The Simple Life

Since finishing the FBD Insurance Ras life has been hectic; commitments which arose during the eight day period had to be postponed. Now that the dust has settled on a busy fortnight the introspection can begin.

My thoughts on the first two stages follow.

The Ras is a different event for everyone. Although each athlete arrives at the same destination each evening, the journey of each is unique. Over the course of the eight days I experienced a range of emotions which were almost inextricably linked to my performance on that days stage.

One of my most enduring memories from this years Ras was setting out from Dunboyne for the start of stage one against a backdrop of cheering crowds with the U2's 'Beautiful Day' resonating long into the distance. At that moment I was almost overcome by the significance of the event within Ireland. Leaving aside the fact that the Ras has become a major event on the international cycling calender, I was more taken back by the historical significance of participation in a event which has overcome manifest social and economic obstacles. My pensive mindset was soon replaced by one of concentration as we roared out of town for the beginning of the 2010 FBD Insurance Ras. The speed was about what I expected, poor bunch positioning caused me to miss a split in the bunch over the first KOM of the day. After Dundalk, what remained of the bunch fragmented once more as a group formed in an attempt to chase. I managed to make the split on that occasion but never regained contact with the leaders. The stage ended for me without incident finishing in 83rd place in a group which was eleven minutes behind the winner.

I had a few dark moments during the eight days. The worst crash I have ever seen took place on the second stage into Carrick-on-Shannon. I am not sure of the external circumstances that surrounded the crash but within the peleton it was business as normal leading up to the incident. We had just began a decent after a stinging little climb which had reduced the main bunch to little over forty riders. A Spanish team forced the pace, chasing the breakaway which had a dwindling lead. I was placed about fifteen riders from the front as the leaders took the apex through a blind corner on a country road. Crashes are usually characterised by the distinctive noise of brake pads squealing on carbon wheels but this instance the smash came before the squeal. A landrover had crashed into the front of the paceline, head-on. Riders funneled away through the narrow opening between the crashed car and the injured riders to maximise access for emergency services. The race was neutralised for the remainder of the day. Thankfully no life threatening injuries were sustained. There was a sombre mood as we rolled to the finish, each reflecting on events which had life altering potential.