Boy, you're gonna carry that weight

So I have the bike, I have some gear – let’s get going…

But what do I take with me? To the interweb we go!!

So, as far as I could work out I needed some water and some substance like jelly beans to keep me going.

Stopping off at the local shop, I picked up a bottle of water that was big enough for the bottle carrier that came with the bike, and some jelly beans.

Then I packed my rucksack with the waterproof, puncture repair kit, two locks, two inner tubes, a pump, my phone, my wallet, the kitchen sink…

As I said, I had never done this. The fact that I was not going to be stopping (in theory) and it was a round trip did not stop me from lunking around a D-lock and cable lock, no siree.

As yes locks…

What do you do with your bike?

In my village, the trust had reached a point that the local police had had to write in the local magazine pleading with cyclists to actually lock their bikes up when popping into the local shop. I liked that about the village. It was the village that I grew up and then returned as a father and it had retained that part of the charm of growing up that alas was slowly disappearing even  here as the police had more and more bike thefts to deal with.

One of the things that people fail to realise is that the two most effective forms of theft prevention for bikes are 1) make it a pain for a thief to nick your bike which as a result b) makes your bike less attractive than another.

Bike thieves are, in the main, opportunists and do not like inconvenience so D-locks and another lock or two are very preventative.  You have a choice of being a pain in the butt to thieves or get Batman to patrol your area.

So, rucksack bungeed onto the rack and water forced into holder I was set to go.

After half a mile or so, I was beginning to realise something – I was cycling five miles. The last time I cycled five miles it killed me. Would I have enough fluid and fuel? Could I do this? Would I be found collapsed in a sweaty pile by the roadside, melting away in a puddle of unfitness?

I pushed on…

About another half mile after that I realized something else – why the hell have I brought all this stuff with me? Why take a puncture repair kit for five miles? Just either pump the wheel and limp home or if I couldn’t, put a new tube in and repair at home. Why take both?

And the locks. What on earth was I doing lugging these locks around when I wasn’t planning to stop anywhere?

I had a revelation...no matter how useful that kit maybe, just maybe, all that extra weight…only…slows…you…down.

Especially the kitchen sink!

Looking the part

Now, I’m going to be frank here. I live on the Ride 100/Olympic route and every single damn weekend, you see hoards of Mamils (Middle-Aged-Men-In-Lycra) on their two-grand bikes and eight-man pelotons, clad in Rafa grimacing their way to and from the Surrey Hills.

Despite being in my forties, I was determined not to be like ‘that lot’. So at first, cotton t-shirts, cargo shorts and adventure sandals were my kit. I was wearing a second-hand helmet  from the bike seller and had bought a second-hand rack to bungee my rucksack to.

I was off.

But here’s the thing – there’s a reason why people riding more than 10 miles generally wear lycra – it’s very good at regulating heat.

And with lycra came a term that in my cotton rugby jersey playing days we had never heard off – wicking.

No it’s not about making baskets, wicking takes moisture, or sweat as we used to say in the day, away from the body so you don’t sit there in your own damp like I was doing with a cotton T.

To be honest, I hadn’t got round to buying a top but Aldi had a cycling special – I’ll talk about these in another post – so my mother in law got me some lycra shorts and a top.

Now wicking works when it is close to the body so I levered my way into the gear.

Now, those of you that cycle – be honest. We all hope that after we put on the lycra, we all look like superheroes, racing gods, kings of the track and rulers of the road…

The reality is somewhat different.

All your bulges and bumps, bear bellies and chins are all to see…

There is no hiding place at all…