In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t like training. I loathe training. Ever since I was a young cub, stomping around cold, miserable playing fields, I have hated training. Eighty minutes on a rugby pitch? Fine. Mid-week before a game, sod off.
And it’s the same with cycling.
Now there are some who love it. Grimacing their way around Richmond Park, those little hamsters on their exercise wheel(s), focused on their Strava, sucking what little joy they had, out of their lives…OK I exaggerate. But while for some, going around, and around, and around, is fun, for me, it isn’t. And the same goes for the Surrey Hills. I know of at least two blokes whom, every Saturday morning at 7am, jump on their bikes and do the same route week after week, the only variation being perhaps a trip to Windsor, but only if they do the Great Park as well.
It is that repetition that does my head in. Yes I like going to Windsor, yes I love riding in London, but each time I try and vary it. The long-suffering Mrs Bear often helpfully suggests a route, only for me to lament “I did that one last week”.
Which is why at the weekend, I did the bridges again. I’ve done it once before and I kinda liked it so, at a loss what to do, I thought I’d give it a bash again.
Starting with Hampton Court Bridge, I wended my way through a blissfully quiet Bushy Park, devoid of perambulators - seriously how on earth can three people actually managed to take up an entire width of a road? - and then over to Richmond Bridge, then Kew and so on. 20 bridges crossed alternatively.
On the way to Albert Bridge, a WVM closed passed me and to top matters off, then drove AT me when we went off the lights at Battersea Bridge. Now, contrary to expectations, most London van drivers are considerate and very aware of other traffic, but this one had obviously decided it would be fun to try and scare me. So I guess he thought that, instead, I was so angry at him that he jumped the red light at Albert rather than risk me catching up with him - dear reader, I hadn’t changed my pace but I may have said something had I caught up at the lights.
The mainly enjoyable weave continue until Tower Bridge, where I turned and headed back west. One phenomena I have noticed is that when I overtake someone, they get furious. Kicking down, they head past me like the Flash on a push bike. But…but, all that efforts usually means that I eventually catch up and pass them again half a mile down the road having maintained my speed and they blow out, not being able to maintain their own pace.
So, having amused myself with a couple of these outraged-slur-on-their-manhoods types, I popped up Trafalgar and through Admiralty Arch where a cab driver started hooting me. Now, expecting some rubbish about getting off the road, I slowed down and then halted. I had forgotten I was wearing a charity kit from a previous ride and the cabby was thrusting a fiver out of the window. ‘Keep up the good work,’ he shouted and with a thumbs up drove off.
With that renewed faith in humanity, even the usual privileged drivers of North Surrey couldn’t dampen my mood as, enjoying the warmth of the early Spring sun, I headed back home, 20 bridges and over 50 miles.
Training ride: 3
Distance: 51.64 miles
Elevation: 740ft
Average speed: 14.3mph
Time on bike: 3h 37
Total distance: 140.6 miles
Time on bike: 9h 29
Days to go: 67
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