“Welcome to the sixth race in our winter series here at Hillingdon. Good luck. Go!” was about the size of it and then we were off.

Having checked out some other riders on Strava who’d raced here the week previous, I knew speeds would be somewhere around 38kp/h average for the 40 minutes + five laps we’d be racing. Now that sounds fast, but the drafting effect we all know from riding in a paceline is amplified massively by being in a 40-strong bunch. The speeds, although high, were really pretty comfortable and I was even able to have a cheeky, short-lived dig off the front once things had settled down after the first few turns around the circuit.

One of the things I hadn’t been prepared for was just how much yelling there is in a race. Seemingly, there is never not someone shouting the word ‘Line!’ Usually this is an attempt to remind the person ahead or to the side of you to stay on the same course throughout a bend, but equally I think I saw it used more as a warning before the yeller performed a particularly chancy manoeuvre of their own. If in doubt, shout “Line”, seems to be the rule of thumb.

Of course, after a few laps I just joined in, yelling “LIIIIIINE!” frequently and indiscriminately, and peppering in a few “STEADY!” and “WOAAAH”s for good measure. It seemed to be doing the trick until we neared the end of the allotted 40 minutes of racing. With the sight of the first lap board approaching, the tension clearly ratcheted up a level.

“Don’t worry, you can take a lap!”

‘I can do what?’ I thought. Sensing my dazed perplexity, he tried again,

“You can sit this lap out and join back in on the next one.”

Oh great, I have to go back in. I’m not allowed to just slink back into the clubhouse for a conciliatory cup of tea and a biscuit? Super.

Sure enough, the peloton swung back into view and I gamely jumped back on. The pace had dropped, clearly to allow time to clear the human and bicycle detritus from the course. In fact, we proceeded round a couple of times through the circuit before the flag was dropped. As soon as it was, the five-laps-to-go board came up and we were back to frenetic racing.

Too shaken up by the crash to really mix it in the bunch, I gradually got dropped further and further back – giving away vital position for the inevitable final sprint. Not one to go out weakly, I decided to chuck in one more ‘heroic’ attack, which lasted all of 100 metres before being reeled in again on two laps to go.

My eventual placing of 26th was pretty much to be expected on a first race, but certainly something to try and improve upon next time. If I can stay upright, I reckon I could be in with a shout for a top ten.

A word on race training

Depending on where you decide to race and the events you want to take part in, you may have to complete one or two race training sessions before you’re actually allowed to compete. As far as British Cycling is concerned you just need a license to race, but it’s down to the event or series organisers as to whether they let completely untested riders take to the start line.

Later in the year there are a few events I want to take part in that are run by a series that does require you do a couple of training sessions, so I thought I’d get them out of the way early. Ironically, falling on a date after my first race, I signed up for a training day – also held at Hillingdon.

The course was about three hours of practical, spent outside on a freezing cold crit track running some race-specific drills and generally getting used to riding in proximity to others. While some of the stuff covered was elementary, overall I was super impressed. I’ve already been cornering a bit tighter and deliberately bumping into ride buddies to spook them a bit on training rides.

Definitely recommended, even for those who aren’t actively thinking of racing – the course I did was run by Spring Cycle Coaching and Seven Hundred.