“Bringing back Bronze”
UCI Masters Road Cycling World Championships
Race report by Mary Haw
September 2010

A group of muscular, lycra-clad women in their thirties assemble from all over the world beneath a huge banner with a gauntlet of nations’ flags fluttering before them. Last minute chattering is in at least 5 different languages and the National and World championship stripes on sleeves are shown off with pride. Being an anonymous rider and knowing nothing about those around me meant that reading the race and the strength of the riders would be essential in the early part of the course. Despite the majestic Alps rising green and grey to the South and toffee coloured cows happily clanging through the valleys, my stomach was a ball of nerves and my heart rate is already at 60%. The postcard town of St Johan in Tirol in Austria was once more host to the UCI Masters World Championships and World Cup Road Cycling events.

The start gun exploded and before long the nerves were gone and once again I was just ‘out riding my bike’. The language barriers between riders evaporates because suddenly we’re all just speaking Cycling – “Hold your line!”, “Right turn”, “Watch the attack on the left” needs no translation when you’re in the midst of a race cruising at 42km/hr. The 40km loop, of which the ladies only complete once, seemed a little short compared to what I was used to, but I was happy that I could push hard on the climbs knowing that there was time to recover and I wouldn’t have to do that too many times. The pace was high and the girls attacked hard. Not knowing who was a threat and who wasn’t, I chased down almost every attack and found myself on the front a few too many times. Nevertheless, I hung with the front group over the climbs and I was encouraged that our local South African races had given me more than ample experience to stick with these Euro-champs. When attacks on the flats couldn’t get away, I knew it would come down to a sprint and tried to position myself through the dicey off-ramp and turns in the last 500m. My guess as to who would have the strongest sprint was horribly wrong and I discovered just in time to get off her wheel and sneak through a gap to come careering down the right hand side and into 3rd position. In those final split seconds I had “Nkosi Sikelele” going through my head hoping that I would get to hear my national anthem that night.

With the warm up World Cup race under my belt and a large trophy to show for it, the UCI World Championship race over the same course felt slightly more familiar. But, the group was bigger and the stakes were higher which resulted in a very twitchy bunch and selfish racing because everyone had their eyes on gold. The group stayed together and through a narrow winding section the Slovenian national champion crashed out with a few others. But ‘France’, ‘Germany’, ‘Norway’ and ‘Australia’ were still in my sights. Despite some hard attacks to break up the group, the inevitable bunch sprint was around the corner. Once again, avoiding a pile-up in the final 500m was a feat in itself and I had to work really hard to make up my lost position. I was coming down the left on ‘Australia’s’ wheel, but realised that I was getting boxed in and those in front just weren’t going fast enough. I swung all the way to the right but ‘France’ (winner of the World Cup) quickly closed that gap. I swung all the way left again and finally the gap I was looking for opened up. I gave one final push come within a hair’s breadth of the second place wheel to claim bronze medal number two!

The elation of being on the podium twice was particularly highlighted by the fanfare and celebration that goes along with each prize-giving. Podium places are presented with huge trophies, medals and a flag raising ceremony to the winner’s national anthem – so alas, no “Nkosis Sikelele” this time but our beautiful flag got raised with pride. The other South Africans in the crowd were so supportive and excited to have ‘one of them’ up on the podium and even Italians (the infamously “cool dudes” of the whole event) were congratulating me the next day. It was a beautiful moment to be representing my country doing something I love.

Despite many cold, early mornings of winter training and the sacrifices we make for our cycling, the overwhelming feeling I had leaving Austria, was one of gratitude. Much of bike racing comes down to good luck on the day and many of our crew did not have luck on their sides with crashes, broken bones and icy Alpine rain to deal with. But for me, beyond lucky racing, it was a privilege to take part in an event that crosses the many borders of nationality, language, age and gender to bring people together with a common passion. To see eighty-year old men (and similarly old women) fighting it out for their position in the sprint and taking such pride in their sport was inspiring – and made me realise that I might be doing this for a long time still to come.