They weren't even real hills either, just little nubbins in Cheshire.
I've learned from bitter experience to keep the fuck away from my bike when a wild cold appears. It's like a D&D stacking spell or something, you put on your Gloves Of Sickening +2, your shoes of Throat Agony +3, your Base Layer of Snot +12, then wield your Bicycle Of Fatigue +5 and 30 mins later you want to crawl into a ditch and die, and it doesn't get any better when you wise up and go home for a sulk in front of the telly either.
I've learned from bitter experience to keep the fuck away from my bike when a wild cold appears. It's like a D&D stacking spell or something, you put on your Gloves Of Sickening +2, your shoes of Throat Agony +3, your Base Layer of Snot +12, then wield your Bicycle Of Fatigue +5 and 30 mins later you want to crawl into a ditch and die, and it doesn't get any better when you wise up and go home for a sulk in front of the telly either.