Every racer/cyclist out there gets a bad race/ride every now and then. The one who doesn't is clearly a liar.
My worst race of the year was without any doubt at Bole Hill, a proper hilly course in the Peak district, the type of course I rejoice. Right from the outset on the main climb I could feel something wasn't quite right. The "rubber bands" would be the order of the day. Racing is easier when things go your way, when you are in a position to actually race. The rubber band snapped with 3 laps to go, left with own thoughts and inner demons knowing full well that with the pair of legs I'd brought with me on that day, getting back on the ever decreasing bunch was not going to happen.
