...more like it’s in the way.
So there I was, being passed by five year
olds on stabilisers but feeling great with it. But then I had an idea…why not cycle
to work? Sure you’ve only been back on a bike for a month or so. Sure, your
idea of speed has a tortoise looking in contempt at you but why not? Surely I
could do it?
So first I had to plan a route. Being on a
hybrid meant that I could veer off-road down tracks and bridle paths rather
than stick to the tarmac. So which
route?
The route I chose took me through a couple
of bridle paths, Nonsuch Park and onto the A232. I thought, hey that will be
fine! But I didn’t count on one-thing…hills.
When I mentioned this on Cyclechat, a local
lass on there said “What hills?” They may have not been hills to her, but to me
they were Cols. They were Alpine passes.
I see these towering mountains of doom,
these Everests, thinking of how on earth was a big fat bear meant to get
halfway up, let alone over the top…
Others see a speed hump.
So I did what I have done since the start
and hit the web. All of a sudden I was confronted by some really weird language
– cadence? Grinding? What on earth was everyone talking about?
As far as I could tell, all those cyclists
spinning like loons had not, unlike me, dropped down too many gears but were
increasing their spin – this is cadence. Good cadence is meant to mean good
climbing. Grinding was when you are in too big a gear and you slowly
pedal..your..way..up (I think...trust me, the gearing on bikes appears to be the reverse of cars!).
So I went on a practice run. After risking
limb at Chessington and a nice jaunt through Nonsuch Park, I hit the A232.
The one thing you will notice when you
start is that all these roads that appear flat, are not necessarily so.
There you are pedaling away but then you
suddenly start slowing down, So you push up a bit and you still slow down –
bugger, it’s an incline. But that’s OK. It will soon be over.
Not on this road. After the lights, there
is a slope up. Argh! And from a standing start. You push, you weave but, but, before
you know it, you’re at the top.
Amazing, King of the Hill. I can do this,
you think as you freewheel down the other side.
Of course what you forget is that a lot of
Surrey runs on ridges, that means ups as well as downs.
Just pass Sutton, there’s a hill that even
now can get to me. It doesn’t matter if you’ve managed to get your speed up on
the previous downhill, gravity is your mistress and boy is she angry. About half way up, my legs start moaning. I
am now standing, bobbing and weaving and thinking the chant that goes into
everyone who’s rubbish at hills' heads at this time: “Don’t stop, mustn’t walk.
Don’t stop, mustn’t walk…”
But you’re out the otherside. Again, that
elation when you haven’t stopped. Sure, you’re riding at 5mph, your legs are
now jelly, your heart is beating like the timpani section and Niagara falls
seems to have taken root in your helmet, but you’ve done it…until the next one.
Now, most of Ride London is fairly flat but
for a big lump like me, I have to start training to get past Pyrford, Leith
Hill, Box Hill and Wimbledon Hill. On top of that you have the ups and downs
round Oxshott which, although slight, can happily sap my legs.
Some people have asked why should they
sponsor me for cycling. After all, I cycle every day to work. But not only is
it 100 miles – and having to maintain a minimum of 11.8mph - but,
according to Sportive Cyclist I will be climbing 4,325 feet (1,318km).
And I seriously don’t like hills.
