It was a smallish course so we did 6 laps I think, I lost count. I knew from the outset we had to ride fast to annoy the faster riders who expected us to go slow, so I pretty much controlled most of the race, sitting on or near the front, directing the motion of the group.
On each lap there was a nice climb, not terribly long but when you do it over and over it takes it out of you. I made sure that at the corner before the climb I was near the front of the group, then stormed up the hill in my usual attacking manner. By the last lap it was feeling tough, and a Boston Wheelers rider decided to attack. This is when it becomes apparent that a brain is definitely neccessary for road racing: I had to make a split second decision whether to fall back and conserve my energy for the final sprint or to use up some power now to get at the front. I decided to put down the power, then I sat on the other rider's wheel around the top corner and up to the 200 metre to go sign, when I leaped out into my powerful sprint to the line.
The guy who won I think was a slow group rider who was actually faster than he should have been, but coming second just seconds after him didn't make my performance any the less impressive.
My legs burnt incredibly during and just after the sprint, so me and Joe (who broke out of the peloton to steal third just after me), span out the lactic acid then headed back to find the parents. I rode up to my Dad and basically fell on him as I couldn't really stand at that point.
After recovering on the ride down back to the race HQ, we hung around for a few minutes, handed in our numbers - I was 38 - and headed off home.
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