's why I'm here."

So I silently stood up whilst finishing my cuppasoup, which was helping my tummy a bit, and walked up the first climb. At the top, I got on and stayed on. My lap times stayed a little slower but a slow lap is better than no lap.

The feeling you get when you know you've overcome something quite so deeply sabotaging, as the misery when things are going wrong in a solo, is one of complete satisfaction allied to a certain relaxation. All the stressors, intrinsic to your present plight, seem to evaporate and leave you feeling stronger.

That was a bit of a mouthful: it's empowering, that's all!

This is what we aim for as 24hr riders- apart from the win, of course. I was a lucky boy, really!

Me looking sexy after the race. Hmm?

I was also lucky to have Jo and the team waiting each time I popped around. They cheered me up as I wasn't very well.

The guys thought that I only had to do one lap more so I set off and was quite quickly caught by Josh (ex-wash) who I couldn't catch, obviously. So he finished the lap with me, until we got to a lone figure stood in mud at the bottom of the windy and open downhill. It was Rob, and he shouted out, "You have to do another lap, sorry, Dave Powell is catching up."

Dammit.

So I stood up and peddled a bit harder. I forgot my discomfort and just kept going as quickly as I could. It wasn't very quick though. My 21st lap was finished with me wretching and coughing my empty guts up, but I managed to smile for the camera!!

I smiled shortly after the finish, honest


Josh won the senior solo and I was second. It's one of my worst performances but has more plusses to be gained from experiencing my mental strength at it's most potent (and most needed). I'm quite happy.

Josh still had the energy to act like a monkey!

I'm still not sure that I should have been there, though.

That is real pain etched on my face. Rob MADE me bend my legs!

There may have been monkeys on the podium background, but there were none on my back.

Thanks for following this year. It's time to start the preparation for next years' BIG ride: once my doctor starts talking to me again.