The waiting game

It's a sunny winter Saturday afternoon. My bike is being cleaned, parts checked, tyres swapped all ready for tomorrow. The same can't be said for me, my brain whirs and nerves are on edge. Tomorrow I race.

It's unusual for me to have these feelings, "why stress when you can't effect the results now?" I ask myself. "The result doesn't matter" I say, but I know I'm lying, every race counts.

GMBC has run a great series this winter, each time something different, keeping things interesting on those cold dark days, it all culminates tomorrow – the handicap.

I know the rider behind me, I know the rider in front. Jim will have a head start, I'll have to bury myself to catch him, and while I think I know his weakness, he has definitely seen mine. Nothing to do but wait, I hate waiting.