The Spanish Adaptive Cycling Championship was held in the Andalusian city of Estepona, Málaga. Go down a few days before to explore the circuit and rest from the heavy trip. Urban circuit, with dangerous curves and no slope, horrible for my taste and characteristics, a race of starting, stopping and starting again. After recognizing the route, it seemed even more dangerous than I thought. Each lap had 3 closed 180-degree curves cut inside three roundabouts and two very dangerous 90-degree curves since the vision of the route was not clear, in addition to dirty and deformed asphalt. I had everything to be very careful.
On Saturday at 5:30 p.m. my participation in the individual time trial began. The day before the judges of the test decided to reduce the time trial from 15 km to 10 km. I don’t know if this can be done, but it was done. I have trained for a specific time trial distance and suddenly 5 km is taken away from you in one fell swoop. The approach to the time trial changes completely. The intensities must be much higher since the competition time is shorter. How can they do this? I don’t know, but it was done. Prologue format race approach rather than time trial, undoubtedly benefiting handbikers with more strength and power than me. First difficulty of the championship. If in South Africa I came from running a time trial of almost 20 km, here 10 km by last minute decree.
To add more sauce to the snails, Saturday afternoon is stormy. Very strong winds, it rains as much as the sun shines. The wind knocks over the mint bow, causing an accident and the departure is delayed 1 hour. It started to warm up with sunshine and ended up under a huge downpour.
I speak with participants who have finished the time trial and they say that the route is very dangerous, that the rain has left it impassable. If before it was dangerous, now much more so. I’m going to the exit box. I am the last one to leave my category as I am the 2015 champion. I am calm. I took off my chrono helmet and glasses to have more vision. «The water from the layout will splash in your face and cancel your vision,» I think. I start strong.
The time trial consists of entering the corners very slowly to prevent the rear wheels from spinning and starting off hard after each corner. Stop and start, trying to maintain the intensity in the safe sections. Without a doubt, it is not possible to carry a constant power. I manage to save the first lap and I plan to do the last lap at full speed but without risking. After several scares, I push as hard as I can until I cross the finish line. My time is 19:18 minutes, at 31.5 km/h. I’m not happy at all. I know that the top is going to limit my possibilities.
I finished in 4th position, 17 seconds behind the winner. Disappointment. That’s racing, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.
After the time trial I experience feelings of rage, sadness, helplessness, anger… I know I could have done much better but it wasn’t possible. I want to give my all in the online test, to get rid of the thorn in me but the circuit is dangerous and I fear that nerves and attacks will make for a nervous and bumpy race.
On Sunday at 9:00 a.m. we are waiting for the order of calls to go and form the starting line. It seems that they do not enter and the judges begin to call the last handbikers of the time trial first. The mess begins before it starts so when I see a gap, I go to the starting line.
I’m starting off strong, but after my experience in South Africa, I want to reserve my strength for the subsequent changes of pace. Slow start and a platoon forms, something unusual where we rode around 10 stretched handbikers. A long line that attracts the attention of the public. Little by little we lose troops and a leading group of 5 runners is formed. The curves are drawn with extreme caution, no one wants to get hurt. I feel that the race is slow, I am in the group without great efforts. I am attentive when cornering, when I start to trace, those who are first have left the curve and I fear an attack that will open a gap. Step to 4 position.
We are on the 3rd lap when, in a 180 degree turn, I mount my front bumper on the rear bumper of a colleague, he traces the curve but I can’t turn the front wheel since it doesn’t rub on the ground. As I exit the curve, I manage to rest the front wheel, I am heading towards the curb and without time or space to brake, I impact with the curb. The inertia of speed causes the entire right side of the handbike to hit the curb. I fear I have punctured the front tire and bent the rear. I’m boxed in against the sidewalk and can’t get out. I try to move with my hands but I don’t move. I ask for help but it doesn’t come. Watch your rivals leave. I just lost the lead group and I can’t move. After several attempts and cries of despair, I manage to move the front wheel, push myself with my arms and get out of the traffic jam on the sidewalk. I pedal again but a noise from the back says that something pink or has bent on the handbike. I’m going all out for the head. Notice that a piece of tubular has torn off the front wheel, I can get a puncture at any moment. I know that the slow line in the corners of the leading group gives me room to reduce the distance. It’s early and I hope there are no changes of pace or attacks to the head. After 4 minutes at full speed I glimpse the head and soon I contact them again. I need a break. I’ve wasted a bullet. I am in 5 positions behind the head. I’m not here to give relief.
The laps pass until the last one arrives. Km 35 of the race. I know that my strength is fair and I plan to attack before the sharp curves, near the end. Suddenly, the pace quickens. They have changed pace before entering a 180-degree roundabout, with 4 km to go to the finish line. At the exit of the curve, war breaks out. Responding attempt. I see the rival’s wheel that has been slightly cut and I try to reach his height. I make the effort but I can’t do more, I can’t achieve it. A gap opens. The one behind me surpasses me. I take it to just 20 meters but I am not able to close the distance. The head is at a distance and so is the podium option. Decided to finish avoiding accidents and guarantee a 5th place. The front wheel is damaged and I could get a puncture at any time.
At the end, I feel great disappointment. The forces have not accompanied me. The pace has not been strong. I have not run with my heart in my mouth and this is attested to by the average pulse rate and watts. Despite the intensity, he had no ability to react at the end. Something has gone wrong. I consider that my preparation has been good, I have good aerobic capacity although it did not find me today. The only explanation I can find is muscle weakness caused by the unfortunate urinary infections.
Since the beginning of the year I have had many problems with urinary infections. My disability requires intermittent catheters, the pitcher goes so much to the source that it ends up generating urine infections. Last year 8 months passed without problems, I achieved my best results and made an important leap in quality. This year he has accumulated many repeat infections with their respective antibiotic treatments. The Saturday before the Spanish championship, I finished the last session of antibiotics. I hoped to recover during the week to face the competition with guarantees but in high-intensity races and with important rivals, in the end the strength is not what it should be. With these words I can summarize my championship, I do not intend to make excuses for my results or detract from the victory of my rivals since they prepare 100%, as I do. But this situation leads me to a deep reflection, what is the point of training so much, if at the moment of truth the infections do not allow me to perform at my maximum? Conclusion, if I want to continue in this sport, I must solve the problem of urinary infections now.
Without a doubt, I learn more from defeats than from victories. I draw my conclusions. I congratulate the winners for their work and perseverance, they undoubtedly make the national level higher and we will soon be able to rub shoulders with the world’s elite.
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