Well, I hope so. After eight months of cycling, the day has finally arrived. I think it'll go well, but there are times when you just know that the Cycling Gods don't want you to proceed - as my last training ride proved.
My last ride was meant to have been at least a 60 miler. I intended to head up to Oxford then either carry on towards Banbury, or head back to Wallingford. However, several things queued up to militate against this. First, it started tipping down - no problem, I've pedalled through rain before. Then it started hailing. Nice. After that, a large pothole while going downhill that gave me one hell of a jolt. And then, Cows. A herd of them. With calves. And a bull. I encountered them in a field just outside Radley,through which NCN route 5 runs. They were clearly on the nervy side, so I had to gingerly pick my way through them, especially past the bloody bull, which looked at me in a distinctly suspicious way. After about 10 minutes, I finally got on my bike again, got to the suburbs of Oxford, and developed a great big flat, courtesy of a stone piercing right through the thickest part of my brand-new rear tyre. So I started repairing the tyre while getting soaked by another heavy shower.
Oh well.
This I do know: I can ride 190 miles in the space of a week. My top speed is 40 mph, and cruising speed of 14-15 mph. I can ride on the flat for hours without breaking sweat. I should be able to ride from London to Dover in about six hours of continuous cycling. And I haven't succumbed to much to the siren lure of ridiculous amounts of lycra.
AND, I've gone through my funding target!
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