Day 1

It started well enough, eating up all the familiar miles I was well used to training. 20 miles and we arrived to the first break stop feeling strong. We did however hear the troubling news that a member of the group behind had be forced off his bike by an impatient Surrey Council van, which then proceeded to drive over said bike leaving it in a crumpled mess.

Stage 2 was where it got difficult. Although I'd covered many miles in my training, I simply haven't ridden enough hills. It killed me. Mentally I knew I had to get to 17 miles and when I got past that number, my brain told my legs to give up. Stage 2 turned out to be 21 miles as we'd taken a wrong turn (unknown to me who by now was way off the pace) and those last 4 miles were torture. 'What am I doing' was a question I asked myself over and over.

When I got to lunch, a brand new bike was waiting for Council Victim man. They obviously feared what might appear in the papers and acted with a speed I didn't realise local authorities were capable of.

I stocked up big time at lunch. I couldn't afford to hit the wall like I'd done previously. As a result, stage 3 was easier, with the exception of one killer hill, which quite frankly, I didn't even attempt on the bike.

Stage 4 was all downhill to Portsmouth. Or so I thought anyway. It was anything but of course and the wind coming offthe sea was in our faces for the whole final 17 miles.

And here I sit now. Wind chapped, sore, aching and struggling to stay awake. I'm burning in some places and numb in others. I won't actually be on the bike again till about midday. We'll see now how good my body is at making a sharp recovery, because quite frankly, I have little choice.


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