I have been riding more lately. It’s not been easy. It involves a painfully slow pace and a horrid experience, a sense that I’m not in the easiest cog when I have been for ages and it’s still only a false flat. In summary, i find it an undignified experience.
I rode towards the Mendips on Sunday. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across a sportive. It was like I’d never been away. All I can say is if you’re struggling to ride and carting a few extra pounds around the midriff, then mixing it with the sportivistes on Blagdon Hill does wonders for the self-esteem. Even at a staggeringly low speed I managed a healthy dose of chopper-drops. My increase in confidence was dented slightly by a failure to get away from a really big chap who clung on up Rhodyate. At least he was wearing club kit.
Back to the drawing board. More miles, less food.