Part III: Take me down to the Paradise Village

My first race in Brittany was Kreizh Breizh Elites, or KBE. It is a massive race weighing in at UCI 2.2, with 200 odd starters and some of the best up-and-coming riders in the world weighing in on the startline.

After getting soaked throughout the rás, I was blessed with a sun-kissed KBE. I was in great nick for it, and a part of me says I should’ve done better. I had the best legs I had all season. I just wish I got to France earlier so I would’ve been able to adapt to their way of racing sooner, which would’ve made me more competitive in the biggest stage race in Brittany.

I did a criterium the day after the last stage of KBE and came 4^th, underlining my form. Three riders from the same team got up the road and I was the idiot stuck in no man’s land, who had to chase them for 90 minutes.

A week after, I got my first win in France.

Similar to Ireland, French racing destinations are ghost towns, with a start banner planted in them for the day. The regional cycling community flocks to said location, as well as a charged up commentator, and a bittersweet symphony unfolds.

The race was in Melrand. I had driven the team van to the race, and I was wheezing the whole way there. My lungs were not in good shape. I have asthma, but it seems to be like a premiership football referee: inconsistent. Some days I wake up and have the lungs of an elephant, and on others I wake up and have the lungs of the mouse that the elephant is scared of.

Today was a mouse day. I rolled up to the start, chilled out because I didn’t really see much of an outcome in the race. The circuit was about 7 or 8k. It was lumpy, typical of the Breton countryside, with a 5 minute climb about 4k before the finish. With a moderate ascent, came a moderate descent, and a few dodgy corners which were welcomed with open brake callipers.

Halfway through, I was in the break with about 20 other guys. I haven’t the foggiest how I got into such a great situation, as I sounded and felt like a pig after a marathon.

I was squealing for air, on my hands and knees (still keeping the pig comparison going), and completely red (or some would say pink) in the face.

But I made it to two laps to go. We were approaching the now, bastard, of a climb, so I thought I would just mill up it. I did, and no froggy French climbers, built like a crisp packet, were able to attack. Mission accomplished.

I thought, ‘If this stays together for the last lap I have a chance of getting up in the sprint.’

Two kilometres before the climb, everyone was looking at each other. They were playing cat-and-mouse a whole 6k before the finish. My lungs may have felt like bubble wrap after all the bubbles had been burst, but my legs felt okay.

I was thinking about an attack. Teammate Foley was in the break too, so if I was caught, I’d just blame him for not winning the race. Love/Hate.

I launched one and didn’t look back. I never look back until a good minute of ‘chin on the tank’ effort. This is where the struggling in early season became a benefit. My legs were jet engines, and it didn’t matter about my lungs. I could suffer through it all. I wanted to win this and at the time, I was in the best position to carry out what I wanted -off the front with 5k to go.

I reached the foot of the climb and had a Jeffrey Juke over my shoulder. The break had split to shreds and two Frenchies were allez-ing towards my tail. I absolutely buried myself up the climb. I thought I was going to die at the top, which lead me to carry out a descent where I was not worried about dying, the speed I was going.

There was a tight right hander at the bottom of the descent, and brakes would’ve been a pathetic way to concede the bend. I went through it flat to the mat sideways, didn't have enough of a run off, had to go onto the grass verge between the tarmac and the ditch, but got round it.

Phew.

I won the race without any other competitor in sight. If you said I was going to achieve that the morning before the race, I probably would’ve greeted your claim with a phlegm-filled, chesty cough.