Well, this is the first post on the 6AM blog and I’m nervous.
Lets start at the beginning. We’d been talking about ‘doing something’ for a long time. Maybe some bidons, maybe some kit for the summer…I think every time we got on our bikes and went out we ended up talking about ‘doing something’.
I’ve known Lesley coming up for twenty years now. While I was killing myself down the skate park or hurling myself down handrails on my BMX, she was riding her fixie. From adventures in her homeland of Scotland to couriering in London, she was putting in the miles. I knew this because whenever we’d meet back then, the conversation would quickly turn to the subject of bikes.
So fast forward to about three years ago. I hadn’t ridden my BMX in about ten years after having a serious crash. I landed on my head and dislocated my shoulder. I must have bumped into Les in the pub. I told her that I’d gotten hold of my old man’s vintage Raleigh Castorama Team. For some unknown reason, my dad had decided to spray the gorgeous white pearl frame a matt black without taking off any of the Dura-ace components. The frame actually turned out to be broken. I thought it felt odd going downhill.
We arranged to meet on a Sunday and head up to Regents Park for some ‘gentle’ laps. I think her idea of gentle was slightly different to mine. It’s hard to cycle slower than you’re used to. I was dropped straightaway and left to battle it out with a guy of about sixty on a ladies bike of the same age. He wore baggy, grey tracky bottoms and a pair of Dunlop Green Flash. I couldn’t lose him! I think by this time the rains had come and I mean real thick rain. Those grey tracky bottoms must have weighed a ton. My purple ’90’s Carnac shoes were falling apart. I think the water made the twenty year old glue holding the velcro on just dissolve. I was determined not to stop. It was fucking freezing and I was soaked to the skin but still he kept passing me.
After what seemed like three hours (but actually turned out to be one) I saw Lesley coming the other way towards me looking a bit concerned. I think hypothermia was beginning to set in, I had uncontrollable shakes and couldn’t feel my hands or feet……”fuck Tom you O.K ?…….The rain wasn’t forecast till 11!”
The thing is when I did get home, I was on such a fucking high. The shaking eventually stopped but jumping into a hot shower was not a great idea. The blood rushing back into the veins in my hands and feet was agony. But that was it for me. I was hooked…
So for the past few years, I’ve seen Les most weekends (give or take a few) and have had some stupidly early starts and got soaking wet on numerous occasions. Lips have turned blue, new bikes have been bought, rollers have been toyed with, races have been entered (no points…yet) new friends have been made and all because of a bike….and I still think about the guy in the Green Flash. It was the hardest ride I’ve ever had. Hopefully I could drop him now…..maybe, maybe not. It might have been his first time too.
www.6amcycling.co.uk 