6am, Sunday morning.  The city sleeps, but you’re awake dreaming of winning the bunch sprint 1km from the café.  “Click.  Click.”  The first climb of the day looms.  Protesting leg muscles battle with heaving lungs, contrasting with the silent break of daylight kissing the mist which hangs over the horizon.  On Monday, you’ll be another citizen of the world.  But right now, lycra is your Superman cape. We know, because we ride.