You may reel in your nemesis over many miles, watching intently through sweat-riven eyes as the mushroom that is their distant helmet increases in size from a Enoki to a Portobello.
Then when you've sat on their wheel and caught your breath, put on the act, as the practice dictates. Smash past while whistling, checking your phone, or absent-mindedly chewing on a piece of grass ... only to be brought out of your reverie by the sound of your own name.
BONUS TIP: Now you need to abandon the entirely made-up melodrama of the daily race, and behave like an adult, making cheerful, witty conversation for the remainder of the ride. Curses.