As most of you know my trip to Kazakhstan (basically, for anyone with an Irish passport) was a disaster as we got the sh*t end of the stick!
This blog might be all over the place but that's the way my head is at this minute. I was always of the opinion that commissaries were a lower form of human being but that's harsh. They are just enforcing the rules for a lower form of human being and definitely not from a cyclist who has ever ridden an elimination race. It was a 1 day old rule that caught me out and goes against sportsmanship in my eyes. No warnings, no slap on the wrist just kicked out! Disqualification for a small human error on my part resulted in the harshest punishment I've ever received in cycling. That decision made by some suit somewhere is so much bigger than he or she will ever know. On my part and for everyone that has supported me it could be the deciding factor in the story of my life for the last 2 years. When it happened my life was over, all sorts of bad scenarios rushed into head and it took me ages and some friendly supportive voices to change my thinking. As I sit here now I've run through the what if's, when's and maybes and hope the last 2 days can be a good deciding factor in my career as a cyclist, that extra couple of percent that moves me into the top tier in track cycling. Even typing this now I have a fire in my belly and am keen to put a firm 2 fingers up to the pencil pusher that flicked a switch in my head, maybe I'll thank him some day, Ya never know!
If you've just read this and thought, "what the hell is he rambling on about," then obviously ya don't know me that well or what I've been trying to do for 1/5th of my life! There's plenty of places to find out what happened but forgive me if I don't go into the details right now.