Today was the first really low point of the 'training', such that it has been. Don't get me wrong - the first few longer rides have been tough, but this was a new low.
To date, there had been a couple of rides to Box Hill and back (stopping at the top for the obligatory date slice and cup of tea) and a ride to Bray and back (albeit the next day), via Windsor Great Park. The ones through Bray had been on my own, too, without fellow cycling rookie Clare - and whilst I didn't get too lost, I fear I did cycle along a number of private roads. Ah well.
The rides had been getting better - I was confidently nodding at other road cyclists as if to say "Look. Now I am one of you" (as they shot past me), I was falling out of my cleats less often (at this point I should apologise to the driver of the dark blue BMW near Kingston on to which I fell once) and I had even managed to get up Crocknorth Road (a nasty hill near East Horsley) without stopping. Today, though, was just miserable.
There were a number of issues: first, it was Easter Monday. Second, it was absolutely chucking it down. Third, we had such an early start that the gates of Wimbledon Park (through which I cycle to get to Putney) had not yet been opened. Or at least some of them hadn't been opened. The ones I enter by were open, the ones I (usually) leave by were not. By the time I realised this, I already running late to meet Clare, and her husband Luke, for our Easter Monday training ride. I shot round to the other side of the park to see if a third gate was open (it wasn't) taking a corner way too fast in the meantime, sending my bike one way, and me the other. A classy way to damage both knuckles and previously-in-pristine-condition handlebars.
After dusting myself off, I finally made it to Richmond Park where Clare and Luke had been patientially waiting in the pouring rain. As you would expect, I vastly exaggerated the nature of the crash (including details about swerving to avoid a kitten) to justify my lateness. I'm not entirely sure they were convinced.
The ride started off OK - we got about half way to Windsor Great Park before part of Luke's disc brakes detached itself from his bike sending him on a long diversion to Walton-on-Thames to find a bike shop whilst Clare and I pushed on to Windsor. Even by this point it had been raining for a long time and we were all getting quite chilly. The circuit of WGP was suitably picturesque, and we managed to find Luke in Staines on our way back.
On leaving Staines I discovered I had a slow puncture. We pumped this up, and cycled on. A little further down the road, I realised it wasn't as slow as I had thought. In truth, it could be described as a moderately fast puncture. The tire was flat, it was raining, we were all freezing and my tyres are a real pain to change. At this point I bailed out, walking (further than expected) back to the train station in Staines and getting the train home (Clare and Luke cycled on). I was starting to shiver by the time I got to Staines, and I have never been so glad to have packed a drybag with a spare top in it. The dry clothes stopped the worst of the shivering, but I was nonetheless hugely relieved to get home for hot tea and a warm shower.
Not a good day, but some useful lessons learned:
1. Taking corners at speed in the wet is rarely a good idea;
2. I need some way of keeping my feet dry and/or warm;
3. As two, for my hands;
4. Dry clothes, this time round, were a real comfort. I realise that very few of my 'fellow' road cyclists carry a rucksack, but this time it really worked out for me. I will think on this point further.
5. Being able to change my tyres quickly would be really quite useful.
Time to the Pink Panther ride: About a month.
Confidence: Was improving. Has taken quite a kicking today.
