8.

This is it. The winning move. You leap out of the saddle and mash down on the pedals as hard as you possibly can, desperate to bridge across to the dangerous Van Vleuten. Others are trying to do the same and for a time it looks like a small group will form around the world champion. But then, one by one, each of the chasers succumb to the unrelenting gradients of the Kanarieberg — and Van Vleuten’s infernal tempo — and fall off the pace. All except for you.

Somehow, despite your earlier exertions, you manage to hold your effort all the way to the top. With the taste of blood in your mouth, and your legs and lungs on fire, you reach Van Vleuten’s wheel just as the road starts to flatten out. You steal a glance behind and realise that the pair of you have a sizeable gap and that this could be your ticket to victory.

For the next four kilometres you and the world champion roll turns, she doing it as easily as she might on a training ride, you at your absolute limit after the efforts it took to get there. It becomes clear that this isn’t a sustainable strategy.

Sure enough, as soon as you hit the base of the Taaienberg, Van Vleuten is surging away again. One metre, two metres, five metres — the gap keeps opening. You’ve blown up completely. There’s nothing left in the tank.

You sit up and take a moment to rest and prepare yourself to latch onto the next group that comes through. But when it does, you quickly realise you’ve got no chance. You’re caught and promptly spat out the back, having paid the price for your hard riding earlier. The same thing happens as the next group closes in.

You’re left to grovel through the final 40 km alone and finish in an unremarkable 39th place.

THE END