Today I raced

With 45 minutes of racing it would seem odd that my day would be defined by the last few minutes, but this is the beauty of the Super Quaich format. I'd taken a couple of laps to really settle into the conditions, by which time I'd slipped a little bit. But gradually I'd moved my way a little way up the field, and by mid-race found myself seeing the same riders around me.
Parts of the course suited others better, but (something I never thought I'd say) I was running strongly today. It was on the second last lap that I realised this, thinking maybe I should try running the last zig-zags before the tarmac finish, and it might be quicker. I did, and it was. I'd shouldered the bike, and found myself passing the Peebles rider I'd spent the last couple of laps trading places a few times, but generally being behind. And so a plan formulated for the last lap.
The bell rang and as usual I lost distance on the climb. But not to worry, I could just about hold the distance through the trees, and down to the first section of running. I didn't go all out here, figuring I just needed to be in touch, and saw we were both catching an Ayr Burner. I didn't know if we were lapping, or just reeling in, but figured it gave added incentive if I deemed him the latter.
There I was alongside, knowing I had a line through the next tight turns that could keep me thereabouts. The uphill slog dropped me back again, then the second run up went well, and before two 180 degree turns I slipped in front. I knew then I could have a breather as I couldn't be passed (ooh, tactical). Off camber I hate, and was passed again, and lost ground to both as we hit the flat and muddy.
Hurdles fine, but still losing ground as we pedal. They've 20 yards on me as we get into the really gloopy last zig zags. The bike hits the shoulder, and I sprint. Ayr Burner is passed in the first section, Peebles is riding, but wheels seem to spin after the turn. Time to hammer it. I can't breathe, but I know it's only another few yards, then I can swing right, and if I can remount safely it's a sprint to the line.
Bang, back in the saddle, and I'm in too spinny a gear. Thankfully they're still sweet, and I click up 3 or 4 in quick succession, get out of the saddle, and stamp. A couple of looks behind, and after taking a 20 yards deficit into the mud, I've come out with 20 yards in my favour.
Crossing the line feels fucking awesome, even though I need more than a few minutes leaning over the front of the bike to recover. I've just come 59th in the slow race, but I've won my own personal battle. Even if the other guys never even knew they were in it. And THAT is the beauty of the Quaich. Today I raced.
This longer daily commute must be working.