Life is full of unknown obstacles and since bike riding is part of life, it’s only natural that the randomness continues in this vain. I wasn’t really thinking too much about the race this week. The focus was to nail a week of work in just under 3 days before flying out to the Pyrenees on Wednesday night to recce the 2010 L’Etape du Tour route from Pau to Col du Tourmalet with fellow velo mentalist and Cyclefilm director Markus Neuert. These trips are always hardcore from start to finish (just the way we like it) culminating in dawn ‘til dusk riding/filming and little more than fifteen hours sleep in three days.

By the time my head hit the pillow in the early hours of Saturday morning I had the feeling that I could sleep for a long, long time. Rewind 8 hours and we were stood at the top of the Tourmalet, 2,115m up in the sky feeling like kings. The air was clear, temperature at an unheard of 20 degrees centigrade. On a day like this your troubles don’t hang in the breeze for long. There’s too much magic to take in to have any worries. Well, maybe there was just one small voice of doubt in my head saying “good riding the last couple of days MC but how on earth do you plan on recovering for that cross race tomorrow”. Simple, I like the challenge.

On any other weekend I’d have had an extra day to rest before the race. Not this time, Round 5 of the Wessex was 70 miles north in Oxford, starting at 13.15 on Saturday. I managed to squeeze 6 hours sleep in before getting up to stare disappointingly out of the window at a dank, grey, Halloween dawn. Light rain already falling to dampen tired spirits even more. Rock 'n' roll it certainly was not. At this point if I’d crawled back into bed, pulling the duvet over my head, it’s quite literally anyone’s guess as to how long I’d have been there (we’re talking days, not hours).

The countdown had begun. Car and kit bag packed in a comatosed haze. Half expecting a 3km mud bath, the Oxford course was fast and rideable, a couple of steep banks to negotiate and some slick technical sections that had “2nd lap crash” written all over them. I rode a couple of steady practice laps to get my bike dialed. Having wiped out at every race so far, this time I was going soft with the tyre pressure. Under 2 bars in the tubs & tubeless. I didn’t have the energy to test my second bike out and decided a hard warm up was out of the question with the legs I’d woken up with. The main thing was to try and stay upright and just see what happens.

Starting on the first row of the grid I got my best start of the season so far and settled into 3rd place behind series leader Adrian Lansley and Crispin Doyle. To my surprise I felt comfortable, not having to redline it to make up time at the beginning is a huge advantage. Lap one was all about holding your line, using your elbows a little and settling into a rhythm. Onto lap two and I rolled through to take the lead, more to have a clear view of the course ahead than a timed attack. I backed off on the technical parts as being the second lap it was just a matter of time before I hit the wet grass again (or so I thought). Slipping back to 3rd but with Matt MacDonald for company. Bring it on! Lap 2 done and no crashes, I could have climbed off there and then and it would have been a result!

As the race progressed lapped riders became more of a concern, it seemed like there were more than 117 starters out there. The long top section of singletrack was impossible to pass anyone on so it became more tactical than an all out power fest. It didn’t make sense to try and get a gap knowing that it’s likely that the hard work would go unrewarded when hitting this part of the course. The pace was still high with Adrian and Crispin just seconds ahead. A mistake from either of them could have been costly. Matt and myself were sharing the work with what seemed like a reasonable gap back to 5th place.

With two laps to go I could see that the MacDonald shadow was not in view after the claggy climb just after the start straight. It was time to try and hold the pace and make it hard for him to get back to me. Nearly losing it with a two wheel slide off one of the steepest banks on the course, when I could see I had about 10 seconds in hand I relaxed so as not to chuck away a podium finish on the last lap. By this time the legs had come good, sometimes it’s a shame cross racing is only an hour (for an endurance rider that is) but at the same time that hour can feel like hell when you’re suffering. With no bike changes (or crashes) today I have to say that the Dugast Typhoons were faultless. Four races in and we’re making progress on correct tyre pressure it would seem.

Riding back from Oxford, in my usual style, was a little optimistic even by my sometimes over ambitious standards, so I got my folks to punt me out of the car at Newbury for the leaf littered ride home. As darkness fell I pondered once again the randomness of bike riding, just as I was met with a “road closed” sign which meant more bike on shoulder cyclocross action. You never know what's around the corner.

Somewhat concerned that it would seem that two sleep deprived days climbing mountains is the way forward. Hmm, or maybe it was the 1kg of Pyractif secret receipe vegetable curry and Fiz’i:k saddle shaped narn bread (attention to detail is everything) that was inhaled in one breath on Friday night before heading off to Toulouse airport that made the difference.

Either way, I've decided:

1) I need more mountains and curry
2) Over training IS the new recovery

You heard it here first…