This week, I ticked off one of my resolutions, which was to get back on my track bike. Riding on a velodrome is one of my favourite forms of cycling; even after stopping and starting a couple of times of the past ten years, it's still as exhilarating as the first time I tried it out.
I live in Alice Springs, a town of less than 30,000 people but endowed with quite remarkable sporting facilities. The velodrome is one such venue. It's a 333-metre concrete track with 37 degree bankings, and has been known as one of the fastest outdoor tracks in the southern hemisphere - most likely due to the warm, dry air.
Jumping on my bike, I felt a little apprehensive; it had been a couple of years since I last rode the fixed-wheel, brakeless bicycle required for track cycling. I hugged the inner apron for my first couple of laps, sizing up the steepness of the curves. My most recent lot of track was on an indoor, timber velodrome, with 45-degree slippery bankings, which required a reasonable momentum to stay upright and not slide down the boards (speaking from experience, ahem...).
I soon discovered that the concrete surface was a lot more grippy than I expected, and sheepishly rolled up onto the track itself and pedalled around to get a feel for it.
It made me remember what it is that I love about track - now, and back when I was training and racing more seriously. It's cycling at its purest. The energy you expel through the pedals is immediately transferred into speed. The bikes are simple. Zipping around the bends and swooping down onto the sprint line is a thrill.
I think I probably felt a lot faster than I looked, and my fitness has a lot to be desired, but I'll be going back for more. I'm hooked on track. (Again).
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