Glentress 7

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BY: Katie Carmichael

Published: 25th May, 2014

Saturday 24 May, and Glentress 7 marked the start of Tweedlove, a two week bike festival in the Tweed valley. A seven hour race for solos, pairs and trios, the event takes in some of GT’s well known routes, a few lesser known trails, the odd bit of track ridden in reverse, and some cracking descents, freshly cut for the race.

After three weeks off the bike with a throat infection, I was in two minds about taking part. I got out for a few rides last week, and decided that I would give it a go. The plan was to treat it as a training ride with a race feel. Easier said than done!

When the lead out car pulled off I was keen to maintain a decent position on the initial climb so that I wouldn’t get clogged up in traffic on the descent. Though I could feel that I was below par, I managed to put in a good initial climb, and felt relaxed on the descent, just enjoying it and getting some flow rather than letting myself get hassled by those around me. The hard work paid off and I was first female through transition.

On lap two I tried to settle. My heart rate had been sky high and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to last the distance if I didn’t rein it in. With the first part of the lap being a climb, and with the race buzz it was a challenge to settle into it. It took me till the beginning of lap 3 to really feel like I was going at a pace I could sustain.

By the beginning of lap 5 I was feeling pretty positive. I was over the hump, and would have another 3 laps to do after this one at most. Things were good. I’d already ridden more than I’d imagined I would earlier in the week, everything was flowing nicely, nothing was hurting too much, and no solo women had passed me. I started to let myself think that I might be on for a win.

Then it all changed. Blasting down magic mushroom, I suddenly found myself crashing to the ground. I don’t know what happened. All I can think is that I either overcooked it on a corner and lost grip, or went for a dab on the front brake at an inopportune moment (it has been known!). Although this is a trail I’ve ridden hundreds of times and know well, it’s not the first time I’ve done myself in on it. Last year, just three weeks before the Breck Epic, and on my second last weekend of long training rides, I decided to check out a new line on the exit of the trail. I misjudged my handlebar width and sent myself flying into a wooden fence post. I skelped my knee and had to have it stitched up. I was laid up till I got to Colorado. I took the last of the stitches out the night before the race started.

All these thoughts were going through my mind as I picked myself up to inspected my bloodied knee through my ripped leg warmers. I could see a couple of flaps of skin. I feared the worst.

I decided to cut the lap short and head in to get it checked out. After all, this was only meant to be a training ride. By the time I’d got to the first aiders’ tent, I was beginning to wonder whether I might have overreacted. My knee was pretty ripped up, but there was nothing too deep. After a good clean and a dressing, there was nothing for it but to head back out and try to make up some of the time I’d lost. All in it had been about 35 minutes since I’d last been through transition.

I got the fifth lap done but had no idea where I was sitting. With no leader board for results, and nobody shouting positions at transition, it was impossible to know where I was or what I had to do to either consolidate or improve my standing. I can’t say that had much of a bearing on how things went. I think that it was tiredness setting in that really changed how my day was going. My riding went completely downhill from there. I was mistiming everything – step ups which had not been an issue in the previous laps suddenly became a bit of a challenge. I lost any flow I’d had on the descents. I slowed to a near standstill on any technical sections, making them ten times harder than they had been or needed to be. The wheels were falling off.

When I came in at the end of lap six the announcer said I was in second place. I headed out for my last lap with the sole intention of keeping it clean, and getting back in one piece. I managed the second aim, but catapulted myself over my handlebars fairly early on.

I shouldn’t be disappointed – this time last week it was doubtful that I was going to be able to take part, and with 47 miles and nearly 2400 metres of climbing, it was a solid training ride. Still, I can’t help being annoyed with myself for not completing my lap before getting my knee patched up. With another race in two weeks and a trip to the Alps in three, I guess it was better to be safe than sorry.


The upside of hurting your knee - getting someone else to wash your bike for you



The downside - not the prettiest pins