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This time I can’t recount my own grand success, my performance was what I merited, mediocre, 490th of a thousand participants. No one checked my urine where they would have found a level of gin and tonic so high as to withdraw my racing license.

But let me describe a wonderful day and excuse me if I am long-winded:

5:30 alarm rings, morning rituals and breakfast, leave the house at 6:40 all dressed to go, 6:50 arrive at GranBar where the few in attendance thought I was going to a masked matinee, 7:00 pickup the New Zealand champion, Tanya Randall (from now on referred to as Tanya) at the agreed location, 7:10 pick up Dr. Mauro Santarelli (the Doctor), 7:20 pickup Professor Mauro Di Tommaso (the Professor), just in time to ascertain that we are two minutes ahead of schedule, and then the first problem, the Turin-Savona motorway is closed due to an accident, any team would have thought this a premonition and immediately returned home, we do not, we make a typical Italian gesture to ward off any negative influence from the accident, utter platitudes, and go along the alternative highway, after 50 minutes, and several revolutions at each roundabout due to my indecision, here we are in Bra, a charming town famous for its sausage delicacy and the race in question, van parked, the Doctor and Tanya rush to retrieve our race numbers and I and the Professor check the bikes in minute detail, all of which are BMC, verify that all bikes are present, all have two wheels, leaning the bikes as well as possible alongside the van we realize we are the only ones not to have bike stands as well as the only competitors with hairy legs (Tanya aside, being more competent with a razor), notably the Doctor who is the Italian record holder for hairy legs, to give you an idea when he received the hair removal quote from the beautician he decided that with the same amount he preferred to buy a car, which he did last Saturday.

After about 30 minutes we had race numbers and timing chips on the bikes, then began the more delicate phase of the day, to find a bathroom that lives up to expectations and to lighten our body weight, in this ritual not even Tanya is excluded, in fact she seemed the most passionate, I think it is a Maori ritual that to perform at your best three trips to the bathroom are necessary in which in the ultimate seconds before the race she zigzagged on foot amongst the cyclists already deployed in the starting grid who were angered at her initial passing and then furious at her return.

Finally the start, the strategy was for Tanya and the Doctor to do the Granfondo (150km) and I and the Professor to do the Mediofondo (110km), the Doctor had the task of guiding Tanya to a great performance, to guard and protect her in the first few kilometers then everything would depend on merit during the course.

My strategy, and that of the Professor, was just as ambitious, to spend a beautiful Sunday cycling, to dodge anything insidious, not to come last and hopefully I would not fall.

Everything went as expected, the Professor and I arrived unharmed at the finish in about 4 hours, Tanya was superb, the loudspeaker bellowing her surname saying she was coming second overall in the last climb awakened me and the Professor from the post performance catharsis, we immediately went to the finish line where we were met with screams from the stadium.

She arrived fresh at the refueling zone and asked for a Moscow mule, vodka was unfortunately finished and she had to settle for a soft drink.

A few minutes later the Doctor arrived, he tried and heroically never gave up, a tough furry one he is.

Afterwards there were moments of terror fearing the doping control, Tanya had prepared for the race in the way of the Maori, the previous evening she had drunk uproariously and danced until dawn, we changed clothes and went to the podium where in just 2 hours we witnessed the prizegiving, it was the most tiring part of the day because in the meantime a Calabrian sun had appeared and baked our faces as the Doctor brought beers to flow down the throats burned dry from the race.

If I think about the female athletes, Laura being one of them, who climb on the podium every week, my admiration has grown, how do they do it?
It was a beautiful day, I look forward to the “giorno della marmotte” race to drive my dream team to new successes.

Mario, happy that I took up cycling, sorry not to have done it earlier.

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