Margam Park is one of my favourite venues on the NPS circuit; a proper old school course, loads of climbs, sketchy singletrack descents, close racing and, if you’re not too blown, spectacular views from the top before you plunge back to sea level. I think it’s been hot and sunny nearly every time I’ve raced there, and depending on where it falls in the season, you get to blast around in the purple shade of the Rhododendrons.

Last race of the series this year and I opted to do the Short Track (XCC) as well as the main XCO.

Most of the time the XCC is a mix of abilities, some ‘hitters’ and some dads just racing for fun. Today it was all hitters and I knew I was in trouble. I was the only M50 in with a bunch of young M40s, but in XCC we are all in the Master’s race, no subdivisions on age. Gun goes, they go, I go straight out the back like I’m anchored to the start line. I gave it a go for one lap but watched everybody ride me off their wheels. With the XCO in a few hours there was no need to prolong the agony or do more damage to the main race. Lap 2 I just rode round waving to the crowd and then pulled off after I crossed the line. I got a 2nd place at the Regional XCC two weeks ago and have got on the podium at Margam XCC in previous years, so I knew something was off. I’ve been recovering from a stomach upset, and being a boy about it, I carried on training and racing through it, without much thought of the hole I was digging. Well today I found out how much of a hole I’d dug myself into.

I rode the XCO recce, nice course, but even in ‘granny’ the hills were killing me and my skills, limited as they are sometimes, had deserted me. No power on the ups, no skills on the way down. I spent some of the next 3 hours to race time sleeping, and the rest debating whether I should cut my loses and drive home early. It wasn’t going to be the race I wanted, and there was a real chance I’d crash on the descents. In the end I compromised, I decided to do one lap, mainly for the photos, and to prove to myself that I was off the pace. Take it easy on the downs and bail after a lap. Happy (ish) with the idea of a second DNF of the day, I headed for the start line.

Races are races, and there is something about having a number on your back, or your bike and seeing a flag drop that empties your brain, removes other concerns and focuses you on the next 10m of track – it’s why I love to race. Gun goes, we go, I take an easier paced start but still in the mix and we all head off up the first cobbled climb; it’s a horrific way to start a race. I hold in, hold on and stay just off the back of my usual rivals for most of the first lap. I don’t crash on the dusty, twisty descent and I crossed the line not feeling too bad. Scrap plan A (early bath) and see if I can make another lap. The front of the race was long gone (true even when I’m on form) and my usual frenemies were pulling clear, but I had new people to battle with, and that’s what racing is about. You can fight for the win, or you can fight not to be last; ok, the former has more prestige, but it’s the struggle that’s the fun part. I spent three laps trading places with a couple of other riders, one was a missile on the straight climbs, but nervous on the downs, one descended well but fell back on the climbs, and I was somewhere in the middle. We all played to our strengths, and it kept us all honest; me working harder than I really wanted to on the climbs to try and get ahead of the missile so he couldn’t block me on the descents. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. On the final lap he punched hard on the climb, but I stayed close enough and cut inside him on the only downhill corner where it was possible to make a move. From there on it was full gas to the line, there was still a long, flat finish section where his power could have ridden him back over me. Luckily I put in enough of a gap to keep him off my wheel on the finish section. Over the line and done, cheers and handshakes all round. I stayed at the finish line and watched for my usual rivals to finish. They had narrowly (by seconds in one case) avoided being lapped so they had to go full race distance, but for all that, they only finished a couple of places ahead of me. Turns out I hadn’t lost too much ground against my rivals, and I’d had a great battle in the sun around a great course. Did I have the race I wanted, no, did I have fun, did I push myself and was I glad I didn’t drive home early, definitely.

MTB XC Nationals Rnd 5 Margam Park