Here’s a snatch of one of our forthcoming publications, Confessions of an Ageing Cyclist. If you want to read the next episodes, all you need to do is make a one-off £10 subscription payment and we’ll guarantee to send you all the on-line future episodes of the book; and once the book is finished, we’ll send you your very own free copy!
So, get that lycra on, join our peloton and enjoy Confessions of an Ageing Cyclist!
Episode 1: 6000 Calories and Counting
In the time before calorie counting, intermittent fasting and self loathing, I used to be friends with my bike.
We would go out on the narrow country lanes where we lived and map out the territory together on pieces of scrap A4, often to trying to make sense of the world in which we were growing up but all too frequently getting confused about scale, direction and orientation.
This was the time before satnav and cycling apps so whilst the maps we made were meant to be faithful A4 renditions of the world we lived in, all too frequently they confused north south east and west and meant that they suggested improbable juxtapositions and impossible short cuts. My bike and I thought didn’t care. We had each other and we got each other home safely enough after a long day of erroneous mapping.
It’s the news that Tour de France riders expend over 6000 calories a day which really took my breath away. It takes me a huge amount of planning and effort to expend 500; so quite what spending 6000 is like boggles the imagination.
Quite what looks like in terms of consumption is quite an eye opener too: conveyor belts of Mars bars, gallons of strong lager, mountains of chips, and warehouses of basmati rice and pizza galore. It sounds like you’ve died and gone to calorie heaven. Every day! Imagine that!
That was almost as attractive as the idea of performing in the Tour de France itself but clearly one could only be achieved at the expense of the other: consume 6000 calories and wave adios to the pelaton. Expend 6000 calories and the visage of wearing the yellow jersey as you sail up the Champs Elyse hovers into view, tempting you with its promise of fame, adulation and a place on the rostrum of history. Satiated on chips and carbs or a slim jim waving his stick like limbs to an adoring crowd? This was going to be a tough call but one I could not avoid. Unending delicious treats or starvation beyond the call of duty?
I couldn’t make up my mind which the better dream would be so set off on my trusted Brompton and wobbled my way down to the local chippie. A packet of pork scratchings would help me come to a conclusion.
Episode 2: Mountain, hybrid or road? The choice was mine.
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