Keeping up with the holidaymakers
Usually during the summer my life is very calm. I stay shut away in my little office, beavering away at my websites, while the rest of the world does holiday type thinks – swimming pool, visiting medieval villages, getting drunk and singing in the courtyard and so on.
The main times I emerge from my oversized cupboard are to clean the pool or to go for a bike ride.
So last week I was pleased when Mrs B came in and told me a holidaymaker had brought their bike along with them and, having noticed my bike lying around, had suggested we could go for a ride together. Sounds good I thought, I’m always happy touring around the countryside and enjoying the scenery.
Well I know I talk the talk and pretend I’m competent but in truth I’m not about to enter the Tour de France. The little group I go out with are all about the same age as me, and all about the same level of ability. So I had optimistically assumed that was a reasonable level for our age and condition.
Enter stage left…the holidaymaker.
I was a bit concerned to see that he had a bike that weighed about the same as a helium balloon (I love my bike but it’s not up to the minute carbon fibre), but of course lots of people in the UK buy expensive things for the fun of it – so perhaps nothing to worry about…
Well, we set off and it took about 30 seconds to become obvious I had not been trying hard enough. As he soared into the distance, and I trailed behind pedalling like a madman to keep up, it was clear that my ‘only go cycling when the weather is nice, and then mostly to appreciate the scenery’ approach had not well prepared me for what lay ahead.
Being a nice kind of person he took pity on my feebleness and professed to enjoy cycling at walking speed and listening to the birds, and it was a very nice morning for enjoying the countryside. Meanwhile he regaled me with stories of the years of intensive training time he had spent on the bike.
But I have learned a valuable lesson for the future. Either to keep the bike hidden until people staying in the gites have finished unpacking; or feign a rare malady that affectes the lower leg; or find a good EPO stockist.
In fact I had a great time and learned a lot from having a ride with someone much more competent and have been cycling intensively since just in case he comes back in the future – we live in a great region for cycling so it’s not impossible. I reckon if I keep it up come rain or shine for the next 12 months I might just qualify as ‘rather poor’ instead of ‘good grief is it possible to be that slow?’.
And at least next time I’d be forewarned and would have plenty of time to melt down a few kilogrammes of lead to pour into their bike frame, or to plan a crucial business trip to Alsace…