Follow the velo thick road

Dinah Washington certainly knew what she was talking about when she sang 'What a Difference a Day Makes' but even she would have struggled with 24 'little hours' on the blustery Bugatti circuit suffered by the SBR Team at the weekend.

Tension was high the day before the start as the bleary-eyed cyclists gathered in London's St Pancras station to catch the Eurostar to Le Mans via Paris. Most had set their alarm early that day (mine was 4.15am) and travelled with their bikes to meet the van that would transport the bikes.

Sleep deprivation was to become the norm. Tears were shed ( Andrew and Mark) as the beloved bikes were loaded and left while the riders let the train take the strain. An enjoyable journey was followed by a visit to the famous circuit for registration, freebie cans of Red Bull and a recce. The return to dinner was delayed by the lack of taxis, despite Kristin's valliant efforts to flag down a driving instructor, one ( yes, just the one taxi) was found to ferry us all back to the hotel. Incredibly the team went to the bar before dinner where a few beers eased the tension as strategies were decided on, developed then dismissed and discarded.

How little we knew about what would be in store. Wine accompanied dinner as the race chatter continued. Although the race didn't start until 3 the team had an earlyish start to get to the course and set up the bikes and stock ( Thanks Matt and Kristin) the pit area. Immediately it was clear that there was a breeze blowing. The next few hours saw tension rise once again as the team familarised itself with the Bugatti stadium and realised what was in store. The sight of so many professional-looking (and large) teams also made us think. An elusive race briefing left the team none the wiser but it soon dawned that the start would be at 2.15 not bang on 3 to allow time for a warm up lap and renditions of national anthems from around the world. Much jolity was had by the three solo riders, Paul, Andrew and I, as we saluted, sang and encouraged our French solo counterparts to have a bit of fun. At 3.00pm the gun sounded and the riders ran across the track ' le Mans' style. The solo squad set off easily resisting the temptation to chase down any groups. The first few laps were quite easy and keeping the target of 25kph wasn't a problem. As the race went on we eased into apace just about the level planned, this wasn't too bad but did encourage the odd turn of speed. On the descents Andrew and Paul would chase down a group or two and wait to be caught. I may even have had a blast or two myself. Not a good idea in a 24 hour race. It wasn't long before the headwind at the back end of the circuit began to take its toll. The laps took on a pattern of: climb the hill, enjoy the descent and the hairpins then, find a wheel to hang on to and shelter from the muscle sapping wind. All too often that wheel tuned out to be ours as riders in teams of 4,6 and 8 happily enjoyed our slipstream while getting shirty if we decided to enjoy theirs. The chosen strategy of 2 hour on, half hour off began to falter in the late evening as the wind peaked at around 35kph and the mind games began. Morale hit rock bottom around 1am and the group decided that if we were going to finish the strategy would have to become more flexible. Time targets were swapped for mile marks as we headed out onto the track with a distance in mind rather than for two hour stints. Not only would a two hour stint have been crippling in that wind but (for different reasons), we all wanted to use the toilets.The pit area became our world as the night dragged on and new foodstuffs tried. Each stop gave us the opportinity to drink copious amounts of Red Bull, eat chocolate, energy bars, peanuts, bread and stretch out. Andrew overdid the energy gels a tad, hence the frequent toilet stops.

As the night wore on each of the team of four riders made an appearance and to their credit they provided us with all the support they could. Some protected us from the wind and others just cheered us up, either way seeing them out on the course provided a much needed morale boost. As the morning dawned and the bodies warmed up the 300km marker was passed but by this time the goal was simply to keep going and finish. There was little energy for bravado about big distances that could be covered let alone how fast. The sun was up and the wind wasn't dropping and niether were we! Unoffcially I would say our race finished around 2pm. We had pulled in to have the midday meal and with the race finishing at 3 the last few laps were more of a thank you to our growing band of fans around the route. The pace dropped and the realisation that we had made it sunk in. Unlike most of the riders we weren't taking things too seriously which went down badly with the other riders but seemed to endear us to sections of the crowd. One group of supporters who had adopted us the previous evening and returned the following morning to pick up where they left off even rustled up a Union Jack to wave at us as we went by as I gradually exhausted my repertoire of French phrases to shout as we went past. As the bell sounded for the last lap I decided to have a final blast and link up with a fast group ir exersions and take the cheers of the crowd. All in all a great day. How will we follow that?