Kingdom of Heaven

After a week of tanning and training, it's pretty safe to say that every racer in Ireland was looking forward to the end of the week when they could extensively pin on their numbers, break out their 50mm tubular race wheels and allow others to inflict pain on them, like a bad training partner. This weekends race took place in Tralee in the Kingdom of Kerry. Taking full advantage of our new team car, we left for Kerry at 8 o'clock. The chat was plentiful in the Laguna with our DS for the day Gerry Hawkins at the wheel, and once we mastered the strangely confusing radio in the Renault, he turned into a reincarnated version of Gerry Ryan. The chat was mainly, unfortunately, about drugs in sport that has our sport in a choke hold by the media, made worse only by the news of Tyson Gay's doping news. Strangely, the sun did not break the seal of the clouds and the temperature scale hovered around the 17 degree mark. Usually this would be considered quite toasty for Ireland but after the past week's weather, we've all become greedy. Although warm, it was breezy and overcast so arm-warmers were my choice, unlike almost everyone else in the race. The three combined packs rolled out of the Manor West Hotel car park at 11:45 to ride the 7km to the start line. The roll-out was much faster than the roll-outs we were used to after a week in the Junior Tour. In the Junior Tour we would roll out at 10 -12 miles per hour, in Tralee we were four abreast at 20 miles per hour. You could tell that it had been a hot week, as every single overly-hydrated rider took a cheeky toilet break before the start. The Cat. 1 race started at 12:15, with two Czech Republic bound junior riders taking part as final preparation, Junior Tour star Dunbar, and fresh from injury Danny Bruton. 

Our race started in quick succession after a small mix-up with lead car. A new race with a new course was always going to have a downside for the first lap, the racing was slow as no-one knew the hill and was confident about burning the candle too early. We rolled up the hill the first time and barring one or two small attacks it was very controlled. the wind was over our left shoulder so naturally the bunch hugged the ditches to try and gain an aerodynamic advantage over their rivals. The bunch remained very controlled and steady for the remainder of the lap. The second time up the hill was much more heated as riders now knew the full lap and knew how to ride to their strengths. Once again nothing stuck on the hill but it did put a bit of a sting in the pack's legs. Once we took our second left after the hill, we were into the wind. An Usher guy attacked out of the bend, I moved over to get into the slipstream and before I knew it we had a gap, I rolled through and gave him a turn and we were soon joined by Gary MacDonald of VisitNenagh DMG, Cathal O'Donovan of Blarney CC and fellow provincial team-mate Stephen Shanahan riding for Limerick CC. The Usher instigator was blown out the back and we established a 20 second gap before you could say 'doping'. Our little quartet rode well together, all doing equal turns. I was happy with the group, especially because O'Donovan was a sizeable chap, like yours truly, and I could get a nice draft in behind him. As the break rolled through I knew if we could get to the bottom of the climb in front of the bunch then it would be the four of us that would fight for the spoils. We did, and the next lap around, with 3 to go, we had a 1:30 advantage over the bunch.It was with 2 laps to go that I decided to start the charge,as our advantage over the bunch was big, but if we started attacking each other instead of riding, and the bunch started riding instead of attacking each other it would have been curtains. As we swung left at the first roundabout heading back to the start line, I launched my first attack up the drag, in an effort to hurt others' legs. I hoped that they'd chase me because I did not want to be on my own for another 2 laps, all I wanted to do was sap their legs. They all responded bar one, and then there were three of us. I dropped my second hurting bomb 1km from the top of the climb, we were still all together. Our advantage over the bunch was still at 1:45. 

The hardest part of the course was, in my opinion anyway, the rough back-road into the wind, so what better place to attack? If you're hurting, imagine what they're feeling. Stephen Shanahan was looking strong, and was itching to respond to all my attacks. I needed to kill his legs if I was to have a chance in the sprint against him. I was sitting third in line, upped my gearing and attacked. Like a hawk he turned around, I eased up when I got alongside him, and then went again. Once again we went back to doing our turns, the wind had picked up over the last few laps too. I positioned myself in second wheel going into the second last roundabout, sat on until O'Donovan had done a considerable turn on the drag and then attacked him. Shanahan responded strongly and held my wheel up over the top. I sat up and soft-tapped on the front all the way into the last roundabout. We now had just over 2km to go. I banked the bike right over into the tight left-hand roundabout and then flicked off right and eased off the gas. My two breakaway compatriots sat in my wheel. Shanahan came up alongside me, I braked and dropped back onto his wheel, third wheel, pole position for the sprint. We were now almost track standing on the road. If this was a Tour stage, it would have been pretty exciting to watch. We rolled up the hill, staying on top of our gears but never for a moment doing more than we needed. If the cranks were made of glass we wouldn't have broken them. At this stage I was settled into leaving the race decide itself in a 3-man sprint. I was still in pole position and now getting my mentality right to win a sprint, a first for me. "Come on Seán, you're gonna win this. You ARE gonna win this. You're like the Juggernaut, once you go, no-one is gonna stop you, no-one is gonna get in your way." I tried to get into a Cavendish-like mentality. I was feeling confident. With 500m to go Shanahan was keeping a sharp eye on me. The beauty of using Sram groupsets is that you can pull the shifter back to make it easier to up your gearing in a gallop to the checkered flag. Another use for this, I realised, is that you can pull back the shifter and then release it, as the shifter whacks off the brake lever it makes a noise akin to changing gear. *THWACK*THWACK*. This worked a treat and put the cat among the pigeons. It panicked the others with Shanahan flicking his head around every 3 seconds, expecting an imminent attack. O'Donovan opened it up, Shanahan responded with 200m to go and then I kicked hard around him. It wasn't until 50m to go that I realised it was mine, and it was the greatest feeling in the world. It was as though all the hours labour in the winter, and all the time I've had my ass handed to me and came in from training with a vile hatred of stairs were all worthwhile. What made it all the more sweeter was that after a putrid first half of the season, I finally hit some smooth form. 

Here's a nice shot of our breakaway trio

As it stands now, there is a whole new world of possibilities for the rest of the season. Sitting in the front seat of the car on the way home, one of the many benefits to being tall is you get a great seat in the car, I looked back at the race, and looked ahead to the next. I'd be lying if I said I'm not looking to repeat the success.

Here's hoping,

Seán.