Oh, eurghh. Thursday drove home. Friday workied on some desings at home,did 1 hour steady ride in the evening. In the cold.
Off to race 1st stage on Saturday afternoon. Over a hilly course, 3 laps and it was fast ! The bunch was whittled down to about 20/30, sat on taking it easy.
Back home. Had to swop cogs over, the nice shiny new expensive TA ones were jumping.
Up early , did'nt sleep well last night. Off to the race, gave Pete Varian a lift. 1st big lap, felt bad. It was so cold & I was dying fr a pee. At end of 2nd small lap I punctured ! Shit. Got new wheel from service van, he helped me by giving me the wrong wheel. Anyway got it on, he started slipstreaming me. Dropped me up the hills so called me alongside and told me to hold on, scary at 45 mph ! Caught the cars following and moved my way up to the bunch just at the bottom of Gt. Witley hill, attacks went, jumped up stil feeling shagged after my chase, the race split, and I was now at the back. Down to Stamford Bridge at almost 50 mph ! quite near leaders, then they attacked. Up Stanford bank, god my gears were t big for this. My group began going backwards, my legs were shot. Got together with a small group & we worked. Down & onto last lap, suffered up Gt. Witley, down to Stamford Bridge, along & up t finish & I won sprint. Home. Icy at home. If my stupid wife is pissed off at my racing 3 days in a row thats tough shit.