Tough lark this training. I knew I needed to bag a century ride but I’m not sure doing it in hot sunshine with little training. Still nothing ventured, nothing pained…and damn my legs hurt today.

This weeks partner in grime was Rix. Ridiculously fit and far to bloody chirpy we set off with my 3 litres of varying liquids, 6 gels, 2 pork pies and 2 eccles cakes. Rix had half a bottle of squash and a chipper outlook.

Sparing the gory detail, we headed toward the Ironman Weymouth bike loop to get an idea of what was in store. Some beautiful little villages called Piddle-this and Puddle that floated by and then we hit a few Dorset rollers. We knew there were 2 decent hills on the loop and made the mistake of getting our hopes up after a gentle rise….1 down?  Wrong….the next was a horrible grindy long hill. The speed down the other side at over 40mph was good fun, but didn’t give the legs time to recover.

I shuffled hands and bum around all over the place to try to mix things up and ate enough to feed a family of four so no real risk of bonking. So what did I learn?

I learnt that I’m destined to puncture every bloody ride. 1 puncture.

I learnt that if you feel something fly in your helmet you should pull over and not try to fish it out with a finger. 1 stung forehead.

beesting
Stinging insects don’t like sharing the view

I learnt not to trust Rix’s sense of direction. I’m sure his butler normally plans his routes as we spent 10 minutes trying to find the sea in Bournemouth.

We stopped a few times, we didn’t hammer it round and the last 20 miles was hard work, but at least I know it’s doable.

Enjoy the route here…I didn’t!

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