Hardest race of my life. No doubt about it.
Was with the front half of the field each successive time it fractured (of which there was a lot!) - was there when the front 3 went and was getting back (later on) on to find another 8 or so had gone up the road to chase them. By that point we were about 120km or so in and the big boys still with us (which included Joel Person, surprisingly) were happy enough to let that be the break(s) of the day.
Then for some retarded reason there were MORE attacks after it had started sleeting! Such a ridiculous inability to form a second echelon once the first one hits the gutter, never mind the fact that by this point it was (or should have been) more about finishing than who you can drop - as there was only minor places left. Anyway, it was then that I lost contact (was about 180 or so gone) and limped into Camperdown at the 190km mark and pulled the pin.
I'm so, so shattered that I didn't make it. Even this morning I woke with a sick feeling in my stomach for not finishing
especially given the conditions before the race even started (will be interesting to see who gets a 'DNS' next to their name) and the conditions that I'd managed to endure up to that point.
When waiting for my lift to arrive it was over half an hour before the next bunch of about 8 or so riders came through - that's how far back the rest of the field was. And given Pollock won in close to 8 hours there's little chance they would make it in with less than 9 hours in the saddle.
What a day. Victoria certainly threw up some of the worst weather she could muster, that's for sure.