KO’d in the Alps - 2020

I was riding my first ever race in the Alps. Yes, the Alps. You know, those mountains you grow up watching in bike races on TV. Tomorrow I would be lining up against France’s best amateur cyclists in the final Coupe de France of this bizarre, Covid-ruined, season.

Right now, I am sat on my small hotel room bed, just after getting back from one of the most beautiful, scenic and peaceful pre-race rides I’ve ever done.

We rode two hours with 1,000 metres of climbing on bohereens and goat tracks. It’s rare that I get to lead the route for the pre-race ride so I made sure my team mates remembered it – though one or two of the guys weren’t too happy about having to do two hours the day before the race.

McDunphy on the way to the Irish title in the Newcastle West Wheelers-run National Road Championships last month (Photo: Bryan Keane – Inpho)

After a solid feed and a good night’s rest the race was upon us. I felt strangely calm for what was to be one of the biggest races I’ve ridden all year.

As we got ready my teammates blared the usual French rap, really living up to the reputation of a team from the north of Paris. Perhaps this is to help ease the nerves or perhaps they genuinely like it, perhaps…

We signed on and as we rolled away from the sign-on stage I stopped to talk to another Irish man who I’ve raced with many times – missing the small window I’d left myself to warm up. ‘It’s all good, there’s 170km to warm up,’ I convinced myself.

We set off with the bang of a gunshot, the usual French dramatic start to give the locals of this town their public entertainment for the year. 

I was enjoying myself. The sensations were good, as only Sean Kelly can say. I had a nice view of what was going on from the rear of the peloton, I felt no stress. I almost felt like I was floating on the pedals.

As we rolled through the first 20km or so the road was ever undulating; up and down, left and right, but never too difficult.

That was until we came upon a descent from hell. I distinctly remember this because, well, it was downright dangerous. A bohereen is stretching it; such was the width of the road.

Of course if you enter a technical section of road at the back of the bunch you’ll soon find yourself distanced, as I did. ‘Well done,’ I thought to myself sarcastically.

Once the descent was finished the road began to kick up as we finally hit the first of our many climbs. It was time to go if I ever wanted to see the race again. And so I was off.

I jumped out of the straggling group of bad descenders and after about five minutes riding hard I found myself back in the race.

What followed was a route I’d describe as beautifully brutal. There was no flat. It was up or down.

In a brace but still managing a smile after a very dangerous crash, and serious injury. But it’s a fall he will fully recover from. That process is, thankfully, already well underway

I tried to make conversation with the few English-speakers left in the group. They didn’t want to talk to me. I don’t blame them, to be fair.

We crested the most difficult climb of the race with 50km to go, a horrible 6km col with an average gradient of nearly 9 per cent. It was time to concentrate on what I’d come here for; to prove to myself that I am good enough because, at the end of the day, all that matters is what you think of yourself.

There were only about 25 of us left in the group at this point and no breakaway up the road as the early move had been caught. We had one more long climb to go and then we were onto the finishing circuits.

I knew before the race that if I could make it onto the circuit still in the front of the race I could do something as only climbers would really still be there.

My teammate, who had been in the breakaway from the start, had just been caught. We assessed the situation; three of us from our team. There was only one other team with the same manpower.

Although my just recaptured team mate was an empty man, depleted of reserves, you could see it in his eyes; he said he had one more effort left in him.

He rode hard, and I mean hard, into the bottom of the next climb and most the way up it until he pulled off, a spent force. I attacked straight away.

I hadn’t planned it but when you have good legs you tend to just go. I didn’t get a proper gap, it was too soon. I should have known that.

Something one of my old trainers taught me came to mind: ‘A bike race is won with 50 per cent legs and 50 per cent brain’. I cursed myself for being so impatient but I was still in a good position and still feeling like there was fuel in the tank.

As we crested this final mountain before the circuits, rain began to fall. This is all I remember of this race.

What followed was a sequence of terrifyingly lucky minutes. By all accounts the other team with three riders in the group was determined to further split our already small group on the descent. However, their bravado, panache and crazy descending would result in five riders ending up in hospital, myself included.

I crashed on the final bend of the descent and cracked the occiptial bone in my skull.

If you touch the curved part at back of your head; that’s the part I broke. I was out cold for nearly 15 minutes.

I can certainly say I was lucky. I would not be here today if it weren’t for my DS Nico and the French medical system. So thank you. 

But the beautiful part is that while this was one of the luckiest days of my life all I can remember of it is that ecstatic feeling of racing my bike; descending, good sensations and gliding over the climbs. 

Sometimes it’s best to just remember the good things. 

Conn

Update

Thankfully I now have the hard yards of my recovery process done. All that remains at this point is rest and rehab. I’m off the painkillers and should be able to get back on the turbo trainer soon. So in 2021 my goal is to feel like I did that day on the bike. It’s that simple. 

I’d obviously like to show of the Irish national TT champs jersey on a pro team, but with nearly 100 WorldTour riders out of a job it looks like there just isn’t any space for me to move up a level. I will not give up on that dream just yet though. It’ll happen if it’s meant to be.