12 hours in hell

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BY: simon ernest

Published: 9th May, 2011

In the weeks running up to the European 12 hour championships my form up had a few ups and downs, but on the whole I was looking forward to the race, of course with some degree of trepidation.  People had asked how my endurance training had been going. How long had my training rides been?  Most were shocked when I replied 10 hours per week, total...

What were my hopes for the race? I would be lying if I had said I did not hope to win, of course I did: I train to race, I race to win.  I cannot believe that an elite level rider would not say the same.  I did want to win, at the very least get on the podium and win the 'rookie' jersey.  My preparation went well: my Giant Anthem had received slight modifications (Middleburn Duo instead of Middleburn Uno), my nutrition strategy was documented and given to the pitt support crew (a super supportive Rachel Fenton), what could go wrong?!  My road trip companion Jason Humphries (Norwood Paragon) was also a rookie, but in the 24hour race: his hopes were to survive and gain valuable experience for the future (Mountain Mayhem and beyond). Driving to the venue the weather forecast looked temperamental; it was going to rain at some point but having ridden some of the trails in the past I knew they would hold up well. 

We arrived in good time and started a practice lap.  Within 2km we hit trouble as Jason punctured on what seemed like a grassy field: better get the mechanicals out of the way now eh?  The course contained no great challenges, at least not when the body and mind were fresh. The practice lap was completed without further mishap and the remainder of Friday was spent "chillin to the Beastie Boys (cheers Jase).  A good night's sleep and it was race day: final preparations were made, a big breakfast and before we knew it we were at the start line waiting with five minutes to go.  At 12noon the suffer-fest began with a gentle cruise through the super supportive local village Newcastleton (the whole village turned out and have really gotten behind the event which further enhanced the atmosphere).   As the neutral support vehicle pulled aside the racing began and I settled into my rhythm with Matt Page and Josh Ibbotson for company.  My troubles started after 4km: heading into a fast right hander my front wheel washed out sending me crashing to the floor, Matt was left with nowhere to go except into me and as it transpired (and unknown at the time) his chain ring caught and cu the side wall of my front tyre.  I tried in vain to repair the puncture with foam, CO2 and two inner tubes with all failing.  Within 20minutes I could see my whole race disappearing...then enter Chris Pedder to my rescue.  I had a strange sense of de ja vu as Chris calmly took charge and repaired my wheel and sent me on my way as he stayed to tidy up the mess.  However within 500m my tyre was flat again, Chris repaired it once again and again the wheel would not stay inflated.  Chris again stopped but I pushed him onwards as I began the 8km run to the tech support area.  One hour and 30 minutes later I crossed the line to complete my first lap, I stopped immediately at my tech support area to replace my front wheel, replace my derailleur hanger which had also been damaged in the crash and rinse off my knee was which bleeding heavily.

My second lap began and once again I was forced to stop to realign my front disc calliper which was dragging on the disc of my spare wheel. After this things did actually settle down and I was able to try and rebuild my race.  Over the next 9 hours I started to cut my way through the 12 hour field, egged on my legions of supporters, most people I had never met before, fuelled on a mixture of High 5 gels, carb drunk and flat coke.  Eventually my body had to pay for the exertions and damage it had sustained: after 10 hours it said no more, my knee was swollen and still bleeding, my concentration wavering...my body was broken.  I had made it to within 4minutes of second position before I pulled out and was left watching other riders pass me by, I was left with 8^th position.

To say I was gutted is an understatement.  I revisit the race and wonder if I could have held on for one more lap, but I know there was nothing left...the what ifs? The chaos of my first lap, the pain from my knee, a spare undamaged bike, a clean bike each lap?  Some can be answered with better preparation; some will remain an unknown...

After one hell of a weekend I have to thank all who supported me: I cannot articulate how much it helped from the first lap the last.  My sponsor's awcycles.co.uk, Exposure for bring me light, USE, Middleburn and High 5.  Pitt b#tch extraordinaire Rachel Fenton (supporting three riders from under one umbrella), and my pregnant wife for giving me the belief that I could complete such a crazy race! 

Now, what am I doing this time next year...?