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  • Harry Says “Put in an extra loop down the coast road”
  • Harry Says “Ride your bike!”
  • Harry Says “Just a steady 2 to 3 hours”

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Cramped Styles and Coke Cans - Curtain Call 2019

Neon Red's picture
on Sun, 29/12/2019 - 20:13
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The final HMCC Sunday of the decade saw a gathering of around 40 at the shop today for the 9am start. Despite some protestations that I should have been with the Race group, their ranks didn't seem to swell beyond John Hill and Rob Shirley while Mick scrambled to sort out the C/D situation and the B group split from Dave Atkinson's 15-strong cohort featuring yours truly. His plan was simple: ride somewhere and return home to eat more. As such we set off up Ruff Lane, with DNA and the face of St Helens Tri coaching team still arguing as the lights changed to green.

WHO'S BEEN ON GARDENING LEAVE THEN? NOT ME

I set off on the right side of the third row alongside the ride leader who conveniently changed the subject to how I was out of retirement to do serious things on Sundays. In other words don't bother embarrassing myself at the North West Sunday Cross Country League (it's more a case of the PLS team being too good this year, Everton fans know what it's like to be in that position) and wanting to prioritise both the Sunday club run and the Thursday morning "don't do it easy" long run for the Trafford 10k fundraising effort. We went down the West Lancs Triathlon bike route until the T-junction to turn left for the race route but today we went right past Lyelake garden centre, for which I have a £20 voucher to spend on either my current home or the boom I've spotted closer to the Automatic Premier League Win Venue also known as the Old Post Office. Or I could spend it in Culcheth next time Roxanne has me at the EKA office.......... Anyway there's another cryptic clue dropped into the system, for now we were off to the Stanley Gate where Keith got BOOED like Everton fans jeered the VAR later on, and then we went left for the Bickerstaffe TT course where apparently someone couldn't roll fast enough down the hill (amazingly not the one using the "Petra 79" offense - you didn't know Petra Nemcova was vegan did you). So we were down to 14 riders as we turned towards Kirkby and typically me and Paul Manning, aboard his new Canyon Endurace, drew the short straw with a road which looked like it had last been resurfaced when Winston Churchill was running the country. Finally, we hit the T-junction for Melling and turned left at the Pear Tree where we meandered through the lanes to Maghull, me conveniently superglued to a Texaco tanker on the way. He buggered off before Maricourt and we were on our own again across the A59 and in Maghull itself, before we handed over just after the Sefton Meadows.

SOMEONE IN BLUE DRAWS THE BEST EVER - THAT'S WHY THEY FIRED MARCO SILVA

The stretch through Lunt saw Steve Williams alongside the ultimate opponent Tom Hanlon who was getting just as much grief as me about the choice of group. Well that makes two of us for the next commercial involving skinny cyclists, musicians and Paloma then, it lends a new meaning to the phrase "call my agent" or is it "ALLEZ ALLEZ ALLEZ?" Anyway,after one misdirection incident which nearly took us down a dead end, we turned left for the Hightown bends where for once I wasn't the weakest on the corners. I think we know who that was, but we passed the Pheasant and crossed the carriageway where we weren't supposed to, before slaying some mud en route to the Causeway, where all hell broke loose just as we approached the shop selling Cara the Caad13. Or I could just buy an S5  of Kevin Murphy so he has space for the F12..........

THE TAXI'S ONLY BIG ENOUGH FOR ME, BUT I'M SURE WE COULD HIRE A LIMOUSINE

He Who Corners Like A Limousine decided to carry on right to return home for the match, but at exactly the same time Colin had a rear puncture, his Continental Grand Prix GT had gone down. I didn't get to time the puncture stop as my timing for the ride as a whole is on my running watch at the moment but I got a good chat with Stephen Graham about my latest profile picture and the plans for the BTF level 2 in Lancaster. Yep, I'll be looking for live music on the Saturday nights in the University City but I'll be on the Kopparberg alcohol free and nothing else. Meanwhile Colin got his rear wheel back in, but no sooner had we got going than DNA also had his Continental go BOOM. That's right, BOOM TIMES TWO. His was a 4 Seasons model also known as a right b*****d to refit and it had me giggling at the thought of Halfords ringing the agency needing proficient cyclists to star in a bike repair advert - I'd happily ride to such an assignment on the winter bike (Petra the Porsche) but I'd like nothing more than to have all 15 of us in the commercial, getting out of a limousine at Halfords HQ (sorry Kevin Murphy, NO groupies) Eventually with both me and Charlotte losing all temperature and pressure levels, the ride resumed and we crossed the bypass to do Tour de Formby, which incorporated a rare trip terrorising Gores Lane and back out at the Grapes, before crossing the Greggs Vegan Steak Bake Outlet Roundabout for the golf club, where we spotted a stunning Ferrari known as Rihanna the Red Rocket zoom past. We re-emerge at Woodvale where we stuck with the A565 rather than the coast road, all the way down to King Kenny HQ and this was our opportunity to get onto the Splashworld Triathlon bike route which I know you'll all want to race in 2020, especially when it coincides with the Liverpool Premier League title party. We pressed on to Pleasureland and hit speeds of over 20mph on the restart, taking in the run route as we did so (in other words where you have to be the world champion of everything). A left past Fairway sent us right onto the coast road, where the splits started to happen.

THE ONE DAY YOU LEAVE THE SECOND BOTTLE AT HOME - LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE NOW CHINOOK

All things being normal I usually bring two bottles on a club ride. But it was two full days since a TOPO piss up and I was pretty well hydrated, so I saved a kilo of weight and went with just the one bottle. In addition it reminded me just how awful the yellow cages now look and that matte pink (just for Ste Francis) has to be my new cage choice. However, I did end up feeling more than a bit guilty when Charlotte started to struggle at the sandworks because she was cramping up and, worse still, no-one had salt tablets or spare water. We turned around at the Plough and retraced our steps to check on her, before locating an off licence where a few took on Coke or Red Bull. Amazingly, I bought neither despite normally being the sugar monster - I still had one bar left despite using this opportunity to down my second fill of fuel off the Sainsbury's boom counter (a KIND vegan chocolate mint special). Meanwhile Kevin Murphy looked forward to his bottle of vodie at home and DNA managed to drop his own bike against the wall, trying everything to beat the silver Ford Fiesta who'd just had it out with us for the Reject award. We were now good to go and get our skates on for home via the Meols Cop Moss which meant that those who really wanted to avoid the cafe were quite happy because they expected a few around them to go weak. Well that wouldn't happen today, there's a big difference between pound for pound body strength and ability to sustain max heart rates over 10 beast sessions a week (guess who always falls at the final hurdle). John Faz appeared on the front approximately 485 metres from his turnoff for home, while the rest of us still had a headwind and a battle back to Ormskirk ahead of us.

TOO HOT, CALL THE POLICE AND THE FIRE MAN (OR THE MAN ON FIRE)

By now the group had split into two with a few helping Charlotte back to Ormskirk while me and John Jenkins took over the front on the way to Heatons Bridge and the High on Bikes factory, which of course is where I got my gilet from. It's also the surplus team kit which I used on my agency/coaching page photo shoot, but it flaps about a bit when going for it into the wind. As such it was quite a breezy final few miles past the Kicking Donkey where a car alarm just wouldn't shut up (as in call the police) before we crossed the A59 into the big O. My gilet might imply fire but the only person who was actually on fire was JJ who vaulted up the hill over the zebra crossing to take the final YOLO of the decade. The remaining riders continued through the one way system and went separate ways, with me extending the ride a little through Town Green and past the co-op before one final YOLO down Winifred Lane saw me home just before 1pm having done 53 miles, which I followed with an Edge Hill weights session (remember it's my heart, not body strength, which is the limiter) and then onto the Old Post Office to watch the red men make it 55 points from 57 and take another giant step towards the championship. Well done to everyone who ride today, the 2020 season has already begun!

Now for the results, brought to you by EKA Modelling and Casting Agency:

Distance: 84.81km
Time: 2:59:21
Average Speed: 28.37kmh
Dead Inner Tubes: 2
Stars of Halfords Commercial: 13 if I get my way
Car Horns: 1 Ford Fiesta
Hors Cat Climbs: 0
Post Ride Nutrition: Tabbouleh and couscous, two gluten free mince pies and a vegan protein shake (Roxanne will be the first to approve)

REJECT OF THE RIDE: Silver Ford Fiesta
(Toyota drivers are sensible people, buy an Aygo instead)

And so ends another year, or as Wayne Rooney would say, another 12 months or so. Sorry I couldn't be a better teammate in 2019 but a lot of things have been going on in the background demanding my commitment elsewhere. I've definitely cordoned off the first three Sundays of 2020 before it's all hands on feck for the BTF level 2 in Lancaster, hence the change in my FB profile pic. Let's sing Auld Lang Syne on Tuesday night and go smash another year!

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