My banana came back up, sprayed onto the roadside
HSaturday, August 4, Stage 1 Krakow to Krakow (132km)
AVING last turned a pedal in anger at the Giro d’Italia in May, it was good to get today’s opening stage of the Tour of Poland under my belt. The long lay-off gave the day a start-of-the-season feel for me but I felt grand for the most part and spent most of the stage near the front of the bunch, just getting the ref lexes back and settling into the speed and rhythm of racing again.
A flat profile and soaring temperatures of 35 degrees made for a fast but fairly straightforward stage and I was happy to catch up with a few friends I hadn’t seen in a long time as Demma got himself into the early breakaway with three others.
These four gave the bunch a hard time and made the sprinters’ teams earn their money, only getting caught in the last 10km where Bora Hansgrophe led German champion Pascal Ackermann to victory, and Demma’s efforts were rewarded with the combativity jersey for the day. Sunday, August 5, Stage 2: Tarnowskie Gory to Katowice (156km)
IF my first day back on the bike went reasonably well yesterday, today went crap. Literally. The first sign that things weren’t going to be great came with the ominous sounds of gurgling that emanated from my stomach just before I went to bed last night.
Having raced in 35 degrees earlier in the day, at first I thought I had drunk water that was too cold and it was just swirling around in my stomach for a few minutes, but I knew it was more than that when I made the 10-yard dash to the bathroom as quietly as I could and puked for the first time at around 2am.
An after-taste of egg reminded me of the omelette I’d had for lunch but my team-mates had omelettes too so I’m not really sure what caused it.
Either way, with my Italian team-mate Alberto Bettiol snoring obliviously in the other bed, it was a run I’d be making again and again as the night wore on, and soon it wasn’t only coming out one end.
After a brutal night I felt so bad that at breakfast this morning all I could force down was a cup of tea and a cracker.
As the stage didn’t start until 3.30 today, I forced myself to have a bowl of rice for lunch but once I got on the bike all I could manage was water for the first half of the stage.
Because I was sick, our team doctor travelled in the team car today and although he gave me something to stop the diarrhoea before the start this morning, within 35km of racing I felt things were heading towards what Alex Ferguson once described as ‘squeaky bum time’ and he was called upon for more.
Thankfully that seemed to do the trick but I still had three and a half hours of hanging off the back of the peloton holding my stomach in ahead of me as I tried to stop the stabbing contractions in my gut.
On the doctor’s advice, I tried a banana around the halfway mark but it came back up within ten minutes and was sprayed onto the side of the road. At least I was riding last man at the time and there was nobody behind me.
If I could have stopped today I would have. I had absolutely no power at all and, apart from the constant pain, I just felt drained all day.
Thankfully the stage was 15km shorter than advertised because the race accidentally took the wrong road and missed an opening circuit but my stomach was so sore on the last lap that when they really accelerated with about 10km to go, I just decided it was better to ride my own pace to the finish and crossed the line last, seven minutes behind double stage winner Ackermann.
I couldn’t hold on any longer and rode straight for the toilet on the bus. I don’t know if I have food poisoning or what but I think if I had a virus I would be a lot worse.
Hopefully it’s just a 24-hour thing and I will be able to force myself to eat tonight.
Thankfully, tomorrow is another f lat day, so if I can get through that, I should start coming around again in the next few days.
I KNEW IT WAS MORE THAN THAT WHEN I MADE THE 10-YARD DASH TO THE BATHROOM AS QUIETLY AS I COULD AND PUKED FOR THE FIRST TIME AT 2am