If it ain't raining, it ain't training!

As mentioned in my previous post, it has been a busy few weeks. We’ve closed the shop, which was the most manically, busiest time I've ever experienced. I then immediately started my new job the very next day. The new commute ride is under 3 miles if I go direct, so it will need some extending if the journey is to provide any kind of serious training.

With no more workshop I've also had to migrate my cycling kit back home. Evenings are once again spent beavering away in the shed! Talking of the evenings, now the clocks have changed it is dark early. So it can take extra motivation to get the bike out at the end of a busy day.

As an example, the weather forecast was terrible for Tuesday, with heavy rain moving in around 6pm. I dropped everything at 5pm and was out the office door in my cycle kit by 5.15. A light drizzle was already falling and immediately fogged up my glasses as I cruised out of the car park. If I rode straight home I’d beat the worst of the weather and be home and dry in around 15 minutes.

However, my extra motivation to stay out came in the form of the weekly club ride which was due to meet outside the old shop at 6.30. I was out and kitted up - what was a bit of rain! So with over an hour to kill I cruised through town and out into the lanes north of Chichester. The rain became heavier and heavier and I got slowly damper, but the effort kept me warm. With over 20 miles in the bank I rolled up to the shop just as the heavens really let rip. 

The rain pounded the road, drumming on my cycle helmet as I waited. I was aware it was madness, but I felt compelled to hang around to see if anyone was as bonkers as me. Amazingly Scott rolled round the corner and joined me in the torrential downpour.

The two of us had just decided that nobody need know if we slipped home instead of committing to the route published on the Whatapp group, when Colin drove up in a sea of spray. For some reason it felt wrong to pack it in now there was three of us. Damn Colin!

So off we set on roads that were more like rivers. The spray from Scotts rear wheel filling my shoes and the wind chilling my hands inside sodden gloves. It was horrific and to any sane human being we were utterly mad. But that sense of camaraderie meant we slogged our way through the darkness to the top of Selhurst. I lost all sense of feeling in my hands on the descent, so we did indeed cut things short, but we’d been out. Together we'd ridden our bikes which I'm sure we'd never have contemplated left to our own devices. We were committed cyclists and proudly posted a photo on social media to prove our dedication to those who had (sensibly) stayed at home. They'd missed out! 

Wet & frozen but we were out riding our bikes!