So first, an admission.
The last couple of weeks have been a severe set back. Training ground to a halt, the diet took a bashing, and in general I’ve not been living the life of a weight loss cyclist. Moreover, I’ve been living at times like a hobo and at times like a king, depending on who I was spending time with.
Saturday would be a telling day, one way or another. I’d ride with the fastest group available, which turned out to be a medium group. We’d be following the Club 10 course to Belsay, at which point we’d ride the Hilly 21 course through Middleton, over Rothley Crags, down to Scot’s Gap and back through Middleton (up Middleton Bank).
Leaving Ponteland, I discovered fresh legs. I mean, properlly fresh. No fatigue, no stress, no aching - fresh as a loaf of foil wrapped bread. The group started quite slowly, ambling along the club 10 route at around 13-14mph. By the time we hit Belsay, I was feeling good. Not race good, but ready to push myself good.
Whilst the group itself wasn’t the strongest I’d been out on (no Adam Hogarth, no Bob Hollywell, no Bob Boak, no Roger Clarke, etc) it still had Kyle there to keep me honest, and the Scottish dude who used to race with Bradley Wiggins (sorry I can never remember his name). Up every climb I made it my aim to try and live with them as long as possible, and for the most part, I did. I’m no climber, I’m too heavy… the lightweight Kyle would always drop me, but I stuck with him as much as possible. To my utter surprise, I was up there, all day. Climbing was good - I mean, really good - I felt really, really strong!!!
Before the cafe stop, I’d have to tackle Middleton Bank. The Middleton Bank. That hill. The bastard. The one that gets me every time. The start of the climb there were riders half way up it (I’d been lagging at the back keeping Kerry company). Kerry ordered me away for the climb, so I attacked Middleton Bank and to my surprise, I climbed it well. I got a rhythm, I felt strong, and it wasn’t fighting back. The Bank was losing. I caught the riders who had been halfway up at the top. I’d totally owned Middleton Bank. Done. It’s mine. Next up: The Ryals. Those twin sister bitches.
However, Saturday wasn’t about me. Saturday was about someone special to me, Kerry. Kerry is a commuter, she rides a 2 ton Trek hybrid from Blyth to Newcastle almost every day, taking in some 150 miles a week. However, she admits herself that she’s no roady. Up until now, she’s been riding in the slow group, but on Saturday she rode with the medium group. She found it tough at times, but she pulled through and made everyone, particularly me, well proud. At the top of one climb that Kyle and I had disappeared up, we looked back and waited for the other riders. The first to peak the climb - Kerry. Apparently, my face was a picture. Well proud. Well done, Kerry.
So, that was Saturday. My climbing appears to be coming on. Training starts again tomorrow with an early morning turbo session. Can’t wait. After riding the Hilly 21 course, I know what I am up against. I know it’s going to hurt. I know I am going to struggle to beat the hour. But hell, I’m going to give it a bloody good go!