10 down, 10 to go.

A few years ago I decided that doing 20 Flings in a row would be a fun goal to set. At about 10am yesterday I decided I was done, 10 was enough. But I’m pleased to say that by 11:15am I was back on track looking forward to Fling number 11.

So far I’ve managed to improve my result a bit each year. At 47 I’m becoming one of the older Masters, so I was conscious that this year I’d have to step up the training to get anywhere near the top 10. With male masters accounting for over 40% of the half fling field, the mid-life crisis brigade is by far the biggest category. Add to that all those “young 40 year olds” moving up into our group, and the trend for full flingers to drop back to the half, I knew it would be very competitive and tough to get close to my 12th place last year. I knew I had to work hard in the leadup and be prepared to hurt myself on the day…

The start was pretty manic as usual – lots of gritted teeth and adrenaline-fuelled sprinters right from the gun. I positioned myself in about 50th place in the first wave in an attempt to stay out of trouble but not get left behind. And I decided to try to hold that position, no matter what the pace. I stuck with my plan, went as hard as possible and spent most of the first stage giving it everything I had on every climb, no holding back. I was gradually improving my position, suffering a bit but doing OK. I knew the course had changed but wasn’t quite prepared for the amount of new climbs. But with each new hill I thought: “That’s OK, I’ve trained for this. Keep pushing.” It was hard, but everyone around me was clearly suffering too.

I got to transition in what seemed like no time at all but the Garmin showed 1:12. I rode straight through and immediately felt a few twinges - my quads were already threatening to cramp. I knew this could spell trouble but decided to just drop back a gear, increase the cadence and spin it out. And that was how I spent the rest of the race – paying for my early efforts and trying to find the right balance between speed and cadence, and to minimise the cramps. Pretty much every muscle in both legs cramped at some stage. But I refused to stop – just kept spinning it out and trying not to focus on the pain. There were of course times I was cramp-free, and those times felt like bliss. Despite the suffering I managed to ride everything, and never felt like I’d slowed down too much. Interestingly I felt better on the hills (like roller coaster) and singletrack – it was the big gear firetrails and paddocks that caused me the most trouble as I struggled to avoid getting dropped. So I need to add more of that stuff to my training plan.

I also rode a lot of this stage with Bailey (@ Beetle) who set a perfect pace for me and helped me out greatly – he is an excellent rider to follow through the tech sections, and makes great line choices. I really enjoyed the singletrack riding with you Bailey, thanks for your help!

At your call we went right (no way I was risking a major cramp going left), then for the final couple of KMs Bailey and I worked together and crossed the line within a couple of seconds of each other… same as last year!

Our times were about 4 mins slower than last year, but the winner was 12 mins slower, so I’m going to go out on a limb and say we improved by a few minutes.

I would say that’s as hard as I’ve ever gone in a race. I felt absolutely smashed on the finish line, but happy that I’d given it everything I had and left nothing out there.

So that’s 10 down, 10 to go. I was considering stepping up to the full from next year, but after reading the race reports I think that’s very unlikely. Full respect to those of you who competed the 117 km distance… you guys are amazing.