Mid Week Motivation - The "No Regrets" column

I know I didn't upload a report on Sunday what with a host of St Helens Tri results to account for, plus a whole afternoon of work and the little matter of what turned out to be the biggest game in the history of professional sport taking place over in Houston. But I thought I'd do a mini-edition of the 27 miles I spent with the group, together with some thoughts that came to my mind in the immediate aftermath of that show featuring Lady Gaga and why so much of it relates to what you should all strive for in 2017. But first, back to the ride itself.

We set off with a run up Ruff Lane which was surprisingly quiet apart from Paul commenting that I was very hushed on this occasion. It was really because the Liverpool match the day before had been so awful (and the rugby wasn't much better, but hey who cares when you can just score a touchdown) but we had quite a bit of scarred road surface to dodge early doors, just the sort of thing you don't really notice when running the other way as I was last week as I continue to discover new routes and more strength busting hills to slog up (did I mention I'm 5 pounds heavier/stronger than at the turn of the year) This infamous tendency for using the Big Gear has led to the antiquated chainset of old (you might have heard about this particular one) being replaced with a 52/36, as in real man's gears, and these were especially useful on a rehearsal of the West Lancs Triathlon route. We were off this corse quickly and were soon en route to the Plough, doing a quick left-right here at the top of Dicks Lane then getting up a nice turn of Big Gear Speed towards Vale Lane and Stormy Corner. However,the weather was anything but stormy, in fact it was so sunny I didn't even notice the 3c temperature. Maybe it's the talk of the new build between Ormskirk and Burscough that's raised my spirits on the back of some real bad issues with the house, but it's changed the last couple of weeks nonetheless. We continued into Newburgh and then down the slight slope towards Parbold, where we passed the village hall hosting a gig featuring me in a few months time (April 22nd at 7:30, date in the diary now please). After at it was up the Common, where Christine in particular menaced the riders around her; some dropped back on this first real climb but not the new Iron Lady, proving that strength and conditioning training really is the way to go (or just eat like Tom Brady, it's working for me, but more on him later). For us it was a case of dodge Stoney Lane and Hunter's Hill, much to Shaun's delight (Darren will be spitting blood at the screen reading this, just ring my dad he'll send a few baby wipes round) and now I was out front with Matthew as we decided to warm the group up properly through to Eccleston. This led to the usual colour commentary including "grid" time twenty six and "Watch the dogs.......it's OK she's seen us". This kept everyone entertained no end despite us really getting on with it as the sun came out to warm us through. From here it was over the humpback bridge towards Midge Hall, where the call came to change the front once more so naturally Alan questioned me as to where had the half wheeling tendencies gone. It must be that everyone's showing a bit more Army Mentality nowadays. Anyway, we carried on to Croston, where there's a three day festival coming up soon over the last weekend in February. I hope the proprietor of Choc Amor has a stall given how good his rarefied chocolates were at the church hall in Aughton last week (Orange Jalfrezi FTW).  However, we wouldn't take in the exposed road towards Rufford today, instead settling on the old school return leg through Mawdesley.

The next few miles were quite sedate as a sense of déjà vu came over me; all those times I tootled down this stretch of road back in the day with Southport en route to Rufford Marina before the pressures of don't spend money/lose body fat/remember you've got that Limar photoshoot came to pass. For today the bigger worry was that the road through to the church in the middle of the village was so battle scarred it would send us to the floor and never have I had to shout "F*** this" any louder. Well apart from when I once found a crank arm attached to my shoe, but you probably remember that one anyway. This could have cost me the Limar job on the spot had I ended up landing on my face but luckily the combination of 25mm tyres and a bit of bunny hopping did the trick (what an upgrade my new gym is.........) It wasn't long before we'd reached the Eagle and Child whereupon we rounded up a few slower riders before setting sail for home via the Hoscar Moss. Here, Christine went from B/A group pretender to A group lady of steel as she started killing off the weaker men one by one! Alan looked suitably impressed by how hard she was making him work, even if he des do 15 mile runs at sub 6:30 mile pace every Saturday, and so did the 312 crew coming the other way. After beating a big lorry at the Hoscar Moss petrol station we completed the ride by pootling down Dark Lane at tempo intensity as we strived to make it back to the shop for 9. Despite me shouting YOLO on the way up Greetby Matt reliably informed us that it was 9:02, but it was still well in time for me to head for home, get a quick bath, go and see my dad for a brunch (you know I did the ride in minimal breakfast, oh the pressures of being photoshopped) and then go to work from noon. A great way to start the day, and with a bit of luck I'll have more chances to do at least half if not more of the regular ride as well on upcoming Sundays.

Now for the results, in association with Croston's new startup business, Choc Amor:

Distance: 43.4km
Time: 1:31:03
Average Speed: 28.6kmh
Lorries: 1
Dogs: 3
Star Early Risers: Christine for being so full of energy for the A group/Carl for acclimatising so well to British weather once more

REJECT OF THE RIDE: Mawdesley Potholes
(Come on council, collect all the wheelie bins on the same day and use the efficiency savings to fix that bloody road)

And now onto the part you simply MUST read. How attitude and mentality wins over ability, or why hard work beats talent.

If we remember one moment from the 2017 club dinner it will be the pictures of Andrew Disley on that white Boardman wearing, you guessed it, all white, barely able to complete a moderate climb. You're thinking as you see that picture, "he's not up to much is he?" And he's far from the only such example. On Sunday we witnessed the greatest of all time play the greatest game the world of professional sport has ever seen. Tom Brady won his fifth Super Bowl as he brought the New England Patriots back from 28-3 down to beat the Atlanta Falcons in overtime. This comeback simply blew Istanbul 2005 into the Texas dustbowl it was that stunning to watch. But it reinforced why I took to watching the game in the first place all those years ago after my trip to Denver (lucky for me they're also a good team, imagine if I'd been sent to Cleveland, how does 4-32 over the last 36 games sound?) But here's the really salient point.

Plenty of people are more than capable of putting their mind to a challenge, then going out and doing the hard work even when it's so harsh out there or they think "this is going to be so tough I can't do this". But when did you last come to a amazing club like HMCC (or it could be St Helens Tri) and came across 198 people better than you? That would be never. Yet back in 2000 exactly that many people were chosen ahead of some nobody called Tom Brady in the NFL draft. It doesn't mean a load of talent scouts are idiots. It is simply a case of Brady (and Mr Disley) proving that you really can come from anywhere, and get to anywhere you really want. Indeed several things have happened over the last few days that brought all of this into even sharper perspective.

Remember that big guy on the Boardman? Well he's jut been signed by the KTM race team on the back of a year when he raced alongside the likes of Mark Cavendish at the national championships. And all while supporting the local race scene, and all of THIS while being the top points scorer at the Litherland Circuit League. How's that for a turnaround in five years? And that's before we get onto people who used to struggle to hang onto the back of the B group. Many of them have gone on to some challenges you would have thought impossible, like 200 miles round Mallorca or climbing Stoney Lane 100 times (granted I think that would make me a bit dizzy, I'm sure our resident KTM racer remembers that descent from back in ancient history when I was actually capable of riding at his pace). But inherent in all these inspiring stories (and you might have heard about the HMCC best newcomer who's entered her first Ironman) is one thing: the ability to throw caution to the wind, challenge one's fears and go for it like there's no tomorrow.

Sometimes it's as simple as knowing what you really want, and then it's a case of how bad you want it. Now I know that line is trotted out ad nauseaum every year when a certain singing contest hits ITV every autumn but some of the plays I've witnessed in the last few Super Bowls, including that incredible catch Julian Edelman made on Sunday night to keep the game alive, bear all the hallmarks of someone willing to risk everything. Who knew if he was going to come out of that play in one piece or unable to play the game again (surrounded as he was by 400lb worth of defenders). Another good example: for the second year in a row the winning touchdown was scored by someone smaller than ME. Yes, really. The two men in question (CJ Anderson and James White) are in their mid 20's and I'll bet good money now, and I'm fairly confident that I'll win,that these guys won't be able to walk properly come the age of 40. But they don't think of that. They think about extracting every last drop out of themselves to win it all; over stretch for the goal line, get both feet in bounds, and so it goes on. Because they want it so bad. Like nobody you'll ever likely meet. But they know it and remind themselves of it daily; you really do only live once. Why settle for the safety of what you know is easy when you can transcend limits, make the most of that one chance we all get, and inspire others to do the same? No-one saw Andrew getting that KTM contract even three years ago. But he did it. No one thought someone picked 199th in a draft would become the greatest NFL player ever. But he did it. All because they decided what they really wanted, and worked and worked and worked for it. Harder than anyone else. Harder than even they probably thought when they first started out.

It's your call. It's your turn. It's your One Chance. Racing, sportive, charity challenge or (dare I say) Ironman; go for it. And most of all, remember: No Regrets.

See you on the start line.