"Time trials are about maintaining a constant pace, like a continuous hum. But they are also about pain, an agonising heat you feel in your stomach, a burning that affects your breathing. You get into a rhythm, and when the pain comes, you tunnel into it, exploring it to the bitter end.
"What with the discomfort and the heat some riders cross the finish line and throw their helmet down. I don't even think about it: it's all part of the same ache. From top to bottom, front to back, I gather it into a smooth ball of pain that spins around in my mind until the time trial is over – pain in my muscles, a burning in the sole of my feet, an aching in my wrists, a stabbing in my neck from holding my head in one position. There isn't a second to relax and stretch, or move my hands. I have to go on in the same position. If I want to spit, I do it by twisting my mouth sideways – tuh! – to avoid moving my head. I fix my eyes on an arbitrary landmark – a tree, a point on a curve – and I say, Until I get there, I'm not going to change position. And before I get there, I fix another point …"
Colombian rider Victor Hugo Peña's description of a time trial in Matt Rendell's book A Significant Other.