Riding the boards with my heart in my mouth

Whilst millions of UK residents were lining the Yorkshire roads to follow the start of the tour, our cycling club – Addiscombe – had organised something rather special for its members. 3 hours of coaching in the Olympic velodrome. 25 of us donned in black and yellow arrived at the stunning Olympic stadium made famous by sterling GB performances in 2012 and now it was our turn to ride the boards.

Walking up the the stunning velodrome you are greeted with the huge curved wooden structure, we signed in and made our way through the vast concrete corridors, full of anticipation. It’s quite intimidating when you first walk up the steps into the middle of the velodrome and I imagined how our GB track stars feel when they are doing this exact walk for their big races.

We all selected our bikes – very smart Condor fixed track bikes, smaller than usual and with a number of parts missing: gears, brakes, and most importantly, no bottle cage. We all started out on the carpeted area, struggling to get in, out and stop. Seeing us experienced road cyclists wobbling and nervy was funny. I for one was panicking as when we turned the tight corners of the practice loop my feet were hitting in the wheel sending me flying, but I was assured this wouldn’t happen on the track.

After splitting the group into ‘done it before’ and ‘terrified newbies’ (I was in the latter) our brilliant coach talked us through how to tackle this curved beast. Then without delay, we made our first attempt. Getting started is hard: you clip your feet in, start with them at 12 and 6pm, whilst holding on to the inside bar like a (trembling Lycra-clad) ballerina and then pull yourself forward and you’re off.

The first few laps were on the safety zone, a lovely blue flat area. Still feeling weird about no brakes I but liked it here. Next was the Côte d’Azur, the lowest section of the boards in a cheery blue colour, still not steep, still safe. Each time I pass the coach tells me to go harder but with 4 corners in quick succession, it’s taking some nerve to push on. I tell myself to man up and pick up the pace. We then work up to the next black and red section which is a but steeper and it starts getting very exciting. Next is the blue line which is fine on straights but very steep on the corners, and this is where it got scary. You are powering along and are suddenly faced with a big steeped curved wall and you have to attack it, even though you are slightly terrified if you are going to make it round or not. You feel as if you are going to tip over and hit the deck but amazing you don’t. The last section is above the blue line near the edge of the track at the highest point – this is the most terrifying. Peddling hard along the straight, coming up to the scarily steep bend you have to attack, pushing hard, and you are suddenly up high, on a steep slope going round – my heart was in my mouth, I was trembling all over and absolutely terrified. I loved it.

We then did a series of exercises, in pairs, switching positions and my favourite: sprinting from the front of one group to the back of the second.  Brilliant. The session ended, my thighs were burning a bit and I had an overwhelming high feeling. I can completely see why people love this.

It was the most exciting sport I have ever done, beating any extreme activity I’ve attempted before. It’s like a scary funfair ride but you are in control which is both terrifying and exciting, and the buzz I got lasted for days. So, when can we do it again? 🙂

Words by Naomi Gayler

Pictures by various