We left shortly after 5am and headed down to Victoria park. My neighbour (Mr Bianchi) fresh from his weeks cycling training and posting the most aggressive stats on Facebook, had been working hard for this event. I had slouched a casual 27.5 miler out last friday, and squeezed in a pawltry 10 miler on Tuesday but had largely been loafing about all week doing bugger all. He was somewhat strutting for the remainder of the week, and telling me that I shouldn't need many rest breaks, and that I should keep a good pace.
We started from Victoria park shortly after 7, and proceeded into the Essex countryside to be greeted by Chigwell and some sizeable inclines that weren't mentioned in the brochure. A hint for anyone doing a BHF ride for the first time, the BHF patently lie and downplay the difficulty of their rides, although to be fair not too much and any ride is essentially "do-able" you just need to get enough hill work into your training schedule.
Mr Bianchi was giving it large, tackling each hill with aplomb. I was tackling each hill with care and stopping when I got too puffed.
And then as we got into Stapleford Abbots, disaster struck. Mr Bianchi nearly collapsed at the top of this big incline. As I mooched up to meet him he was rather pale and somewhat spooked. We sat down and he was telling me he had pains in his back, a tight chest, pains in his left arm etc etc.
I immediately called the medic line (St John's Ambulance) and set about reassuring him. I wasn't overly worried as
a) He kept burping and retching.
b) He was not out of breath and was gabbling at me what he was feeling.
c) It was blinking obvious he had trapped wind and was having a panic attack.
I am somewhat expert in panic attacks as I had a quite a few in my 20s. I got him some Rennies and a coke to settle his stomach. The wind started coming up in droves. The St John's Ambulance arrived and checked him out. They agreed there was nothing heart related, but stressed he had over exerted and should drop out.
Mr Bianchi had to drop out. He he he. And I felt fine. He he he. I could finish the race, get the medal and finally put pay to all his showing off.
A little MF appeared on my left shoulder and said "Do it, bedwetter. Become a man. Crush this show off under your mighty boots. Do it!!!!!"
And then a little K2P2 appeared on my right shoulder and said "Don't do it, you're a bedwetter and we on CUK love you for this, you're one of the good guys. Stay with your mate and see him home alright"
I went with mini K2P2.
But it was the right thing to do. I soothed him down, and dealt with his shattered ego. Then on the way home he basically said he needs to slow up and stop showing off and enjoy his cycling. Which means we can go cycling together and actually enjoy what we are doing rather than train for the Tour de France
Today I nearly became a man, but stayed a bedwetter. It was the right thing to do
We started from Victoria park shortly after 7, and proceeded into the Essex countryside to be greeted by Chigwell and some sizeable inclines that weren't mentioned in the brochure. A hint for anyone doing a BHF ride for the first time, the BHF patently lie and downplay the difficulty of their rides, although to be fair not too much and any ride is essentially "do-able" you just need to get enough hill work into your training schedule.
Mr Bianchi was giving it large, tackling each hill with aplomb. I was tackling each hill with care and stopping when I got too puffed.
And then as we got into Stapleford Abbots, disaster struck. Mr Bianchi nearly collapsed at the top of this big incline. As I mooched up to meet him he was rather pale and somewhat spooked. We sat down and he was telling me he had pains in his back, a tight chest, pains in his left arm etc etc.
I immediately called the medic line (St John's Ambulance) and set about reassuring him. I wasn't overly worried as
a) He kept burping and retching.
b) He was not out of breath and was gabbling at me what he was feeling.
c) It was blinking obvious he had trapped wind and was having a panic attack.
I am somewhat expert in panic attacks as I had a quite a few in my 20s. I got him some Rennies and a coke to settle his stomach. The wind started coming up in droves. The St John's Ambulance arrived and checked him out. They agreed there was nothing heart related, but stressed he had over exerted and should drop out.
Mr Bianchi had to drop out. He he he. And I felt fine. He he he. I could finish the race, get the medal and finally put pay to all his showing off.
A little MF appeared on my left shoulder and said "Do it, bedwetter. Become a man. Crush this show off under your mighty boots. Do it!!!!!"
And then a little K2P2 appeared on my right shoulder and said "Don't do it, you're a bedwetter and we on CUK love you for this, you're one of the good guys. Stay with your mate and see him home alright"
I went with mini K2P2.
But it was the right thing to do. I soothed him down, and dealt with his shattered ego. Then on the way home he basically said he needs to slow up and stop showing off and enjoy his cycling. Which means we can go cycling together and actually enjoy what we are doing rather than train for the Tour de France
Today I nearly became a man, but stayed a bedwetter. It was the right thing to do
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