doctornige
Well-Known Member
I must be mad because i hate hills with a passion. It's on my 'to do' list![]()
I like hills. Well, I think I like hills. Cycling every day or so in the Peak gives you a healthy respect for a hill, but it also teaches you how to deal with them - how to break them down into little parts to sprint, spit, churn and chew up. I like nothing more than a hill that steepens and slackens over and over so that I can develop a rhythm and a feel for when to sit down and when to stand the f**k up.
This little skill I seem to have developed was tested to destruction on the Polocini Rivington 100. I was near the front. At least I had a sense I was near the front. Myself and Cliff had been barrelling along with a pro am team who made a navigational error. The two of us swung off the main road onto the correct route, while the team stopped and shouted ahead to reel in the three riders who had obliviously blasted past the right-pointing arrow marker. There was nobody ahead of us apart from one of the event organisers. The disoriented team were still reassembling themselves from their mishap. Eventually they caught us, and I exchanged sprints at the head of the 'race' with one or two of their number. Cliff's cramp stopped him from giving chase. I felt fit. King of the hill and all that.
Then came Jeffers Hill, and my whole self-assembled edifice of cycling fitness came tumbling down in an embarrassed and exhausted unclip with a heart rate of 165.
And I never even saw Paul Talbot, who it seems finished the event some two hours ahead of me. Oh well.