The flag drops and the days racing begins. I make no moves to go with the early breakaways, knowing that I will be instantly chased by a number of guys. I’m going to need the energy later on. The rest of the squad are nervous and I can see them looking for me periodically, still can’t tell what they will do when I attack. The breakaway moves away and everything relaxes down to a normal pace.

Halfway comes round after a bit more than an hour. Time to make a move. Coming off a tight hairpin onto the riverside I accelerated around the outside of the road. It’s easy to open up a small gap, then a bit more and a bit more. I’m waiting to see what the team will do; the front of the peloton is waiting for their reaction. Those seconds stretch out… A thousand thoughts flood into my head… Waiting to see the reaction…

And it comes. The gap had only grown to about 50meters when they moved forwards. We all had our answer, Node4 were going to chase me. And if they were going to chase, then I was going to run!

At the end of every lap I did the same move, accelerating around the outside of the hairpin. Every time I went, one of the Node4 guys moved into chase me down. It was pattern that covered the next 30km or so. An acceleration, then a chase, quick break, and repeat, and repeat, and repeat.

I wish I could have heard what Malcolm was saying over the radio, but I tore the earpiece out as we rolled away at the start. I liked to imagine him yelling at the others to chase me down, getting angry and confused. I hoped the seeds of doubt were being sown in their minds about him. Somehow this had become incredibly personal to me. So these emotions will become my fuel.

The breakaway was caught much earlier as result of our duel. This sparked a wider interest in the peloton. The other teams knew that Rowe would most likely win the sprint so they were now interested in my attacks for a new reason. If they could get enough power away with me perhaps the stage win was in reach.

So with about 8km to go, I of course accelerated again. Except this time some riders came with me, strong riders as well. Dowsett, Clancy, Vermote and Offredo took the risk. But simply put I could not follow them, I could not turn the pedals. Slowly I dropped backwards, past the rest of the team, into the heart of peloton.

The podium ceremony must have been disrupted. Figuring out exactly whether I was classified took some time. I crossed the line in the bunch, about 30� behind breakaway winner Clancy, and signed all the paperwork, took the anti-doping tests. According to the rules I finished 4th, I just didn’t show for the ceremonials.

I couldn’t help but think back to that day in Munich. I had just turned and walked away from the squad mid-race. But this time I was done. I had no more obligations to stay, the Tour was my final race of the season and my contract was now over. The feeling of freedom was refreshing. No more would I have to deal with Malcolm, and that is good indeed.

If only emotions were that simple. The guilt ran deep. Marcin, Lucy, Phil… It was all becoming overwhelming, I need an escape. This is why I’m here wandering the streets of London searching for that escape. One idea sticks in my mind, but it almost scares me. The last time is still too fresh.

*ring* *ring* *ring* “Hello? Karl? Where are you? I was expecting you back after the race, and.. well.. It’s been a few days now. Just drop me a line when you get the chance. It’s Phil by the way�

*ring* *ring* *ring* “Karl! We’re getting worried now. Just contact us, please Karl. We are all waiting, Phil, Sarah, Marcin. Come on Karl, just do something.�

*beep* *beep* “You have 12 new messages. Press 1 to listen. Press 2 to delete. Press 3 to… Messages deleted� *beep*

“Mr. Hammarling it’s great to see you again. If you need any help settling in just let us know ok.�

Chicago… it feels such a long way from home…

Ian Butler wrote:
Wow. Has been a great act. Can't wait for the rest.
Though I'm a bit confused about what went down at Tour of Britain, who won the overall GC now?

Ian Butler wrote:
Curious what Act 2 will bring.
But Tour of Britain was one of the best races in the history of story writing on PCM.Daily!

The UK is always known for being wet. Most of the time it’s just down as a joke, but it is wet a lot back there. Did not think that Chicago would be wet. The USA stuck in my head as sunny and warm, not this wet and cold. Certainly has made training that much harder, as if it wasn’t hard enough to begin with.

I can still get myself out on the bike most days, but the length and intensity is lower than I would like. It is just about trying to keep the fitness at a decent level during the off-season. Real training won’t kick off until 2015 with the rest of the squad, and that’s still a couple of months off yet. For now it’s all about settling into my new place and setting.

My apartment is nice. It’s spacious and modern, with a massive TV! Lots of shiny surfaces and all the equipment and bits I could ever think of needing. All very nice and I really do thank Motorola for helping sort it out for me. Just, it’s missing something… It’s almost too big, it echoes.

At times I’ve got the urge to call back to Stoke and speak to Phil. It’s no longer the problem of having to tell him, but now I’m stopped by the shame of running away. And it’s not just Phil but the whole team, people like Luke, Marcin and Lucy. It would have been nice to bring one or two of them with me but I’ll have to get used to it.