Sunday 3 August

Stage 1 – Sartene – Ajaccio   107km

I woke up feeling hot, tired and nervous.  It was also 42C without a cloud in the sky and with our race starting at 3pm, I knew staying hydrated was going to be very important.  I was also hoping the other riders were feeling as tired as me.  I have never started a major tour with such slept deprivation and wondered what level of fatigue I would have by the end of next week and the week after if I made it to Paris.

We were in the team cars by 10am, for the 3 hour drive to Sartene.  Again, we negotiated the narrow twisty road towards Ajaccio and had to stop twice for Christine who was car sick.

The course profile showed two category 4 climbs in todays stage.  A climb is categorised according to its steepness and degree of difficulty.  Category 4 climbs are typically the easiest to climb and usually do not cause the peloton to shatter.  The hors category and category 1 climbs are the climbs that all the non-climbers fear the most.  Apart from the two climbs of 7km and 8km, respectively, the stage looked fairly flat and so we predicted a sprint finish and had plans to set things up for either Katrina, Mette or myself.

However, we could not have been more incorrect in our predictions on how the day would go.  In the first 12km after completing a loop of Sartene, I found myself dropped from the peloton.  I had absolutely no strength in my legs and was fighting to stay with a small group of riders who were all chasing hard to get back on.  I had dreadful thoughts riding the remaining 100km alone, which could risk me being time cut on Day 1.  All tour riders must finish within a prescribed time, and on today’s stage, the limit was calculated as 25% of the winner’s time.

Our little group was still chasing as we came upon a 5km descent.  I can descend quite well and used this downhill section to try and close the gap to the peloton.  I nearly wiped myself out though as I hit a sharp right hand corner too fast and had to unclip my foot as I slid through the gravel with both wheels locked up.  Somehow I kept the bike upright and amazingly avoided a group of spectators who were right on the edge of the road.  Their look of panic as I slid towards them, turned to amazement as they realised I had kept the bike upright.  They all applauded me for not hitting the deck and then passionately screamed “Allez, allez” (go, go).

After a few more minutes I rejoined the peloton but not for long.  At the 24km mark, there was an uncategorized climb of 6km that shattered the peloton.  I was frustrated that the course profile grossly underestimated the difficulty of the climbs.  I was passed by all the team cars and found a group of 12 riders who were suffering as much as I was.

We all worked together until the 72km mark when I started cramping in the quadriceps (thighs).  I could hardly ride and watched my group disappear up the final 8km climb.  My speed had dropped to 8km/hr and if I didn’t pick up the speed it would be dark before I finished.  With 2km of the climb left, all the muscles down the back and inside of my legs started cramping too.  My legs were locking up and it was just agony trying to pedal.  I clutched one leg at a time with my hand and helped push and pull it through the pedalling motion.  I was trying to be brave but I couldn’t help moaning from the pain.

I pedalled with cramped legs for the remaining 25km and luckily made it home without being time cut.  Meanwhile, team mate Katrina, had ridden superbly to finish a credible 5^th.

I drank nearly 3 litres of a weak Extran mix as we did our 2 hour transfer back to Corte.  We arrived back in Corte at 9pm and in a state of fatigue, ate the soggy pasta, showered and collapsed with relief on the thin little matress in the dormitory rooms.  Lets hope tomorrow brings better things.