TCRno4s136: The Start, Apidura bags are go!

TCRno4s136: The Start, Apidura bags are go! 

 

The square was buzzing with cyclist clad Apidura bags; a mix of sizes, shapes, ages, both Apiduras and cyclists. As a newbie to the world of ultra-endurance cycling it was nice to see the diversity of people taking on this challenge. Already, from interactions on the journey to Geraardsbergen, the registration, briefing and final supper it was clear this was a random bunch of friendly people drawn together by a single combined factor, the desire to ride across Europe, alone as fast as possible. This was probably more reassuring for Mum, who had travelled with me from London, armed with homemade flapjack, most of M&S’s picnic section and a pretty extensive first aid kit. Post ride I was to find out that she had spent the hours after the send-off in a pub with a fellow TCR rider’s spouse and that accompanying me had indeed helped.

My hours preceding the race were spent with some slightly hectic last min prep, meeting other riders, a final feast, some more slightly more frantic last minute prep, rushed good byes and of course attempts to capture the event on film. I was lucky to spend the final supper with fellow Chevs rider Z, and the soon to be (relatively speaking) female race winner Emily Chapell. Emily and mum swapped flapjack for a book, so mums flapjack evidently is the fuel of champions.

At some time after dark the Mayor’s bell was rung, signalling the start of the race.  We set off across the square, past the flame bearing supporters; I concentrated on navigating the cobbles and crowds as a tactic to avoid crying at the start, it was all a bit overwhelming, in a good way, an emotional overload. The starting lap of the muur was sociable, easy pedalling, chatting to other riders a few of whom I had interacted with via twitter pre-race, twitter profiles are people too. The climb was a little hairy; I was glad to be at the back as it was narrow, bumpy, crowded and lined with flaming torches, with a few wobbles and the agility of a mountain ox I made it up; alive and smiling.

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Within minutes of the Muur descent, after pausing for the obligatory map check stop on the corner, I set off. For about 10 minutes I was in a bunch of cyclists, then my Garmin, prof Calculus, directed me to take a left turn and  I was solo, one girl and her bike taking on the world, well kind of.

 

 

 

 

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