Beverley and its beligerant Bovines

I have recently realised that since I have started blogging I have never featured my home town Beverley.

Beverley is a market town, civil parish and the county town of the East Riding of Yorkshire, England, located between the River Hull and the Westwood.

The town is noted for its main feature the Beverley Minster and architecturally significant religious buildings, as well as the Beverley Racecourse and the market place; the town itself is around 1,300 years old.
The town was originally known as Inderawuda and was founded by Saint John of Beverley during the time of Angle kingdom Northumbria.

After a period of Viking control, it passed to the Saxons, a period during which it gained prominence in terms of religious importance in Great Britain.

It continued to grow especially under the Normans when its trading industry was first established.

A place of pilgrimage through the Middle Ages due to its founder, Beverley eventually became known as a noted wool-trading town.

Beverley was once the 10th largest town in England and among the richest, owing broadly to its connection with founding saint of the town John of Beverley.

However, following the English Reformation, Beverley's regional stature was reduced.
For twenty two years, Beverley was the administrative centre of the local government district of the Borough of Beverley, and is now the East Riding county town.

It is located 8 miles (13 km) north-west of Hull, 10 miles (16 km) east of Market Weighton and 12 miles (19 km) west of Hornsea.

According to the 2001 United Kingdom Census the total population of the urban area of Beverley was 29,110, of whom 17,549 live within the historic parish boundaries.

As well as its Racecourse and markets, Beverley is known in the modern day for hosting various music festivals throughout the year.

In 2007 Beverley was named as the best place to live in the United Kingdom in a study by the Royal Bank of Scotland.

Well that's the formal bit out of the way.

All of my cycling routes start from Beverley.

If you travel anywhere North-East through to South clockwise you cycle on relatively flat roads into the Holderness plain. (this is reserved for days with a hangover, or for fast riding).

From South to North East you are directly into the Yorkshire Wolds and then towards the North Yorkshire Moors. This is big hill country, and my usual route.

This starts with a steady climb over Beverley Westwood. It is a large area of pasture land that permits free grazing through an old anomoly in the law.
As such the roads are shared with cows and bulls, some of which have very big horns. These are nowhere as big as the protrusions belonging to the Texas Longhorn, but with a ton of beast behind them, they make potent weapons. I actually find all horned cattle a little intimidating, especially when I am wearing red.

If I was the neuritic type I would be sure that these four legged creatures have a spy close to my house. Maybe its just coincidence I dont know but as each time I set off up to the Westwood, they all appear by the roadside. Its a bit like crowds lining the route of Alpe de huez in the Tour de France.

Each time I cycle up or down Westwood they are seem fascinated by me and their apparent curiosity brings them up close and personal. So much so that I am able admire the grooves on their horns and look for remnants of ripped Lycra, or cyclist blood.

Their favorite trick seems to be reserved for when I come home.

Whilst cycling at 30 + mph down the steepest section they like to step out in front of me, and stop stationary in the road.If i move to the left, they do, to the right they follow too, like some prearranged choreographed dance sequence.

I wonder are they autograph hunting? believing me to be a cycling bull.

Others like to run along side me like Didi, Le Diable, in the Tour de France.

All in all it makes for some interesting riding.

This Saturday sees a visit from Paddy by twin brother who has been putting in some great fast riding on the Texas Plains. I am looking forward to reacquainting him with some proper hills to see if he can compete for the polka dot jersey.

Sundays blog may just feature some brotherly pain as well as brotherly love, either way I am certain there will be some frivolity

London Pride

For years I have been castigating my Brother Paddy about his lack of will power in respect of his diet and training.
He says it is easy for me having a modest life style!!!
Admittedly he does have a point, eating less and using my bike rather than the car ensures that I can save money.
The saving enables me to buy the more important and often vital things that I need, rather than what I want.
Further more I am merely a stones throw from such beautiful and varied terrain where I can ride my bike.
To top it all, I also have a Gym in walking distance that offers a variety of exercise classes, including spin.
When Paddy is at home he is faultless, he eats sensibly and certainly trains as hard as I do.
The trouble starts when he is away, where he collects lbs with the same frequency as airmiles.
Living in hotels he piles on the weight and does very little exercise.
I always say to him. 'Why don’t you just eat sensibly and use the gyms that are usually available too you?'
When my questions are answered with what appears to be an array of excuses, I just used to switch off and think that he was just being weak and pathetic.
In a sanctimonious way I told him that he just needed to be better prepared and to have more self discipline.
The answer appeared that simple!!!!
He politely gave me a unique destination for my opinions.
On reflection I deserved much more, perhaps even a punch on the nose.

This past week I have been on a course in London.
Unless I am on holiday I would never stay in a Hotel for more than two nights, So this was to be the nearest to my brothers life I could get to.
So as well as completing the course, I tasked myself with an additional challenge.
To show Paddy once and for all that travelling should not affect training.
Before setting off I completed some research on the hotel and ensured that I was adequately prepared.
Instead of packing ‘Going out clothes’ they were replaced by Sports Gear.
Next to my toiletries I had placed assorted bottles of ‘slim-fast milk shakes’ and powders to make up hydrating sports drinks. This would be a breeze I had decided.
When I checked in my Hotel on the Sunday evening I was determined to go back to Yorkshire even fitter and thinner than when I arrived and to blow Paddy’s lifetime excuses right out of the water.
In fact I thought I could even call him whilst running on the treadmill, just to illustrate my opinion and give it more gravitas.

On inspecting the gym I was immediately struck by its position.
It was elevated on the fifth floor overlooking London.
Great view I thought.
It had a sauna, fantastic chilled water fountain and TV monitors at every exercise station. Thrilled at my discovery, I decided on a warm up on the tread mill, from which I could call Paddy in Houston.
The treadmill was broken................ and the one next to it, the third was occupied by a plump man walking slightly faster than and overladen snail, and reading the Financial times.
With my enthusiasm tempered I got on the only vertical bike.
The resistance button did not work, so it was like peddling down hill with a gale force tail wind.
The recumbent cycle was no better with the seat lock lever broken.
This meant that my movement was more akin to a rower than a cyclist and messed up my knees before the plump man had got to page 5.
Tactically I decided to delay my phone call to Paddy not wishing to copy those immortal lines of ‘Houston…..we have a problem’.
Having not even broken into a sweat I returned to my room thoroughly disgruntled.
So maybe a week of no exercise would do me good I convinced myself.
Besides there was always the diet.
Having decided to eat in the Hotel restaurant I observed the mouth watering menu and ordered what I envisaged to be a healthy, yet wholesome meal.
When it arrived it looked spectacular, and for a small child it might be considered an appropriate portion. For me it represented something I could eat in three mouthfuls without even having to apply a napkin to the corners of my mouth.
I was gradually getting very miffed.
From my swish hotel restaurant table I could see outside and over the road to the ‘Euston Flyer’ a Traditional Ale Pub.
People were sat outside enjoying the warm evening sunshine and smiling, an expression that seem to be avoiding my face.
They cheeky B******DS were drinking beer and eating food !!!!!!!
Portions that I could easily see from 200 feet away that included of all things chips.
Not those scraggly ones that you get in MacDonalds but big fat ones, with a crispy outer and soft fluffy inner. The sort you might pinch from anothers plate knowing that the outcome could result in physical violence.

Within 30 mins I had crossed over the other side of the road.
To the dark side.
Supping a variety of Real Ales, eating a Juicy Burger and chips I was as happy as a pig in a trough. To onlookers I probably resembled one too.
Paddy I am so sorry.

From my new location I watched, smelt, heard and touched London.
London surprised me.
I used to live in London 18 years ago and It was at least two years since I had last stayed there. When I lived there I used to cycle into the city from Lewisham every day for two years. Then commuter cyclists were a rare site, almost a novelty, and I would wave frantically on the rare occasion that I might see another cyclist.
It was not a warm recollection. I was knocked over six times and would exhaust all the bad words in the dictionary on a daily basis. Ultimately it was one of the reasons I left the city for a more rural lifestyle.
But things had changed !!! I was impressed by the pure number of cyclists especially the fix gear variety. They were everywhere.
People of all ages, shapes, sizes, colour and creeds, forming spoke wheeled processions along dual cycle ways.
Maybe it was just where I was, or my optimistic perception, but suddenly I was uplifted by the progression that London had seemingly made.
I toasted the liberation with my pint of ‘London Pride’
It all went down very well.

Travels with my Mule

Have you ever taken part in a cycle charity event ?

Are you an International cyclist?

Have you ridden on your own, as teams in their pace lines go whizzing by?

I have, and sometimes when its been really tough going I have longed for the company of a comrade in arms.

To encourage me or to pull me along and visa versa.

After completing this years MS 150 my twin brother Paddy and I decided to put together a website for charity bike riders called Travelwithmymule.com.

The concept was simple to form a group of International or Cross border riders who regularly completed cycling charity events.

Two charity rides in two different countries or states would make them eligible to become an honorary member of 'The Mules' or 'Travel with my Mule Team'.

If you wish to join such esteemed company, its easy and free.

All that is required is that a brief profile is completed similar in length and structure as others on website. This should be sent with information about your rides and a picture of a mule to my e mail address. dragonfly04@dragonfly04.karoo.co.uk

You will then feature in 'The Stable'

Our Aims are outlined within the website but our dream is to have a 'Mule' in charity rides around the world.

You will never have to ride alone, there will always be a Mule to help lighten your load.

A discussion board will be devised for questions and assorted topics and will be updated regularly.

An appropriate team jersey is currently being designed and will be available for all honorary members to purchase. They will be produced and sold on a non profit making basis and the availability will depend on demand. We have some great ideas but welcome input from any prospective Mules.

Weekly Update.

My weekly update has been delayed due to my travelling down to London on Sunday for a weeks course (No Cycling). However my Hotel has a Gym so I have no excuse for not keeping my training going.
This week the weather has been beautiful with warm early summer sunshine.

I am convinced that my skin acts as some sort of solar panel reactor as the warmer it is the more energised I seem to be. Gone are the arm warmers multiple layers, and bootie covers and out comes the sunscreen much to its surprise at such an early introduction.
Although its not quite Texas weather there is genuine heat, with very the sort of air quality you would normally expect on a crisp winters morning. It has still been windy though, but ill take anything that goes with sunshine right now even a plague of locust. One analogy That I can think of is that its like eating Chocolate. Although there is a huge difference between a kit-kat and chocolate eclair, each provide pleasure through their unique chocolate content., its only the measure of pleasure that differs.
Sunshine is my emotional chocolate.

Like an 'on form' baseball slugger, I have also been spreading my hits all around the geographical cycling arena. South to Lincolnshire, West to Broomfleet, North to Scarborough and East on Sunday to Hornsea.

Hornsea contains a Mere (Lake) which was formed after the end of the Ice age. Although its less than a mile from the sea it’s a fresh water lake with no contributory rivers.

Weekly mileage 175
Monthly Mileage 682.

On my virtual Cycle ride from Beverley to Houston, I have finally made landfall at New Brunswick.Next stop Maine and the US of America. Cant wait for the virtual exploration of the USA.

So you say your a cyclist?

As the Autumn of my life steadily sneaks up on me, my memory is not always as sharp as I would like it to be. One of the regular things that is effected by this is my recollection of various passwords.

There used to be a time, that the only code I had to remember, was the combination lock to my bicycle.

Now I have about twenty different passwords to remember.

To make matters worse, I have to change most of them every three months.

I used to store them in my Blackberry 'password box' but alas I forgot the password for that too.

When I do forget, I have to go through a right rigmarole of having my personal identify verified.

Its a good job that my twin brother Paddy lives in America, as I used to be asked the question.

How do I know that 'you are you', and not your twin brother?

More confusingly, I have also been asked.

How do 'you' know 'you are you', and not your twin brother?

I guess that there is always the possibility, that when we were babies we got mixed up.

However as we are not in line for the thrown, or awaiting some massive inheritance, being 12 minutes younger has not affected me too much.

When you look at the cycling there are also some identity issues, with so many disciplines that accompany the generic term of 'cyclist'.

Each has its own following and stereotype attached to it.

Each is also very different.

For me, I seem to have forgotten my metaphorical combination code as I scramble for my 'cyclist' identity.

For years It was easy, I was a recreational cyclist and that was the end of it.
Now the lines have gone all fuzzy.
I still ride to work, ride to the pub (Very important) and ride to the shops. This sort of puts me in the 'ecco-recreational' category. However if you now mix in Sportives, Audax, and the odd time trial then you have a very long word.

One that might compete with llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrob wllllantysiliogogogoch which incidentally is a place in wales and translates as :
"The church of St. Mary in the hollow of white hazel trees near the rapid whirlpool by St. Tysilio's of the red cave"
Sounds a really cool place to cycle.

Considering other disciplines such as :- track cycling, cycl0-cross, fixed gear street riding, the many forms of BMX riding, mountain biking, road racing, criterium, or people just taking spin classes in the Gym there is good reason to be more specific.

The principal may be the same but the application, training and technique is often very different.

I sometimes hear drivers castigate cyclists.

Well which 'cyclist' exactly do they mean, as we are not all the same?
I think anti cyclists often take a piece of negativity from every discipline they can think of, and clump them all together as in this satirical video 'The Cyclists'.

Weekly Training/Weight Data

This week my weight loss has moved to a sensible amount of 4lbs (18lbs in three weeks). I am starting to find the hills easier and the flat bits much faster. The energy levels do seem to fluctuate though, so I am now taking whey protein drinks after each ride.

I managed 228 miles this week with 11,000 ft of climbing. I am very pleased with this but its been tough. It included 70 miles today in gorgeous weather around the Wolds. I took some photos (below) which included a cycle scare crow spotted in Wetwang. The strangely named village was hosting a scare crow festival.

I also had my daughter take one of me sporting my fantastic T Shirt from Rat Trap Press Check them out, they are all very original and great value. I support them because they are hand made using a silk screen process by the man himself.

In my virtual reality bike ride from Beverley to Houston, I stated last week that I was over the gulf of St Lawrence and moving towards the New Brunswick Coast. This stretch of water still contains some winter ice which affected my GPS. It miscalculated our progress probably through wishful thinking. We are still infact in the Gulf of St Lawrence and longing for landfall !!!!!!

'Great Expectations' Part 2

It is often the case that new arrivals bring with them new responsibilities, and sometimes the occasional burden.
Some can also be life changing.

The desire to have children, a new job, or to move house are obvious examples.

With the obvious positives there are always negative aspects to these scenarios.

Children can cause huge anxiety as well as great joy.

The dream promotion often brings the nightmare of stress.

The relocation from the polar regions of 'Yorkshire' to the 'East Texan Prairie, swaps cold wind and gales, with warm wind and Hurricanes.

The upgrading of my road bike from a Mid range alloy 'Scott Speedster', to a Carbon fibre 'Scott Addict also brings with it some new challenges.

I have never seen myself as a good cyclist, although whatever I do in life I always try hard to do it well and improve where there is a capacity to do so.

Taking part in Sportives and charity events I always peddled hard , but I knew my limitations.

When people went whizzing past on their 'Posh' bikes I resisted the chase. There was no point at all trying to stay with them or chase them down as Scott hated all that showy stuff.

If i was to try such a feat he would probably try and dislodge me or other cyclists just to cause embarrassment for me.

Now Addy has arrived on the scene things are totally different.

He is as enthusiastic as a rookie quarterback playing in the Superbowl. He eagerly wants to make his mark.

I went out cycling with Simon today. He has a posh bike and is as fit as a butchers dog, and as competitive as a wall street stock broker. Each time Simon raised the tempo Addy followed suit obviously trying to impress me. The upshot of all this high energy was marked. By the time i got home I was in urgent need an oxygen tent and a highly trained masseuse.

Clearly Addys expectations of me are far greater than my current capacity.

In fairness, I was very impressed by his coltish spirit, but he lacked maturity. If he wanted to go racing off he should at least of told me, communication in these sort of relationships is key. With a modicum of pre warning I could have taken one of my brothers revered five hour energy drinks.

When I put him away for the day his disappointment was obvious. It mattered not that he couldn't speak, the words were there for anyone to take in.

Get better, or get off !!!!!!!!

Weekly Training/Weight Data

This week my diet has definitely been affecting my energy levels when I have been cycling. My legs have been very naughty, l refusing to cooperate with my instructions.

However I do appreciate that the long term positives far outweigh any short term performance. Each pound loss should increase my power weight ratio whatever that means.

I have in fact managed to loose a full 8lbs this week which has really put things into perspective for me.
If somebody was to ask me to carry a ruck sack full of potatoes on a long bike ride, I am sure that my response would be non too plesant, even bordering on rudeness.

What a hypocrite I would be though !
I have been effectively cycling with potatoes in rucksacks, side panier's, crammed into the rear of my shirt, and in a front basket for nine months. Enough to provide a sufficient chips supply for any fast food outlet.

As I cycle now I feel liberated with the thought of potatoes tumbling from my bike and lightening the load.

I imagined them bouncing off the windscreens of cars containing irate motorists, who in turn looked to the heavens in amazement.

The expression its 'raining cats and dogs' could be changed in phrase books across the globe to. 'Its raining potatoes' However it does not really possess the same ring to it.

I have broken through 2000 miles for the year making it 2049.

In my virtual reality bike ride from Beverley to Houston it takes me into Newfoundland where its very chilly at 3C degrees. Its somewhere I always wanted to visit after reading The Shipping_News a pulitzer prive winning novel by Annie Proulx.

Laurel (Lily on the road) get the kettle on ill soon be in Ottawa

Charity News

I am now committed to raising money for 'The Daisy Appeal' a local charity that supports a cancer research and training facility. My father sadly died of Cancer and I am sure everybody knows of someone who has been effected. My daughter Daisy loved the fact that such a charity uses her name.

Spring has Sprung....at Last

Simon

'Great Expectations' Part 1

'Last night I dreamt I went to Mandalay again, and as I stepped through the iron gates a strange power become me, and I passed through them, as surreal as all dreamers are..........................

It was not really Mandalay, but an East Texan Bayou, however it was as close as I could get to replicating the classic opening of Daphne du Maurriers brilliant novel 'Rebbeca'. It is arguably one of the greatest opening lines in English fiction

My dream was real enough though.

I was a young boy called Pip (Short for Philip) and on a small isolated path surrounded by rich exotic, Mangrove swamps.
There were loud Texas rangers all around with drooling bloodhounds, apparently looking for some escaped convict.
On the news they said it was an Englishman dubbed ' The Pirate' .
The reporter announced that he had come to America to seek his fortune, and was now wanted by the IRS.
Out of the swap the barnacled brigand surfaced - directly in front of me.
He was a big man with an odd Australian twang to his otherwise Anglo/American Accent.

He bid me to keep my mouth firmly shut, and ordered that I fetch him fresh water and victuals. He had the presence of a 'Maillot jaune' and I felt like his dutiful domestique.
After fulfilling his wishes he wadded off back into the murky water, amidst the deep base echoing sound of the bloodhounds excited at the the scent of prey.


His last parting words were, 'Your name please brother?'
I replied Pip nervously.
Well Pip, you looked out for me, so in time I will look out for you.

I have always been a great believer in the relevance of dreams.Matters that might be on your mind, which are close to your consciousness and are translated to symbolised images. In my cases it seemed to be an assortment of images from my collective blogposts.

When I awoke in the morning I received an E mail from my twin Brother.
It was short and to the point obviously sent from his Blackberry.
‘You can pick up your new bike’
My Texan brother certainly was looking out for me. The Scott CR1 was apparently deemed, not worthy for such a fine Domestique as myself.
He had gone and purchased a brand new Scott Addic.
It has now been collected and lives in the spare bedroom. Im still in a state of shock running upstairs every five minutes to look at it and to make sure he 'Addy' is ok.

I need to leave it there until I have told the older Scott.
You cant just bring another bike home without a proper explanation.

That will wait till tomorrow, which is when I will let 'Addy'show me what hes got.

I sense that Sundays blog may be quite wordy.

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