Enjoyment of the Race

The 5 senses

I was fluctuating between total calm anticipation and that physical impulse for a nervous toilet stop. Everywhere around me were confident cyclists wearing helmets, lycra and coloured tags. Most of the green tags were disappearing. I was green. The commentator kept announcing new numbers and the colour they belonged to. Not my colour, not my number. The chatter merged into one continuous sound and then she appeared... Nicky, running strong and upright. I cheered her on and smiled at the echoing support from my colleagues to the left. 

Quickly, I carried the bike forward and rammed my left leg up against the gates. I called Nicky's name and she ran towards me. In a brief panic, she transferred the electronic bracelet to my ankle. I would find out later that Nicky attached my leg to the metal post at first and that my hairy ankle had almost made her vomit!

With urgency, I ran my bike towards the marshals and got on my seat as soon as I could. My legs eased into the rotations as I breathed in the sea air. Faint smells of barbecue dissipated into the distance. My bike cut through the bumpy road, propelled by those racing wheels Stephen had added and my newly discovered enjoyment of the race. I was free. Completely alive in the moment.

The Parkvale crew. Where's Nicky?