A history about a bike race...

It can’t be more than ten kilometres to go. I’ve been in the lead group since the first singletrack after five kilometres, and my computer says we’ve covered 62 out of the 70 in the race.

I’m not exactly feeling fresh, and my left hamstring is starting to pull, even though it’s far from a full-on cramp yet. The other two guys in the lead group has got to be feeling it as well now, and I can more or less see it from their body language that they’re starting to hurt.

As we’re turning off the dirt road and onto a trail, my brain flicks off, and my instincts take over. Wham, just like that. I work my way past the other two, gear up one notch, just rev up slightly, and feel like I’m riding into a tunnel where it’s just the slightly soggy trail , the mountain ahead and myself. Instant gap.