Pedal to Podium

This morning started earlier than usual thanks to Justin’s packed schedule. My skills coach and I were set to meet at 9am, and with a three-hour ride already on my training plan, I had to get creative. The solution? Combine my commute with the session. Riding the 20km from my house to Ferntree meant leaving at 7:30am, which felt a bit cruel but also oddly satisfying—it’s not often I’m that productive before 8am.

I rolled into Ferntree bang on 9am, nailing my predicted pacing (a rare victory for my usually terrible time management). After a quick chat, Justin and I headed down the quiet, tree-lined road to Neika. The crisp Tasmanian morning made for perfect riding conditions—apart from the slightly wet roads that reminded me of the descent still to come.

Justin wanted to focus on paceline drills, a technique where riders take turns at the front of a group, maintaining a high speed while the others draft behind. The key is smoothness and communication: the lead rider peels off to let the next take over, like a carefully orchestrated relay. In theory, it’s brilliant. In practice, I was struggling to get the timing and transitions right. The added complexity of maintaining speed, watching Justin’s wheel, and avoiding collisions kept my brain working overtime. Still, it was fun, even when I messed up. The whole point of these sessions is to learn, and I was definitely learning (mostly how not to do it).

After looping back to Ferntree, Justin suggested we tackle the climb to The Springs, a steady ascent that’s just tough enough to make coffee at the top feel well-earned. The Springs is a little hub on kunanyi/Mount Wellington, and it’s home to the Lost Freight café—a tiny, welcoming spot serving up the kind of coffee that makes every climb worthwhile. Sitting there with a hot cup in hand, the chilly air still biting at my fingers, I felt that familiar sense of contentment only cyclists know: the mix of fatigue and achievement, fuelled by caffeine and the promise of a descent ahead. The Lost Freight crew always create such a great atmosphere, and I couldn’t help but linger for a few minutes longer than planned.

But all good things must come to an end, and so we began the descent back down. The road was steep, rough, and made even trickier by the wet conditions, but I was genuinely pleased with how I handled it. While I wasn’t flying down at warp speed, I felt comfortable and in control, which is a big step forward for me. Descending is one of those things that takes time to master, and today felt like progress.

After saying goodbye to Justin at the bottom, I continued downhill to my parents’ house, where the weather decided to really turn against me. The rain came in hard and fast, leaving me drenched by the time I arrived. Tasmania, in all its soggy glory.

The rest of the day was a blur of normality—household chores, cooking dinner, and preparing for another nightshift. Reflecting on the session, I felt a mix of exhaustion and pride. Pacelines may still be my nemesis, but I’m chipping away at them. And honestly, mornings like these—filled with challenging skills, great coffee, and a bit of rain—are what make training so rewarding.