I don’t like riding uphill

1 day, 12 hours, 55 minutes, to go.

"Are you doing the Wild Wales this year?"
"No, I don't like hills."
"But you are riding the Fred Whitton - that doesn't make sense?"

No, no it doesn't.

This weekend I head off up to the Lake District for bit of an adventure. Butterflies in my tummy - but heading off with a group of about 15 cycling club mates to arrive, head out for food together, sleep, and then by all accounts what I expect to be the hardest and most painful day on a bike that I have ever experienced (...and I have been riding at a club level for over 20 years).... oh, and I am not confident I will be able to complete the course either.

As you can appreciate  - this does not fill me with a sense of joy - but one of foreboding.

However - still I am going. There must be something wrong with me. To be fair, athletes we are not, so I take solace in the fact I am not alone... there must be a lot of faulty thinking going on.

"If you want interesting things to happen, do interesting things" - as I read this week - while unrelated, it made me think. Somewhere between that and the "Plan B: Cancer to Corsica" film - there is a truth - a 'good pain' - a knowing you are alive - meeting great people who get that, people from all walks of life - no matter what you're riding... you are there... you are feeling the same pain (although it may be at different speeds). I guess it is about stretching yourself, putting yourself to the test... to grow, to learn, it's okay to fail - hell, its a written down, paid up, in the book requirement.

So whatever the weekend brings - here is to the people - the scenery - the banter... and how much I am going to be cursing your name Fred Whitton.

*I still dislike riding uphills.

Oh - and I signed up for the Wild Wales.

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