The crowd roared as we, the handful of riders that was once over 200 riders large rode slowly around the course on the final lap of the six and a half hour race. Paolo Bettini sat on the front of the 30 man group, blowing kisses to the tifosi as they chanted his name, blew airhorns, rang bells and draped flags over the course. When it was known his teammate had won the title the noise from the Italian crowd intensified. At that moment we could no longer talk in the group, or hear anything coming over our radios, which had the volume cranked to the maximum.

Although the course boiled over with jubilant emotion as the beet red spectators eagerly leaned over the barriers to get closer to the riders, I felt disappointment that the race was over before the finish line. My legs still had some energy left in them—not much but enough to push for another lap. We had come into the last lap close to the front group. They were within site, and striking distance and most riders were confident it would regroup as the Spanish weren’t represented well in the front and the Belgians had a confident and powerful looking leader, Tom Boonen, in the second group. It should have come back together.

World Championships are races unlike any other race on the calendar. Tactics become blurred as riders often race for their own interests, their trade teams and, due to jealous rivalries, against their countrymen. Teams with nine riders can control and dominate the race while smaller teams of three or so must wait, patiently, taking their chances to attack at the right moment. The smaller teams are at the mercy of the larger squads and follow and wait for the rare moment where the underdog might have the chance at becoming Champion. For this, there will rarely be a World Champion that isn’t from one of the dominant cycling nations.

Once we reached the top of the second to last climb, the tail end of the front group still in site, the race from behind was shut down. Bettini and Valverde chased every attack to keep the group together and then slowed it down so the gap would grow. Once it was apparent no rider was getting away, and we had resigned to rolling in slowly, the celebrations began. As he had just announced his retirement prior to the race Bettini shook hands with his rivals, rode on the front of the group and played up to his adoring tifosi, I could understand the emotion of the moment but it seemed the wrong way to finish a race for a world title.

Two days have passed since I crossed the finish line in Varese and I can barely get out of bed for the pain in my ribs and body. I crashed early in the race. It was a crash that threw me on the ground before I could react and I still have no idea what happened. On the ground, winded from the fall and riders crashing into me, I thought my race was over. I got up slowly as the team cars passed, the mechanics and directors gazing out the window at the damage while other mechanics hurried to get their fallen riders up and going again. Up and mobile, I got on a new bike and raced back to the peloton.

We don’t think about the damage and pain until we are back on the bike again as it is only then that we access the damage. Riding takes precedence over an injury. My arm, leg and hip burned with road scrapes, which was not a big deal but internally my rib and back hurt each time I accelerated out of the saddle or took a deep breath. My legs were still too good to stop racing. I had trained and thought about the race for a month prior and I was not going to give in to a crash.

As the laps passed, the peloton wilted on the course. The speed and intensity stripped the peloton and with each ascent more riders came to a near standstill as their legs cramped under the pressure of the race.

The peloton has changed in the last half of the year. Riders no longer attack and surge ahead, holding a high speed until the end. Now, they attack, gain a small gap and slow down, as they can’t sustain the prolonged effort. They stay away not because they are powerfully forging a gap but because the peloton behind gives in the pursuit. It was evident in the finale of the Worlds that no rider could attack and power up the entire climb alone and they watched each, attacking and covering. The winning attacks came on the flatter section of the course where their speed could be maintained; their legs with less pressure on them could more easily sustain fluidity.

Radio-free racing
The U23 race was the most interesting of the week. Without radios in their ears the race was wide open and alive.

Unaccustomed to racing without a director relaying tactical guidance, and orders, over the radios in their pockets the riders were left to their own instincts and knowledge. Breakaways that looked like they would make it to the finish were reeled in, riders unknowingly chased down their teammates, gaps were crossed with violent attacks while other riders sat in front of a charging group not knowing they would imminently be absorbed.

The racing was exciting as it wasn’t orchestrated and had depth and emotion. Like digital images have changed photography, radios, have taken the grainy reality out of the peloton

On several levels it is nice to see the humanity and reality return to cycling.