Training Ride One

I put in a perfect pre first training ride preparation watching the South Africa v England rugby world cup around at David Lees house. A balanced intake of sausages and mash, runny cheese and cake, washed down with multiple beers, a bottle of red and a visit to the pub for a few pints of Guinness and half a packet of cigarettes. Returned home to find Elizabeth and Tina still up and found myself having a further three glasses of red to make sure I had properly done a number on myself.

Strangely enough I awoke at 6.30am to the dulcet tones of Harry, feeling less than refreshed. After choking down a few panadol and drinking copious amounts of water all morning, I began to think the challenge of my first ride was not beyond me. Mind you, the reaction I received from Tina and Liz when I had put on my new riding kit was not one of wholesome support, not unless they were laughing at something other than me, clad top to toe in body hugging lycra. I began to fear that my new found confidence might be misplaced.

Determined to ignore their taunts I went for a quick ride around the block to accustom myself to riding in proper bike pedals and of equal importance to remind myself of the mechanics of a bike. This presented two problems – first of all it took me at least five minutes to get my feet into my new pedals, which I only prayed was a practice issue. More worryingly I couldn’t work out how to change down the gears and was faced with the prospect of having to admit my complete riding incompetence to Andrew even before we set off.

Once Andrew arrived and I confessed my ignorance in the use of the new gears, he provided a quick tutorial, which made blinding sense and we set off with the giggles of Liz and Tina ringing in my ears. Obviously Andrew was not convinced I was going to survive the gentle first ride and he decided to take me around the block first, which was a good idea as it enabled me to sort out gear changing and adjust my seat to the right height before we set off on the ride proper.

The route for the day was a loop from Pebworth to Chipping Campden and back. All seemed to go reasonably well for the first 30 minutes as we travelled along a series of gentle inclines and descents enabling me to get a feel for the bike and assess how much puff I had that day. Unfortunately I was soon to realise that Andrew was a master of the understatement as he told me to take a left up a very unassuming road, which somewhat worryingly appeared to disappear up a hill. As soon as we reached the first part of the incline Andrew drifted past me, chatting quite happily and oblivious to the look of consternation and concern on my face, informing me glibly that I shouldn’t worry as it flattens out at the top. He singularly failed to tell old fat boy that there was another kilometre to the top and a 12% incline in between. Rest assured, 12% may not seem a lot to non riders, but to a novice who was just reacquainting himself with a trusty treadly, it looked as steep as the north face of K1. As I watched aghast as Andrew remained seated and disappeared in front of me as if he was riding on the flat – no unnecessary energy expended and keeping everything neat and tidy. Behind him my breaths were coming in ever erratic gasps and the concept of remaining similarly seated to Andrew was a forlorn one. I quickly gave up trying and stood up and vainly started pedalling up this mountainous of slopes. Sadly even going to such lengths was no guarantee of achieving the required go forward and my progress gradually became more of a weave, than a ride. Despite all efforts to resist the temptation to stop, my progress had almost ground to a halt and my breathing was all over the shop, so with a despairing grunt I conceded defeat on my first climb and walked the remaining 250m to the top of the steepest part of the incline where I found Andrew waiting patiently and probably with a look of exasperation that he had picked such a lemon of a training partner, although to be fair I was too stuffed to notice.

The remainder of the ride was less stressful and involved a few very enjoyable descents – clearly my favoured direction on a bike. By the time we made it back to home we had covered 25 miles and I had already begun to forget the horrors of the hill and start seeing it as an excellent training opportunity. How wrong am I?