Arriving at Swadini Resort I was exhausted and I hoped from here things would get easier. We booked in and met up with Janine and Goldy. We were sharing a house with them in the resort and many times during the week the fact that we were sharing with them was my saving grace. I know Goldy reasonably well due to the fact that we have travelled together during the last four years as part of the SA team. Goldy and I are also the two trikes in the team so we often speak about the different courses and so on. Janine is Goldy’s mom and also the Western Cape paracycling commissionaire so we have worked well together and are friends. Janine had booked our accommodation as soon as the venue was confirmed last year and I was very grateful that we could share with them.
When we were settled in our house, Janine and I returned to reception to register Goldy and I as competitors and get all our goodies. It is nice to return each year as a paracyclist. Usually the para-cyclists as a group are such a small group that the officials know us and it makes registration a breeze. At registration I was also able to make arrangements for a motorbike to follow me during the race as I didn’t have Anet cycling behind me at this championship. Once we had done what we needed to at registration, I was very grateful to Janine for taking me for a drive along the race route because she could tell me what Goldy learnt from his training ride that morning. Goldy also has problems with his balance (although not as bad as me) and rides a trike, so the tips that Janine could give me were invaluable because I had not had time to ride the route. I was really happy that due to the fact that the road wasn’t a through road there would be a lot less traffic on the road than we usually have during Nationals. Traffic during SA’s is always a thorn in my side because with my coordination it is always very difficult for me to do my best to qualify for the SA team when I have trucks and cars passing me during the race.
Once we arrived back at home Janine and I took our event booklets and a pen and went to sit down and get a plan of action together. Once racing began certain roads and routes to the start/finish would be closed so we had to not only see when we would be racing but also when there was a gap in the racing to get to certain areas we needed to be at. The rest of the afternoon and evening was used to prepare for the next morning. I remember at one point in the evening my aunt tried to tell me to go to bed and I told her I wish I could because I was tired but our stuff wasn’t ready for the morning. My race bag wasn’t packed, my towels weren’t in the freezer, water wasn’t in the fridge, numbers still had to be pinned to my top and only then could I go to bed. It was times like that when I really missed Anet who took care of all of that for me.
Another time I missed Anet was before my race in the morning. Having traveled with me to a lot of races, she knows my routine. Even though we got to the parking lot near the start line with more than enough time to spare somehow once we started to get ready we were fighting the clock to get to the line on time. I had to show my aunt how to put my front wheel on, my gloves on, and what to take to the line and what to bring to the line when I finished. Suddenly marshals were calling me to the line and I just had to go. I arrived on the line with a few minutes to spare and I tried to hide in any shade I could. I was on the line with no detailed plan on how to approach the race because I had not ridden the route. It was already after 10am in the morning and the heat was already intense.
Almost immediately after the start I realized how unsmooth/rough the road surface was as Goldy had told me the night before. It was about 1km into the race going down my first hill, when I was still getting used to the different road surfaces, other riders who started after me where still catching and passing me, and I was still trying to wrap my mind around the heat, that I started to hear a weird noise in the area of my left back wheel. I knew this was an unfamiliar sound and my trike usually didn’t sound like that but with a new road surface I just hoped that it was related to the road. After that downhill I went up the next hill (the route was either up or down, there were very few flats) and the sound disappeared and I hoped it was nothing. What goes up must go down and this time I wasn’t only slowing down because of the strange sound, but I was doing something that you never do during a time trial, I stopped!
Now for those not as familiar with racing, the Time Trial is known as the race of truth because you race a certain distance and you try to do it in the quickest time possible. Thus stopping during a TT is a definite no-no, but I wanted to know what was happening with my trike because I was feeling unsafe not knowing what was wrong. Having my feet fastened to my bike and being unable to get off I could only touch my wheel but other than that there was nothing I could do to figure things out. The official on the motorbike came up behind me and I tried to tell him, above the noise of the motorbike, that there was something wrong with my bike on the left side at the back. He encouraged me to continue and said he would watch my bike. Having gone slower down two down hills and having stopped once I really wanted to start picking up speed. This was the race that could dictate in which direction my year was going to go. I was mindful that I had a bad Western Cape Champs so I couldn’t ask selectors to look at that race result, even if I could convince them to. I also didn’t know if the people of SASCOC were going to look at this result when choosing the people to be on the long list for the Paralympics. Apart from the qualification aspects, the heat on the road was increasing and I wanted to get back as soon as I could. I am very determined but sometimes determination can only get you so far.
After one or two more stops I knew my race was over. I was leaking time that just couldn’t be pulled back no matter how fit or prepared for this one race I was. By this time we had figured out that my wheel was coming lose. The marshal with me had asked me a few kilometres ago to get off the trike so he could really tackle the wheel but after I had explained to him that I couldn’t get off without help, he just resorted to push the wheel back on every few kilometres or whenever needed. I felt slightly embarrassed passing spectators so long after all the other riders because they didn’t know why I was so far behind.
By the time I got to the 7.5km turnaround point I was on cruise control and not daring to go fast. I was cycling just to get back to the finish and praying that I would not hit the tar before then. Slowly but surely all the competitors who had to race a longer distance than I due to their classification passed me once again. I got about 2 or 3 kilometres from the finish when on one of our pit stops the other commissionaire’s came across us. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Ricky’s face. Ricky knew me from other races, including from a few international races, and he is also one of the national selectors. Having him see me on the side of the road filled me with relief that at least one selector had seen the situation in person. (Our paracycling director wasn’t at this competition because he was saving his leave for our overseas trips.) Ricky was able to get me off the trike and I went to sit on a rock at the side of the road. By now it was almost midday and I just wanted out of the heat. Another commissioner gave me a bottle of cold water to drink because by now the water in my bottle was almost ready for a tea bag. They threw another bottle over me to cool me off. It soon became apparent that we needed tools, so they sent another commissioner back to the start to fetch tools. Sitting on the side of the road I felt strangely calm. It confused me. Here I was in the biggest qualification race of my life and I was literally sitting and watching others finish who I knew I could and should beat to the line. Perhaps my calmness was knowing that this wasn’t any fault of mine or perhaps it was the heat.
While the marshal was gone a vital discovery was made. My back wheel was loose because the bolt that kept the wheel on was not loose but totally gone!! The mystery as to when that bolt disappeared has never been solved. Did it come loose in the first 1km or did the shop never put it in? Eventually it was decided that with the bolt missing there was nothing that could be done and I should just get back on and we would just stop when we needed to push the wheel on. At this stage I was done. I asked Ricky if I couldn’t just get in the car and we would get the other vehicle to fetch the bike. I was hot and for me the race was over so I just wanted to get home. Unfortunately for me Ricky said no. He wanted me to get to the line on my own so that I could receive my medal. At that stage the medal meant nothing to me. I had come here to race, to do a great time and set my year up and I had already lost that but I listened to Ricky, got on my bike and crawled to the finish with about one or two more stops. I think I finished with two motorbikes and Ricky’s car accompanying me!
Arriving at the finish I don’t know who was more relieved, my aunt or I. By this time she knew something was wrong because my 45/55minutes had elapsed into 1h20. Strangely after talking to her she said there was no announcement made for tools at the finish. After our medal ceremony I decided to get into an really cold ice bath fully clothed, just took my shoes and socks off, before we started to fix my bike for the road race.
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