Last week 70 + miles, this week just over 60 miles...

It's Sunday morning, 1128hrs, 19 September, and outside it's bright and fairly warm as we approach the end of September (alright, there's still just over a week) and the autumn sneaks in, or, as I call it, NoVisibleLycra weather, meaning dull and overcast, the threat of rain, cloudy skies. I've just returned from a ride to Westerham where I met Andy and we enjoyed tea and a chat. Things have moved on somewhat since the days of sitting at the Tatsfield Bus Stop sipping tea from a flask and munching Belvitas. We now visit Costa Coffee where a large English Breakfast tea (in a paper cup) costs £2.10; but it means we don't have to carry stuff unnecessarily, which is a big weight off of my shoulders (quite literally) as I used to carry a huge flask full of hot water, four tea bags and a mug. Now I don't have to, but I still bring the rucksack with me. That said, we've been talking about crossbar bags. I have one that sits on top of the bar, but it gets in the way. I was thinking of buying one that hangs down from underneath the bar. Andy says I can get a slimmer one that fits on top. In all honesty it's not top-of-mind, not yet at any rate. In fact, not much is top-of-mind at present.

The bottom of Hesiers Hill, Saturday 18 September...

As avid readers will already know, I love the Sunday ride. It's good to meet outside (or inside) the Costa in Westerham and enjoy the chat about routes and hills and saddlebags and things that non-cyclists would probably regard as boring. A big topic of conversation is Andy's planned ride to Cornwall to see his sister. He was always going to ride there, but has now decided to ride back too. Why? Because booking the bike on to a return train looks like more trouble than it's worth. If it's anything like booking a seat on a train, it could prove disastrous, ie somebody else's bike in the spot he booked or simply no space left. So, instead of all the grief, Andy's going to ride home. He's allowing three to four days and his first stop on the return journey will be a Premier Inn in Exeter. That's about as far as his return journey planning has got, although it looks likely he'll rely upon Premier Inn, Travelodge and possibly even Days Inn as rest stops as he heads back from Bodmin to Caterham. I have to say that I'm excited for him.

Ledgers Road, 16 September, on the Washpond Weeble ride.

My weekly cycling routine is starting to bed in and it looks (at present at any rate) that I can ride around 72 miles per week on Sunday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I'm not going to entertain the idea of riding after a day at work, it's far too tiring and besides, I can bolster my walking (and possibly even swimming) on the days I don't ride. My new routine appears to be a ride to Westerham (like today), two Washpond Weebles on Thursday and Friday afternoons and then a ride to Westerham (or Knockholt, the Lakes, Dunton Green) on Saturday. The longer I ride on Saturday will determine the total weekly mileage, which has the potential to reach 80 miles. In fact, I need to look back on last October and November's rides to see what I managed and whether I can achieve the same distances this year.

On Beddlestead Lane, 18 September, being overtaken...

On my no cakes or biscuits journey, things have lapsed slightly. Last Sunday I weakened round at mum's, but I've managed not to eat any cakes whilst on the ride, ie no cinnamon brioche buns or toasted tea cakes in Costa, and I've stayed off the chocolate bars completely, although today I had one of those yoghurt-coated 'Natural' bars, which I fear are just as bad. What I have been doing a little too much is eating bread. Today, for example, I've had six slices, starting this morning with two slices of honey on toast for breakfast (around 0630hrs) and then two more on my return from the ride (I figure it's better than a bun or a toasted tea cake), and then, just a second ago (it's now 1708hrs so let's say around 1700) I had a Marmite sandwich, but remember this: I haven't had any lunch so I guess I'm "quids in". However, I'm due to go out to eat tonight so perhaps I should have exerted a little will power (which I don't have where food is concerned.

25 Sept's ride...

I enjoy my weekend rides more than anything, especially the Sunday ride, and it was good seeing Andy this morning. We're going to sort out a curry (with Dave and Geoff) although we're not sure where Dave is: he could be in South Wales, but we're not sure. I plan to call his mobile to find out. Avid readers of this blog will remember Dave, the guy with the Harley. Geoff, of course, is the illustrious illustrator and I'm sure he's been mentioned in the past. We all used to work together, but the importance of the curry (in Whyteleafe) is that, back in 2006 we went there for an evening meal, Andy and I started talking about cycling and decided that over the weekend we would meet and ride to Westerham. It was the start of regular cycling together and we're still at it today.

One week later...

It's now one week later (almost) and I can't say the week behind me has been that good cycling wise. I missed a ride on Thursday and that's why my end-of-week mileage is just over 60 miles, a good 10 under my respectable distance of 70 miles. Today (Saturday 25th September) I left the house at 0730hrs, the earliest I've been out in months, and headed for Westerham in the fog. I rode via Beddlestead Lane and Pilgrims Lane, passing the Velobarn and coasting downhill into town. All the faffing around on country lanes to avoid 269 traffic cost me time. The usual one-hour journey that I take on Sunday to meet Andy turned into one hour and 20 minutes, I arrived in Westerham at 0851 and ordered myself a large English breakfast tea to take out. I sat outside, people watching until 0915 and then headed home again, following the outward route and even riding up Hesiers and then turning left and heading for Washpond Lane, 24.48 miles. Not bad, but as I say, 10 miles under my respectable weekly distance of 70 miles so I'm not overly happy with the situation.

Did I mention my Taliban trousers?

One thing I find absolutely hilarious is people queuing for petrol in their cars. Sailing past the queues on the bike made me feel great, on top of the world, in fact, as I picked up on motorists arguing with one another as they waited in line. It was even funnier when I heard this builder type (huge red head and clearly very impatient) shouting at nobody in particular, just ranting with anger as he waited for the queue to move. And, of course, the queue didn't move. Brilliant! He probably voted Brexit, which made it even funnier. "Bloody Europeans, coming over here and taking all our jobs, driving fuckin' wages down, the cunts! I'm voting for Boris because I believe every word he says and why don't we give the £350 million we give to the EU to the NHS? Good thinking, Boris!" But he was forgetting - he didn't know - that Boris Johnson is an obese buffoon, habitual liar, adulterer and all-round nob cheese, you just have to look at him to see that, what with his master race hair cut, his ill-fitting suits, he's no Churchill, far from it, and now we're all paying for the bigotry of the Brexiteers; and Boris and Grant Shapps have gone to Europe, tails between legs, to see if they can arrange temporary visas for the European workers they told to fuck off. This is brilliant news all round! Here's hoping the Europeans tell us to fuck off!

The great thing about bicycles is that they don't need petrol, just manpower - and they keep you fit. While I can't go out in my car (the tank is virtually empty and I can't afford to be stuck in a petrol queue) I've already been to Westerham on a 24-mile plus ride, enjoyed a large English breakfast tea sitting outside of Costa Coffee and then I rode home. Who needs a car? Not me!

A few words about hills

Just a brief word or two about hills, mainly to say that most of the inclines on my routes - Titsey, Hesiers, Slines Oak Road, even White Lane - are doable, but it hasn't always been the case. Now, after many years of riding and getting fitter by the ride, Andy and I are able to handle all the aforementioned hills, they no long present us with that feeling of trepidation as they approach. Quite the opposite, in fact; I've now started to take them on, ride up Hesiers or Titsey without thinking and slowly but surely get to the top. On Saturday, as I reached the top of Hesiers, somebody said something like, "I bet you're glad that's over!" Or, "It's easier going the other way!" People like to put in a friendly comment, which is great. And I always agree with whatever they're saying and continue on my way. Sometimes, though, I feel like saying, "Actually, you know, it's not too bad," but I fear I might come across as arrogant, when all I'm saying is that I've reached a certain level of fitness and hills no longer frighten me. Well, not the hills that I know at any rate.