I have been wanting to see a real bike race from up close since for ever and ever; so when the opportunity presented itself in the form of an invite from Naveen John, of the Specialized Kynkyny Cycling Team, to participate in the Nandi Epic 100K, I thought I might as well turn up for the party. To be perfectly honest, I had some fairly strong misgivings about actually PARTICIPATING in the race, having ridden some distance with the SKCT (super)men on Airport road only a couple of weeks ago, and doing a Nandi 2X seemed to be a more inviting prospect than trying to keep up with the peloton. I have very realistic views about my capabilities as a rider- I am no racer by a long shot, the only thing I can do is not fall off the saddle after a multiple-hundred on the bike. But some lengthy councils of war on Ghost Riders had me fully charged with adrenaline and it was with some excitement that I clipped in on Sunday.
We started from campus a little later than I would have liked, but I had had the opportunity to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep- a rare treat with the ongoing schedule- and felt fresh and confident as we hit Airport road. Vijay had missed out because of a blocked throat- I rather thought he sounded like a gramophone record playing in slow motion- and Rishav was supposed to meet us at a spot around 17 km from campus. We missed the rendezvous by several minutes, and I knew as the distinctive shape of Rishav's helmet bobbed into view that with still around 15 km to go, we would make it to the start point by the skin of our teeth, if at all. Still acclimatising to my new Zaffiros- the transition from the old Pro Slick tyres has not been pleasant- and felt the frustration start to bubble as I punched it to keep up with my mates. At this rate, I was sure I would be dropped from the peloton before even five kilometers had passed. Anyway, I am a brevet rider through and through, and I was not going to let the opportunity to practise for the Master BRM next Saturday slip through my fingers. The weather was perfect for riding- clear blue skies with scattered white clouds and a gentle breeze now and then.The roads were beautifully dry with good traction. Corners would not be too tricky. Even if I dropped out of the bunch early, I most certainly was going to enjoy today. I felt the excitement mount as we crossed the toll plazas near the airport and noted with a grimace that it was already time for flag-off. We would not have much time to get organised.
Sure enough, I saw the riders kick off immediately as we drew up to the start point, and realised that there was no time to stop and recover. I saw NJ pull away on his gray Tarmac and Sourav start to punch it out of the saddle as the peloton started rolling at speeds I would not have believed possible unless I had seen them with my own eyes. Phani was nowhere to be seen. Underestimating the speeds at which the racers would start was the mistake that cost me the chance to ride with them even for a short distance. I started sprinting out of the saddle as soon as I realised what was going to happen, and watched with a feeling close to utter helplessness as the racers drew away slowly but inexorably. By the time I had reached the Nandi crossing, the peloton was a distant shadow on the horizon and within two more minutes, they had vanished out of sight Heart pounding and feeling slightly crestfallen, I settled back into the saddle and dropped into a steady pace I could maintain all day. I was not here to win, so I might as well enjoy the views. The slower riders were spread over a long distance behind the peloton and were mostly riding alone, a mistake, in my opinion, because the gentle breeze I had been feeling on the way to the start point had by that time swollen into something resembling a solid but invisible wall, with abrupt changes in direction that made me struggle to keep my front wheel steady. The sleep of previous night had helped, and I enjoyed the fight against the wind to get ahead of the stragglers, keeping an eye out for someone I could share the work with. Sadly nobody seemed willing to ride in a paceline! I had a guy on a red Bianchi tailing me for several kilometers through some huge climbs and descents, but he seemed reluctant to return the favour. I exchanged a few words with a guy on a touring bike and started tailing a man on a Suncross. Apparently he was from Kerala and was finding the rolling terrain and the strong headwinds hard to cope with.He dropped out behind me after a while. The day was bright and sunny, and the views were stunning, several small mountains looming in the distance on the left side amid lush greenery. We would have been able to cover more kilometers in a much shorter time if not for the headwinds. Although there was not much fatigue, I had to eat every 20 kilometers and keep taking a gulp of water every 10 to keep going at the same pace. However, I could feel myself becoming dehydrated at an alarming rate, and fantasies of a good, solid breakfast kept nagging at the back of my mind. I just wanted to finish the route and be done with it. The peloton charging past like a herd of bull elephants 5 kilometers before the U-turn did nothing to cheer me up, but the prospects of the climbs I was going to face just after cornering at the U-turn soon drove everything else from my mind. The climbs were not too much of a trouble, but by this time I was down to my last banana and 100 ml of water, which were soon gone. The winds were not helpful. A particularly strong gust of crosswinds almost drove me into another rider, momentarily giving me the unreal sensation of cornering while going straight. It was as if the wheels were going to be knocked out from under me. I suppressed a chuckle as an image of Sourav flying on the winds swam to the front of my mind, and kept hammering on.
3 hours from the start, absolutely famished ( I do not have enough fat to burn in emergencies now!) and dehydrated, I rolled through the Nandi crossing, hopeful that I would be able to pick up the pace now that the Nandi hills might block the winds. I waved at a couple of riders as I passed them, rose out of the saddle, and AAAARGH!! A sharp, searing pain shot through my left leg like a flash of lightning. The quadriceps had cramped. I pressed on, but soon the calf of the same leg had started to scream in protest. I most definitely could not climb Nandi like this. Stopping at the base of the climb seemed like a good idea, and I decided to do just that. I met Rishav at the base after sometime ( For reasons I could not fathom, he had decided to descend just before the final kilometer.) and hung around till the prize distributions. Phani had climbed to the top with cramps on both legs and seemed unable to walk (Bad position of the cleats? ). That really put my suffering on perspective. Maybe I ought to take the HTFU rule more seriously. Anyway, plenty of chances to work on that in the coming Master BRM. Can't wait!
Although I did not finish the race route, I thoroughly enjoyed the views on the Hyderabad highway and experienced some tough riding conditions. The headwinds and crosswinds, especially, combined with the impossibly rolling contours of the route, made it all worth it. I do wish I were a stronger rider, though.
Sure enough, I saw the riders kick off immediately as we drew up to the start point, and realised that there was no time to stop and recover. I saw NJ pull away on his gray Tarmac and Sourav start to punch it out of the saddle as the peloton started rolling at speeds I would not have believed possible unless I had seen them with my own eyes. Phani was nowhere to be seen. Underestimating the speeds at which the racers would start was the mistake that cost me the chance to ride with them even for a short distance. I started sprinting out of the saddle as soon as I realised what was going to happen, and watched with a feeling close to utter helplessness as the racers drew away slowly but inexorably. By the time I had reached the Nandi crossing, the peloton was a distant shadow on the horizon and within two more minutes, they had vanished out of sight Heart pounding and feeling slightly crestfallen, I settled back into the saddle and dropped into a steady pace I could maintain all day. I was not here to win, so I might as well enjoy the views. The slower riders were spread over a long distance behind the peloton and were mostly riding alone, a mistake, in my opinion, because the gentle breeze I had been feeling on the way to the start point had by that time swollen into something resembling a solid but invisible wall, with abrupt changes in direction that made me struggle to keep my front wheel steady. The sleep of previous night had helped, and I enjoyed the fight against the wind to get ahead of the stragglers, keeping an eye out for someone I could share the work with. Sadly nobody seemed willing to ride in a paceline! I had a guy on a red Bianchi tailing me for several kilometers through some huge climbs and descents, but he seemed reluctant to return the favour. I exchanged a few words with a guy on a touring bike and started tailing a man on a Suncross. Apparently he was from Kerala and was finding the rolling terrain and the strong headwinds hard to cope with.He dropped out behind me after a while. The day was bright and sunny, and the views were stunning, several small mountains looming in the distance on the left side amid lush greenery. We would have been able to cover more kilometers in a much shorter time if not for the headwinds. Although there was not much fatigue, I had to eat every 20 kilometers and keep taking a gulp of water every 10 to keep going at the same pace. However, I could feel myself becoming dehydrated at an alarming rate, and fantasies of a good, solid breakfast kept nagging at the back of my mind. I just wanted to finish the route and be done with it. The peloton charging past like a herd of bull elephants 5 kilometers before the U-turn did nothing to cheer me up, but the prospects of the climbs I was going to face just after cornering at the U-turn soon drove everything else from my mind. The climbs were not too much of a trouble, but by this time I was down to my last banana and 100 ml of water, which were soon gone. The winds were not helpful. A particularly strong gust of crosswinds almost drove me into another rider, momentarily giving me the unreal sensation of cornering while going straight. It was as if the wheels were going to be knocked out from under me. I suppressed a chuckle as an image of Sourav flying on the winds swam to the front of my mind, and kept hammering on.
3 hours from the start, absolutely famished ( I do not have enough fat to burn in emergencies now!) and dehydrated, I rolled through the Nandi crossing, hopeful that I would be able to pick up the pace now that the Nandi hills might block the winds. I waved at a couple of riders as I passed them, rose out of the saddle, and AAAARGH!! A sharp, searing pain shot through my left leg like a flash of lightning. The quadriceps had cramped. I pressed on, but soon the calf of the same leg had started to scream in protest. I most definitely could not climb Nandi like this. Stopping at the base of the climb seemed like a good idea, and I decided to do just that. I met Rishav at the base after sometime ( For reasons I could not fathom, he had decided to descend just before the final kilometer.) and hung around till the prize distributions. Phani had climbed to the top with cramps on both legs and seemed unable to walk (Bad position of the cleats? ). That really put my suffering on perspective. Maybe I ought to take the HTFU rule more seriously. Anyway, plenty of chances to work on that in the coming Master BRM. Can't wait!
Although I did not finish the race route, I thoroughly enjoyed the views on the Hyderabad highway and experienced some tough riding conditions. The headwinds and crosswinds, especially, combined with the impossibly rolling contours of the route, made it all worth it. I do wish I were a stronger rider, though.
