Lancing the Boil

As a parent you sometimes have difficult decisions to make in respect of your children.

One of these concerns the myth of  'Father Christmas' or 'Santa Claus' as he is known in the United States.

For the early years of our children's lives we lie to them, telling them that a big fat man, dressed in red, is going to arrive during the hours of darkness and leave them some presents.

We often reinforce this by advising them to leave out milk for the reindeer and cookies for our rotund invention.
As they gleefully open their presents the next day we whisper 'Did you hear the reindeer bells in the night?'


The joy in their faces is priceless.
Sadly as children get older we know that a time will come when they will find out the truth.
A dilemma evolves.
Do you tell them yourself knowing that you can explain everything? or do you let them work it out themselves to prolong the magical moments that come with this falsehood?

Either way, when they do find out they will realise that you have lied to them.
The age of innocence is over
From thereon in, Christmas changes and is never the same again

For Years Lance Armstrong was my Santa Claus.
He provided me with regular gifts of inspiration - not only in December but throughout the year.
The inspiration never came from his winning the Tour de France seven times, but from his courage in fighting and beating Cancer.
From the inspiration and strength he has provided to cancer sufferers for over a generation.
And yeah drugs or no drugs he was a fantastic cyclist and a consummate athlete.

I had already worked out sometime ago that maybe he didn't drive a sleigh, but it made his gifts no less valuable.

The USADA has now formally told the world that Lance Armstrong is a cheat.
That he is no longer my Santa Claus.
I am not happy

Maybe they are right, but what have they actually achieved?
Where does that leave them now?
Where does that leave the principals of Justice?
Where does that leave cycling ?

It is commonly known that for over the last decade professional cycling has been plagued with the misuse of performance handling drugs.
During that period it is impossible to say who won clean and who won dirty.

Some cyclists were caught, and we  know with total certainty that some were not.
We  knew all these things way before the USADA Investigation.

During that time Lance was suspected of doping he was singled out for testing time and time again.
Each time he passed.
He often quotes that he had never failed a drugs test and I am certain that what he said was factually correct.
Does not mean he didn't take drugs? No
It means what he says 'He never failed a drugs test.
It could also mean had he was able to employ the best chemist, and doctors to mask the tests.

I don't really want to get into the debate about whether he did or didn't, in an environment where there was no even playing field.
I question  the relevance today and the proportionality of the actions taken by the USADA.

Armstrong retired in 2005!!!

Since that time cycling has totally cleaned up its act.

It is now a booming sport both with viewing and participation.

If the USADA wanted to be fair whilst conducting  historical investigations they should investigate all US cyclists or none at all.
They state they have some key witnesses who were willing to testify against Lance but wished to keep them anonymous for fear of intimidation by Armstrong. Do they think we are that stupid!!!!!

It does not take a genius to work out who the witnesses are and I am sure Lance sees, or speaks to them regularly.
What are the USADA doing about their possible involvement?

Lets think this one through...............(hypothetically of course)

Maybe you had been involved in taking performance enhancing drugs in the past and had ridden for a prominent team.
Maybe you  had not yet retired.
Your reputation is still intact and you are earning a good living.
In the past you had seen other cyclists, often friends whose lives had been reduced to tatters through doping exposure, they had become humiliated and some turned into national figures of hate.

Along come the USADA who just might have some evidence that could cause you a few problems.
It may not convict you but could certainly be that sticky sort of mud.
Instead of going after you they induce you.
They say if you testify against your friend they wont go after you.
You are then scared, cornered and trapped.

Maybe they also tell you that they have seen your old mate  who has already agreed to Testify.

You could end up feeling that you have no choice.
Times that scenario by 12 and the pressure is really on Lance.

What hypocrisy
The USADA favours some, but not others, targets some not others.
Offers inducements - Aren't they a body that are meant to deter cheats?

What about the cycling and UCI?

If Lance is stripped of the Tour de France Titles who do they go to?
With most of the prominent riders of that era already exposed who can be sure that the title does not go from one suspected doper to another.
If awarded the title, should any new recipient undergo the same scrutiny as Lance?
If not, why not?

The USADA may have thought themselves as being responsible by telling the world that Santa Claus no longer exists.....but maybe some of us didn't want to know

Thursdays Thoughts

Sir Lancelot and the bikes of the round table

With our host nation knocked out of the World cup there are some very long faces at work -all except mine.

Don't get me wrong I am as Patriotic as the next man , but somehow I just don't 'get it' with football.

Some may accuse me of being a snob, trying to distance myself from some of our more traditional supporters.

The ones who would have difficulty spelling 'England' and who really believe that a guy called 'George' actually killed a dragon.

I guess I like my patriotic leanings to get behind sports with a more gladiatorial element to it, where beauty and brutality share the same table.

Having been brought up playing Rugby I soon realised the importance of 'giving blood'.

I remember it was way before my first visit to the official blood donor caravan, with the anticipation of Tea, biscuits and the smile of a pretty nurse.

With 'Rugby' broken limbs halted performance, not negotiated expenses or ruined perms.

Fortunately at that time I never owned a Road bike or had any knowledge, understanding or inclination to get into road cycling.

If I had I am sure I would never have drunk a Yard of ale or learned the words to vulgar rugby songs.

Being concerned about my apparent cheeriness one of my long faced colleagues asked me what sport I really liked to watch.

when I replied 'Tour cycling' he laughed.

For clarification he asked 'You mean you like to watch a load of guys ride from A to B in a series of races'

'That's precisely what I mean' I answered

Feeling for the poor chap I asked him to take a seat and tried to sell my new beloved product.

The Tour de france is gladiatorial and complex, there are alliances made and broken, there are conquests and sacrifices.

There is rich pageantry and symbolism.

There is blood....lots of it, sweat too ..........and for some tears.

It is all contested behind the most magnificent, moving backdrop of assorted terrains, elements and support.
There are Captains of Fortune, foot soldiers and supreme tacticians.

Then there is hype, scandal and spinning of a totally different type.

One of the more interesting sub plots is the battle between the current Champion Alberto Contador (perceived as unbeatable by many) and the Master himself Sir Lancelot with his knights of the radio shack team.

After being beaten by Contador last year Armstrong said of his pretender 'He has a lot to learn'. Somehow I believe that Lance wants to be teacher to.

After just the first days prologue which was less than ten miles there were so many talking points.

Lance Armstrong surprisingly beat all of his GC Contenders and fired a warning over the handle bars of the Astana Leader -Contador.

1-0 Armstrong.

Contador stating that he was disappointed with his performance.

His manager stupidly stating the Armstrong would not be able to match the Spaniard in the Mountains.

2-0 Armstrong (If that's what you think - Why say it? Especially after his leaders recent exploits in the Dauphine)

Alberto must be sick of the sight of the Radio shack jersey.

Whilst climbing the L'Alpe d'Huez in the Criterium du Dauphine he was shadowed by Armstrongs climbing scout Jani Brajkovic and dispite 6 energy sapping attempts he was unable to dislodge him.

If you take that into consideration I make that

3-0 to Armstrong.

Anyway as we all know, its a game of two halves, and its not all over till the fat lady sings.

She is not due on stage for a few weeks yet !!!!!!

With major crashes on the following two days and EVERY GC rider hitting the deck at least once, I think that I have found my new Gladitorial Sport and the only thing that I can really predict is compulsive viewing.

Yellow is the colour

This week the weather has changed. Gone are the northerly winds, now replaced by winds from the south bringing much milder weather. Although they have brought rain, they have also brought the sort of temperatures that have enabled me to give my legs an airing.

When the rain has stayed off, I have even been tempted remove my bright yellow fluorescent coat. But that would currently spoil natures symmetry.

The roads are now lined with rows of daffodils, nodding away behind the safety of roadside kerbs, like crowds of spectators egging me on towards the finish line.

There has also been a noticeable increase in cycle traffic. Roadies are now out there in abundance showing off this seasons Lycra shirts, and increasing the felling of fellowship.

Whether they are commuting, training or just wanting to fill their lungs with something different from recycled air. I embrace their company.
The racing season has also got underway, along with the indoor world cycling championship.

I am following developments with interest especially the expectations of the new teams from Radioshack with the great man himself, and The British based Team Sky with Bradley Wiggins. One of my other favorites Mark Cavendish (also sporting yellow) has had some early season teething problems, not with his bike, but his actual teeth!!!

However I am pleased to report that he has just captured his first win of the year after sprinting to victory in stage two of the Tour of Catalunya from Salt to Banyoles.

It will be interesting to see who wears the real yellow at the business end of the season.
For me I have 22 days left till I start my big ride, from Houston to Austin and then from Natchez to Nashville. My bag has appeared in my spare room and I have started packing.

I have also started to get some new tunes on my I Pod. Until I started visiting Texas regularly Country Music was alien to me, but now I am a big fan. I am really looking forward to spending a night in Nashville after we finish our ride and having a country music overload.

One of my favorite country bands at the moment is Lady Antebellum

One song I will have to have comes from an entirely different genre.

Being a very poor singer, I have always been attracted to the more simple of songs when i sung to my children. I use the term singing very loosely, but as a father you have to try, anything to send them off to sleep.

Even now my girls remember and say 'Dad' can you remember singing 'colours' to us.

Seeing the daffodils this week brought it all back to me.

After the thaw its all gone Potty

Sunday morning was different.

As I lay in bed under my duvet I could not work it out right away, my brain was frozen.

Far too slow to decide on which sense was being stimulated.

But finally it came to me.

It was the sound of birds outside.

Not the joyous sound of Spring, but more of a birdy sigh. The sort of equivalent sound that a human might make when finishing a long journey or completing an unpleasant task.

Of course my curiosity got the better of me and to the window I went, angling the blinds to look outside.

Although I lived on a street , I could be forgiven for forgetting such a fact as the roads, pavements, fields and even local beaches had been covered with thick layers of snow.

Not for the usual day or two but for nearly a month!!!!!!

Birds had stopped singing, they had lost their sense of humour. Even the red breasted robin no longer blushed.

It was too F***ing cold to sing.

If they sold beak balm, I am sure whole aviaries would have been queuing up to buy some.

Like us they just saved their energy to keep warm and look for food where ever it might come from.

Even some of the local stores had run short on bread and milk.

The birds were not the only surprise, the road was silver.

The dampness from the melted snow was shimmering in sunlight and bathed in long shadows.

I could Cycle

My recent cycle training had been confined to reading my colourful Lance Armstrong book 'Up close and Personal' so the concept of actually riding my bike seemed quite novel.

My brother Paddy in Texas has already stolen a march on me going out every weekend and already up to 45 mile sessions.

With Texas and the MS 150 Houston-Austin in April looming , I realised that I had to get my skates on (sorry cycle shoes). Of late I have been pre occupied with alpine pastimes.

So off I went wishing that I had not eaten all that christmas cake as my bike creaked under me, and my Santas sack protruded towards my handle bars.

I decided on a short cobweb blowing, hill climbing route.

The green grass on Beverley Westwood looked bizarre dotted with half melted snowmen and the odd pile of 'Scarf, carrot and coal button combination' remaining isolated and unemployed on barren grass.As I climbed up towards the mast to the north of Little Weighton there was the last remnants of our big freeze defying the morning sun.

Lines of snow framed fields and gullies creating white linear patterns all around like an agricultural chessboard.

The road so familiar to me had also changed since summer months with new unwanted arrivals.

Pot holes.

A month of freeze and thaw had exploited the weakness of the friday afternoon resurfacing. Where workers minds were on pints of ale and fancy girls, not on Mr Macadams compound.

Some parts of the road had more in common with a lunar landscape than a rural highway.
Still it made the ride interesting, a slalom without snow.

I was relieved to get to the top of the climb, the the icy air hurt my lungs as I breathed heavily.

The 20+ mph average from last summer was now a paltry 11mph, I was struggling, really struggling.

The long descent home increased it to 14 mph, whilst my heart beat recovered.

I recorded 16.03 miles, hardly respectable but at least it was something.

When I got home the birds had again stopped singing, I think the novelty had now worn off.

I put away the bike and reflected in front of the fire with a hot chocolate.

Its a long way to go to get cycle fit again, but in every journey there has to be a start.

Mine is now behind me.

Happy cycling

Mark Cavendish, by Scott!!!! what a rider

For those of you not the least bit interested in the Tour de France I am sorry.

Normal blogging service will be resumed in about two and a half weeks, but until then there will definitely be a Tour de France Bias during the week!!!!!!
As compensation for this my Sunday blogs will be TDF free.
This year I have split loyalties, I desperately want 'Lance' to do well.
Too see him in yellow at any point would give me pure joy, to see him in Yellow in Paris would be just incredible.
I don't just want it for him, I think his success would reverberate in so many different ways. It would lift people during a bad global recession, It would massively promote the Livestrong foundation, but most of all its just great for cycling. His participation has taken the spotlight from more popular sports and brought cycling into a completely different league. The media frenzy and TV coverage this year is unprecedented.

I am also a massive fan of our own British Rider Mark Cavendish and his Columbia Team which includes George Hincapie another of my favorite riders.
I especially love the fact that he rides the same bike as me......It always makes me want to go fast

Fortunately Cavendish will not affect Lances chances and in reality the Columbia Team may unwittingly be helping Lance and Astana each day by keeping Cavendish in with a shout for the sprints.

'When journalists at the Tour de France ask me if I am the best sprinter, I answer 'Yes', and that's seen as arrogance, but if they don't ask me, I don't say I'm the best sprinter in the world'

Mark Cavendish

I would love to see Mark Cavendish and Lance Armstrong on the podium together in Paris. One in yellow and one in Green.

Differing percpectives

Summer blockbuster - Who says that the Western is Dead?

Each summer Hollywood gets itself ready to present us with Movie blockbusters.
Films to move us, frighten us, and excite us.
To invite us to work out who are the goodies, the baddies and the bit part supporting actors.
Each film Production company is vying for our attention, and trying to steal a march on its rivals. Kids get excited and some parents too, using their children as vehicles to attend darkened Cinemas with Dolby sound, reliving their youth.

This year there is a new foreign production that is taking us all by storm. Its a real 'film Noir' in full Technicolour, giving the lighting engineers a real hangover with the fast moving sshadows.
The 2009 Tour de France.
Only 4 days in we have had everything
Exotic locations, beautiful weather and a Fantastic plot.
There has been blood, sweat, and tears.
Breakdowns, breakups and breakaways.
Tested loyalties, marriages, divorce, and further marriages of convenience.
Its a true epic.
Comparable with 'How the West was won'

With Lance Armstrong taking up the leading role pulling 'his' Astana wagon train across the french Riviera chased by the froggies.

I like his black helmet. its a cleaver rouse.

Baddies were meant to wear black hats and goodies white, but we all know that hats are removed on the podium.

I am loving it.
Of course I have only seen the rushes, and after vigorous editing, all my expectations may end up on the editing room floor. I am a bit concerned about the double dealing Spaniard with a name too similar to that of a large vulture. He is wearing a white hat.
In the mean time for those who love the thrill of the chase I attach some footage from a previous year.

Double trouble

Life has a habit of providing degrees of symmetry where things are paired together.
Things like:
Day and Night, Ying and Yang,Thunder and Lightening and Heaven and Hell.
Society has followed suit by making its own pairings like pairs of trousers, glasses, scissors, headphones and even handcuffs and shotguns, some of which I don't really understand the origins.
Over this weekend East Yorkshire had its own unique pairing in the form of twins.
My brother Paddy and I. We dabbled in our own favorite pairings too consuming, strawberries and cream, beer and peanuts and of course fish and chips.
We also had two cycle rides together.
Paddy is over from Houston on business and decided to come over to spend the weekend with his younger brother. When I say younger brother its actually Ten minutes, which is significant in the world of twins. It is the gap that separates the younger and the older.
I suspect that he also wanted check out the fitness of his 'Anglo Mules' (Simon and I) part of his 'Travels with my Mule Cycling Team.
Our event in August 'The Hotter than Hell' was apparently a very tough event and not for the unconditioned.
After group training for months with the Texas contingent, and clocking average miles in excess of 20mph he was perhaps concerned that Simon and I might slow the team down.
I was as nervous as a city banker at the potential scrutiny, as our own average times were far more modest.
Paddy resisted the invitation to head to the hill country and insisted that he wanted to replicate the sort of high tempo riding that we were likely to expect on the Texas plains.
With our own narrow twisting country roads, obligatory junctions and agricultural vehicles such a comparison was hard to achieve but it was all I could offer.
My East Yorkshire alternative was 'The Holderness Plain'
After 55 miles of riding Simon and I demonstrated to him some real Yorkshire grit.
We may not have had the advantages of team training, but we have had 3,000 + miles of riding in ice, snow, rain, gale force winds and F***ing big hills.
Our tempo seemed to impress our team leader and was at times too hot for his jet lagged legs.
By the end of our ride we had got the 'lone star' seal of approval.
Paddy declared 'I think you guys will be a great asset to our team'
Thank you Paddy we look forward to wearing our shirts with pride as well as copious amounts of sun block!!!!!!!

Training

209 miles this week, making 3,506 for the year. I will now try and do at least 200 miles per week. My virtual ride takes me into Charleston and as I enter this lovely city I really seem to be dancing on the pedals...............roll on Houston.

Go Lance go...........................

He may not be the leader of the Astana Team or the wearer of the yellow jersey at the end of the Tour, but he is what inspires me and thousands of others to ride.
Go Lance go..................

Lightening the load for new Horizons

In the early days of exploration, ships left the shores of Albion to find riches across new horizons and to further explore lands and continents previously discovered.

It must have been really frightening for them.

With only charts, limited navigational tools and a bible to help guide them, they never really new exactly where they were going.

No illuminated neon road signs or hazard markers, just the stars, the sun and the moon.
At that time everybody believed that the world was flat.

It was well recognised that if you travelled a bit too far you would just fall of the edge, like an errant chip falling from your plate.

To make matters worse sailors came home with exaggerated stories of sea monsters, sirens and wild storms.

Sea travel in those days was about as precarious as you could get.

Even worse than popping over to Mexico, without a face mask.

Each day ships would sail into uncharted territories and the crew would see for themselves, huge whales and giant turtles - Scary Stuff.

Some ships sank in storms or the crew perished through disease or starvation, others just just never returned.

Despite this they were never deterred continuously slipping their moorings and sailing towards forever changing horizons.
Out of the journeys came experience and knowledge, as well as a few novel ideas.

For instance In order to go to the West Indies they devised a great idea.
Basically head south till the butter on board melted, then turn (right ) due west and the Caribean Islands were straight a head of you.

Pretty Smart stuff.
You can just imagine how your satellite navigational system in the car might be adapted.

To the voice of Clint Eastwood.
'O Ah-ah, I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking, "Has the butter melted yet, or is it still hard?" And to tell you the truth, I've forgotten myself in all this excitement. But being this is a butter melting detector - the most powerful navigational system in the world, you've got to ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?!

Right now, I feel a bit like one of those salty sea dogs.

I want to move forwards, but seem to have lost a bit of direction.

The Euphoria of riding nearly 500 miles in three weeks in Texas has sunk.

Drowned in new found complacency.

I came home full of vim and vigour, yet I have only cycled 25 miles since I got back.

I know I always promised myself a bit of a break, but this feels more like a sabatical.

I feel like 'The Ancient Mariner'.

Stuck in the doldrums with the weight of further expectations around my shoulders.

'Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean'

Although I have not entered any cycle events in May, in June I have two killer rides.

'Flat out in the Fens', followed a week later by the 'White Rose Challenge'.

For both these rides and the following 'Hotter than Hell' in August, I will need to be much fitter and much lighter. They are all tough rides over 100 miles each with demanding cut off times before your swallowed up by the SAG Van.

This means a number of things:

Like swapping over my six packs.

Getting back on my bike
And I will also need some goals to fuel my motivation.
So here goes, today I decided to set them out. To slip my own moorings and set a course for new horizons.

Distance

1. I have cycled 1,873 miles so far this year.

It is 4,772 miles from Beverley to Houston.

Before I go back to Texas in August I want to complete the remaining 2899 miles.

To help me with this I have put a funky Widget on my blog to record my Mileage from today with 2899 miles the target.

Weight
2. I need to loose at least 40lbs.

I have started a proper diet for the first time in my life

Again I have put a Widget at the bottom of my blog page to record my progress.

A lot of people make excuses about why or how they have put on weight.

I am no different, but I am honest about it.

My problem has never been that I eat bad food, its just that I am a big pig.

I just like eating, and the delicious process of tasting nice food.

Throughout my life, I have always controlled my weight by exercise.

In fact I have often specifically exercised, so I could eat more.

On Sunday mornings I usually cycle an extra ten miles so that I can have more roast potatoes with my lunch, believe me its well worth it.

The more I exercise I do, the more I eat.

This strange approach has served me well for years.

However recently It seems to have been affected by bouts of Amnesia.

Well for about five years.

The maths now, does not quite add up

You see when I have not been able to exercise, I am meant to cut down my food intake.

Well, what can I say.... I forgot.

My love handles have turned into saddlebags

So drastic times have called for drastic measures.

I need to get rid of all the weight I put on during those sedentary periods before I can go back to my old regime.

I have named my diet the swamp diet.

It is broken down into three parts.

Part One - Detox - It is a mixture of starvation for two days and drinking things that has the same consistency, smell and colour of water you would normally find in a bayou

Part Two - Stomach shrinkage - Further swap water, and diet shakes, with proper, healthy food phased in.

Part Three - Continuous Healthy food with portions the size you would get on an aeroplane.

Right now I feel a bit like Oliver Twist and wish to ask myself for some more.

However looking over the swamp diet menu, there is only one thing available.

Yes, you've guessed it

More swamp water.

I guess its better than weevil infested biscuits that the sailors had to eat.

'Its not about the bike, or is it?'

When Lance Armstrong brought out his book 'Its not about the bike' .

I was totally sold on the message.

I often used the phrase when people blamed their bikes for poor performance or bad attitude.

Each time they winged on about their bikes or various parts of them, I was often rude and quite dismissive.

I would just say 'Its not about the bike'.

Now I find myself eating some of those words.

Furthrer more I wish to humbly apologise to all those I may have offended in the past.

Sometimes it is about 'the bike' !!!!!!

For Lance the application of his message was quite unique and personal and should be taken in that context.

It was about his personal bravery in fighting and beating cancer and was enough to inspire anybody. For Lance it did not stop there. He marched right back into the arena and embraced probably the most physically demanding sport in the world - and won.

Not once, but continuously for seven years despite the envy and hostility of the 'Garlic munchers'. It was a truly amazing achievement of defiance and dogged determination.

Through 'The Alps' and 'Pyrenees', passing miles of dazzling sunflower fields and onto the Arc de Triomphe to sip the champagne of victory.

I have always found it ironic that it was the french that gave the USA the Statue of Liberty , a symbol of Liberty and freedom. Yet it was the 'froggies', through L'Equipe ,that gave Lance no Freedom or Liberty, but they certainly took a few (Liberties that is).

In the title of his book Lance seemingly dismisses his 'mule' that took him so many miles, through the endurance of so much pain which accompanies such an event.

In reality he was just highlighting the more significant components of road racing - from the carriage (his bike), to the engine and the transmission (his engine and mindset)

Let Lance Explain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNJTDt9d6Kk

Now although I knew what it was all about, I do feel a bit of compassion for Lances bike?

I bet it was upset.
If I had written a book with such a title 'Scott' would have sulked forever and would never take me up any hills ever again.

I also think that the message does not always apply.

Maybe Lance should have shown some respect for his Mule

His bike was one part, of a dominating duo.

Tested in wind tunnels, every aspect of it was designed for both lightness and Aero dynamic qualities.

Built for speed rather than comfort it had the linear qualities of a stealth fighter with similar pace.

The net result was something as light as a honey coated waffle, and just as sweet.

In the arena of professional road racing the difference between each bikes performance is minimal, you could swap all the bikes around with the riders and it would have very little effect on the result. But races are won and lost by seconds and the attention to detail is as important psychologically as it is practically.

Now with my bike its very different.

My Aluminium Scott s40 Speedster 2007.
It is wind tested in Britain's Northerly Gales. with its triple set, it is designed to get tubby men up big hills, as well as down the other side.

It is built for comfort rather than speed and has the linear qualities of a heavily laden beer truck.

It moves just as slowly up hill and as quickly down hill as if the hand brake were disengaged.

The net result is something as heavy as a large tub of Ben and Jerries, which we all know that once consumed, its not entirely good for you.

In the arena of amateur cycling the difference between each bikes performance is massive, you could swap all the bikes around and you would be surprised to see some 'donut eaters' well up the rankings.

In the amateur world Lance 'It is often about the bike' !!!!!!!!!!

When I was cycling in Texas I only used cool Lance type bikes.

My lowest average was 19 mph, with it being 20+ mph at times.

This was with my heart rate at an acceptable level.

On Scott my average usually only peaks at about 17 mph, when I spend half my ride in the red zone.

Now Lance might say that I should increase my power/weight ratio by loosing some lard.

He would agree that it would definitely make me go faster.

I would totally agree too.

So I have set myself a new challenge starting with a weigh in on Monday.

By the time I take part in my next major charity ride.

'Hotter than Hell' Texas in August

I want to be 40lbs lighter.

Having sampled the joy of heading a pace line I want more of it.

Once I had tasted the Champagne of the Champs Elysees,

Spring water now tastes a bit bland.

So now my head is full of new bikes, and dreams of wearing my own yellow jersey
With an empty wallet and biting recession, I am not quite ready to sell my soul to the devil.

There must be a way.

I could contact my benevolent brother Paddy and volunteer to ride as his full time domestique in the greatest traditions of team racing.

He would surely not have me riding a shoeless mule.

What a great idea

Paddy The Scott CR 1 Team would be just the ticket.

Cheers Bros

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huEnJUzq8EU