I reposted this picture today ‘for the lols’, as I put it, when it came up on my Facebook feed as being 5 years ago. Before I reposted I did think to myself, ‘this is so embarrassing’. For starters, my helmet wasn’t fitting properly and was on the wonk, I seemed to have lost both of my gloves, and sunglasses, and god only knows what was in one of those drinks bottles. And the drinks bottles weren’t matching, a big no no for a cyclist. Sorry fellow comrades. I was riding my trusty Boardman, my first full carbon road bike and was wearing Livestrong (Lance Armstrong campaign) shorts that I still have to this day because they are so comfortable and I can’t ditch them despite their holes and rather tainted brand associations. I then noticed the jersey I was wearing, it was for the London Ride Prudential 100 miles. I might just add that it was only ever white once (you’ll see why in a minute). It was at that point that I realized despite its comical value, that this picture was a very early part of my journey, it was in 2013. I remember the ride well. It was not long after I had started riding centuries and doing so by myself. It would have been in the days where I could run a marathon but was an avid cyclist and hadn’t yet fully pledged myself to triathlon. The route was fantastic, closed roads (a rarity for a cyclist) and I remember climbing Box Hill and actually enjoying it. There was still paint on the roads cheering on Team GB from 2012. However, it remains to this day one of the longest times I have taken to ride 100 miles. This wasn’t because of my fitness, it was because of the punctures. This was the day I had no less than 7. The most I have ever had in a ride and now thankfully ride tubeless which means it shouldn’t happen to that extent again. I spent most of my day by the side of the road fixing them, covered in grease, begging spare inner tubes off fellow riders, borrowing track pumps from people’s front lawn whom were stuck in their homes because of the closed roads, stealing gels and bars off people when I got hungry. I had just fixed the 5th or 6th, a rear one I believe, I stood up and was about to get back on the ‘bloody thing’ but then there was a huge whoosh and a very large pack of riders surrounding someone going past.
Who was that someone?
It was ‘Blobby’ Boris Johnson as I called him.
I was crestfallen. Boris had signed up as a challenge and nobody really thought he could ride a bike but yet he and his posse had just overtaken me whom had trained for weeks and had been putting their heart and soul into this day for hours. I carried on and soldiered to the end of the ride, with just one more puncture. I’d learnt to grind somehow but I’d learnt lessons about punctures that I will never forget. As a result I have puncture paranoia for life. There’s so many rides, miles and places I go on my bike but on this occasion I think this one is right to remember and its of little surprise that it’s still laughing stock in our house.
Blobby, oh Mr Blobby, your influence will spread throughout the land.
Let’s hear it for Mr Blobby…