1 team, 12 cyclists, 205km... Yup, it was Double Century time again at the end of November. And I once again rode with the Club100CT Cadiz Diamonds - the sparkly ladies team that came third last year. I've been having quite a tough year, though, and it has had a huge affect on my training as my cycling took a back seat.

With fitness levels dropping and one month to go, a friend suggested I consider riding with a slower team...  I've been riding in the Spring League, with each race ending up more as a training ride than a race for me, as I tended to fall off the back within the first 30mins or 30kms. I got very used to riding by myself for 70km+. I could see my DC team mates were getting stronger and faster, as I got more nervous about how long I'd be able to hang onto them for.

I gave my team captain an opportunity to "release" me from the team, but she wouldn't hear it, "...we know you always cope better with longer distances...". Gulp, ok! I was starting to imagine that I'd hang onto the team for the first half of the DC, then ride the last 100km on my own. I knew I could go the distance, just not quite at the pace I feared they'd set. To add to it, the team was going for podium again - but of course!

Race Day comes and off we go. A comfortable speedy pace was set from the start, sometimes a little fast for me, but I knew I just had to keep quiet, keep breathing and pedal. With the other ladies teams just minutes ahead and behind us on the start line, our competition was always in sight and in mind. The pace continued.

Tradouws Pass and I nearly died trying to keep up. Already 3 of us were identified as being the weaker climbers of the day and were given a lot of moral support to help us to the top. By Barrydale I was very tempted to drop off and say cheers to the ladies. But I'd started with Op de Tradouw as my goal. As long as I can stick with them to the top of that...

Focus. All I could see for most of the ride was the rear wheel in front of me. I tuned out to pretty much everything except for team communication and those rear wheels. The tyres with white and blue sidewalls were the most captivating. Eventually we were at the base of Op de Tradouw and strong climbers were being assigned to weaker ones to assist them up. I held onto a pocket for a few minutes, but let go as I was about to throw up. The owner of the pocket then came behind me and pushed for a while - what a difference!

The climb eased a bit towards the top and I was left to climb alone, arriving at the first water point just behind the rest of my team. 1minute stop and we were off again. No faffing allowed on this team. Our Admin Captain, Susan, wasn't riding due to injury and was therefore our backup on the day, running a tight ship. She kept an eye on the competition and updated our pacesetter as to the time gaps. Tight. Ship.

Whoooooosh and we were zooming downhill. My Raleigh RC3000 has been weighed and proven to be the heaviest of the team at 10.3kg. I'm no Twiggy either, so combined with my "Tank", I can descend pretty snappily. So I moved to the front of the group and sat next to Kasha and together we whooped and laughed as we sped towards Montague. At least I had some fun.

After another speedy stop we left Montague to make our way towards Robertson. Having felt like the ungrateful dead up the climbs, I had recovered decently enough to have some sense of humour and strength back. I was still focusing on that rear wheel, but was slightly more aware of my surroundings. I knew from last year that the stretch to Robertson is long and tough, with such slight inclines that the road appears flat, but you can feel the gradient in your legs when travelling at 35+ km/h. I feared this stretch, but not as much as I feared the section that lead to Bonnievale.

There is some relief, however, between these "death sections" as I consider them: from the Robertson circle to the bridge crossing, the wind is often behind you and the road is lined with gorgeous flowering bushes, colourful and friendly.

Blue sidewall... White sidewall...

I noticed that the group was getting silent as everyone was starting to feel the mid-race lull and showing signs of fatigue. Ladies who had been strong up the climbs were skipping one or two turns at the front in order to recover a bit, as we all did our part to pull.

The heat was insane this year! My Polar registered an average of 29deg and a max of 40. As we approached Bonnievale I felt as if my brain was dehydrating and detaching itself from my skull. Kasha had run out of water and there were still a good 10kms to the next water point. The rollers took their toll on my legs and I was starting to fall back a bit, along with 3 others. But Captain Mary shouted words of encouragement (and threats) and I clung on.

Blue sidewall...

By Bonnievale we had lost 2 team mates, leaving only 9, as we'd started one down. 6 Ladies still looked strong, but 3 of us were struggling. With 40kms still to go, we couldn't afford to drop off in case of puncture, or otherwise. Up the first big climb out of Bonnievale the 3 of us dropped back and The Six (needed to determine the team time) carried on without us, taking a bit of a gamble. I told the other two that we should stick together and as close behind The Six as possible.

Up the next climb and Jayde popped off the back with cramp. And the next climb, Nix popped off my wheel, having earlier suffered an asthma attack on the bike. So there I was. Team mate #7. First backup in case of puncture, or otherwise. And The Six were already off in the distance. For as long as I could still see them I cycled my heart out. Captain Mary's words in my head "We need you..." And they were gone.

I sat up and stopped pedalling for a while. It's amazing how your brain works. I had no sidewall to focus on, no Six ahead in the distance to chase after. I looked back in the hope that Nix or Jayde would be able to catch up with me, but instead saw the other ladies teams approaching. Also down to 6-7 riders, the competition came past me and all I could think was "Ride, Diamonds, ride! And please god don't puncture!!!"

30kms to go and I carried on pedalling, with the odd straggler from the competition teams riding slowly past. Like me, they had fallen off the back and were riding to finish. 20kms to go and I looked at my clock. A bit of maths and I figured that if I tried, I could perhaps manage a sub-7hr DC. I've been close in the last two years, but not close enough.

Focus now on the clock, I picked up pace. The last climbs were painful but at least I was overtaking the odd straggler. Grateful for my triple, I got to the top and sped my way downhill. For a few kays I rode with another straggler, working together until I couldn't keep up with her anymore. It was fine, though, as we were close to the end and still within 7hours.

The finish line was new this year: a nasty little 500m long climb just to kill already dead legs. As I rounded the corner and started the last ascent, the straggler I'd been riding with suddenly stopped, screaming as she dismounted: cramp. Eina! Up the climb, 500m to go, push push push and over the line.

Yeeehaaa!!!!! 6hr54.
I was only 8minutes behind my team. 6hr46. The sparkly Diamonds were still there, celebrating: we'd won!!! A mere 43seconds ahead of our closest competition.

WOW See you there next year! :)