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@dancing james
[ame]http://connect.garmin.com/activity/117775601[/ame]
Sunday's jaunt on the road bike with Tom.
We had had a great day on Saturday off road so decided to have another ride but on tarmac. Tom planned a route to Brighton and loaded it to his satnav and we agreed to meet at Putney on Sunday morning.
I did not have my usual pre long ride meal of porridge, and this was probably my first of many fails for the day. Got on the train at Putney to East Croydon, to avoid the south London junk miles. Getting off the train I needed a pee - my old man bladder was in full effect before we had even started.
Off we set, and immediately had a climb coming straight outta croydon (Mamils With Attitude). I tend to need 45 minutes to get the legs turning and heart pumping, but no such luck. Tom was in energetic spirits, I clearly needed more sleep. My internal dialogue was whingeing from the outset.
The route choice was entirely new to me and after 10 miles I was starting to wonder if it was going to be uphill all the way to Brighton, though at 15 miles things changed and we hit a rather steep descent. It almost felt like an MTB drop in, but the fun of it was slightly curtailed by not having a clue of the twists and turns, gravel on the road and people riding horses, do they pay road tax?
I must apologise to Tom. He put up with my complaining and piss poor mood all day, and it never really improved. I just had nothing in the tanks, could not hold a wheel, decent cadence or do anything useful. I even had to stop for a massive feast of sugary shit somewhere, my nutrition for the day was a realm of fail, but as my head started to feel light and my perspective narrowed I knew that sugars were required.
There came a wonderful point when Tom. told me we were approaching Ditchling. I asked if he was sure and he was adamant. I loathe energy gels but given my form decided to use the reserve power source so took the fruit flavour jizz solution. I gagged a little but thought it would be worthwhile. From our Swinley jaunts I know that Tom's sense of direction is as piss poor as mine.
"Just approaching Ditchling?" we were a mere 15 miles away! By the time we got there I was a spent force, Tom set off at decent pace and I tortoised up. Doing the lead out and push into the wind had taken its toll on Tom and we ended up cresting the hill about 5 seconds apart (he was first).
The drop into Brighton was not as fast as it could be, the days headwind was vicious there too.
On the waterfront we went to Tom's Diner (well not Tom's but a sort of Ed's Diner clone) and proceeded to have monstrous milkshakes and burgers.
Tom decided to ride back, i was in no fit state and took the train. Clearly the preceding day's ride and some of my personal stresses of late had just taken it all out of me. I do want to do the route again and his return leg too, perhaps being a little forewarned would make it more pleasurable. In the evening Schick was asking me where I had been, and I could not remember a single town we had passed through. The day had been all grind and no pleasure.
The joy of the day consisted in burgers and shakes, the shower once home and sleeping like a log.
So it was not much fun, but fuck yeah, I would do it again.
Tom. was a marvel on the day, letting me talk, complain and being incredibly understanding. I am sorry for my less than gracious conduct on the day.