Well that's four days of cycling finished. I think it'd be fair to say that it wasn't quite what I expected. When I first heard we were cycling the Thames Path I thought, great a chance to stop of at many pubs, have a few beers, do some nice relaxed cycling and generally relax. I wasn't alone in thinking this was what it would be like. The reality? Cycling 40 miles a day along a tow path is a lot harder than it sound. But in a good way.
Basically it was non-stop, hard cycling. Brilliant! Honestly, I really enjoyed it. It made me realise how going through a small amount of suffering makes the end rewards so much sweeter. When we arrived at the pub in the evening it was so much more satisfying having a couple of pints and a large meal knowing we'd fucking earnt it. My legs are very stiff now, but I'm actually getting some muscle definition on my legs! I can see calf muscles! My quads do exist! This is major stuff... No upper body definition yet, but that's good for cycling. No excess weight for those uphill stretches!
Speaking of hills.. I've gotta make sure I keep doing mountain biking up in Edinburgh. The rough up and down patches are so much fun on a bike. Going down a dusty hill at high speed over tree roots and jumping ditches is quite an experience and one I wanna do again. However, heading front wheel first into a metal pole isn't quite as fun... But I managed to stay upright! That's right, despite being a malco idiot I managed not to fall off my bike while it was moving, nor did I fall into the river. Shock and horror all around. That said, I maybe wasn't quite as proficient in front wheel control as other members of the party...
Those other members were Robert, Linda, Felicia and Simon, or as he was affectionately known: Fatboy, due to the weight of his bike. It was a chunky fucker. But we all got to the source, despite the suspicious looking cows surrounding it. It's a clump of rocks. Pretty unimpressive but it's the principal of the thing!
The only bad point was the abundance of stinging nettles lining some of the paths, especially the latter ones where we were basically going through fields and tiny paths. Our legs were red raw by the end of the third day. They're horrible fucking things, why do we need them? Surely even the most tree-hugging of hippies can't like stinging nettles? Surely? What possible use do they serve apart from to hurt people? They're ugly, painful and spread everywhere. It is now my task to find a scientist who can make a virus that wipes out stinging nettles. No one will care, in fact there will be much rejoicing. You know it makes sense.