As I sit nice and toasty warm on the couch at home, the bitter cold, wet day in Miners Rest could have been a long time ago. But when you arrive 3 hours early for a race in the middle of nowhere, and panning for gold at Sovereign Hill isn't an option, the bitter resentment of giving too many hours of your life to a 64km TTT is burned in the brain.

I had caused a slight stir and even forced an item on the agenda of my cycling club AGM in order to ride in a men's team for this event. When I was graciously granted a start in the B team, they were quick to notify me of the fine 'international class' riders who would make up the A team (I was unaware that Cancellera, Schumacher and Cadel were members of my club). I was even concerned that I may not be strong enough to ride with my team.

Fear not, dear reader. There were apologies, pull outs, no shows and possibly never-were's: I was upgraded to the A team on arrival. My 3 teammates came with reputations of great strength, and the weather didn't lend itself to any last minute practice, so they dismissed the idea of a team pow-wow. The day got colder, the wind stronger, and then the rain blew in.

We had 2 x laps of a 32km loop around Miners Rest and the aptly named, Blowhard. After 10km, one lad (let's call him Cippolini) was clearly blown. We slowed down to allow him to keep up, as we wanted to keep all 4 riders for at least 1 lap. After another 10km, lad #2 (let's call him Voeckler) seemed noticeably absent. Lad #3 (Contador) and I were rolling turns as though it was a pair's TT with two barnacles in tow.

At the end of lap 1, we said arrivederci to Cippo and we were down to three. Contador's legs weren't pumping with quite the same voracity as the first lap, and Voeckler forced the pace down through many of the cross wind and hilly sections as he struggled to hold the wheel. We couldn't afford to lose another rider without being disqualified, so I sat on the front and did a bit of yelling under my arm (refraining from profanities, but not for want of their suitability). Voeckler managed a late surge as the finish line approached, and we posted a time without crashing or any of us committing homicide, a great feat I tell you.

No medal and no debrief, but there may have been a little pride swallowed and a bit of r.e.s.p.e.c.t earned, and I got a good workout.

My average power was good, especially given conditions and the time I spent on the front. It had been a solid day yesterday as I battled the inclement weather of the Western Highway in the 89th annual running of the Melbourne to Ballarat - I know, it seems counter intuitive to head in that direction at slow speeds, and don't get me started on the handicapping procedures in that event - but all is on track with 9 weeks to go.

I swear, I will be in a better mood at the signing off of my next race report.

Ciao,

Bridie