the mortgage), but it has proved harder than expected. The racing habit isn't easy to break, especially during summer when the form feels good. But it has made me consider what life would be like without racing and competing. There's a respect and mutual admiration from your fellow competitors that would be hard to give up -- and something I suspect those who never take part in competitive events struggle to understand. How else could they sit and watch the GB team ride on the front of the men's road race for 240km and still accuse them of not trying hard enough? When watching athletes compete, and especially the British with the weight of the nation's expectation bearing down on them, the knowledge that four years of dedicated hard work is either going to come to fruition or be flushed down the toilet, I wonder how they possibly cope with the nerves and pressure. I have huge respect for how they're able to hold it together -- I'm practically in bits lining up for the club's annual hill climb. That's why it heartens me to see comments like those from Cancellara , or from Rebecca Adlington (who 'only' managed to win bronze when gold was expected) -- they're just happy to be there, to compete, to enter into the spirit of competition. We should never forget just how exceptional these athletes are, even the ones who finished fourth or 29th. So few of the thousands of athletes will return from