P is for Plex Moss, Preston and PhD Party

The best Sunday morning of the year so far attracted around 50 to the shop for the 9am start. Four groups were on offer, with Cathy leading the C's while Simon Saunders and the vendor of a Shimano Ultegra gearset headed up the B group jaunt to Ryde Liverpool and Tom Hanlon led a group of either sponsored or soon-to-be-sponsored elites towards Shaley Brow. That meant we had twelve takers for Matt's A ride with particular emphasis on going long and fast just like we will have to at the 312 or Sundown Showdown later this year. Matt got going quickly, beginning with a run past the 22 club.

WELL THAT'S ONE WAY TO FARRINGTONIZE EVERYONE'S BIKE CHOICES

I set off on the right side of Row 5 behind David Rodgers while Tony Harvey pedalled alongside me and we got a good discussion about yesterday's awesome Parkrun double, namely the fact that he made it back from Thailand to take a top 10 in Ormskirk (the one I won't do because it's too technical) and my new course PB in Southport. We reached the top of the hill passing Pine Crest where half the houses appear to be up for sale, and plummeted down the descent of Formby Lane AKA Howie's WHOOSH segment before turning right towards Haskayne. At this point I was handling everything fine but no sooner had we turned onto the exposed road northwards than we went left towards Plex Moss. That meant we were in for a big push of speed all the way to Moor Lane in Ainsdale where you also see around 40 For Sale boards on a regular basis. This back road was very unnerving because it was gravel followed by ridges and then a bit of ice at the final S-bend. As such I was wondering what rules John Farrington would impose if he had the chance (choose from: only disc brakes/minimum tyres 32mm/no computers/no heart rate monitors, just break your legs) but I was relieved to see the back of this road and reach the traffic lights, even stopping momentarily with that annoying thing known as a flash of red so at least I could fix the computer magnet. As soon as we hit the A565 it was time to change on the front and this upped the pace somewhat with John Farrington taking over, which is another way of saying someone like me but without the "fitness icon" one liners which now include Shaquille O'Neal's "you are what you do REPEATEDLY". Hang on a minute, so the minimum requirement is to be perfect at everything (cough cough Man City cough cough WIGAN?) Well at least two of us were feeling pretty good about recent race success and this bit of self-serving probably saved us from blowing it early doors as we scythed our way through Ainsdale towards the golf club. Thankfully none of England's squad to face France and Ireland blocked the road this time unlike a few weeks ago so despite the best efforts of a dog walker to infuriate us before Hillside bridge it was plain sailing all the way to Southport where we battled with an Arriva bus all the way down Lord Street. I did wonder if a bit of desperation drafting would begin here but I guess a bus is even more menacing than a Vauxhall Nova so everyone stayed back and instead watched the slow cyclists and runner coming the other way (probably one of my blue flag victims from yesterday, move over here comes CHINOOK). We circumnavigated the Southport Parkrun venue and then turned left for Churchtown where me and David Rodgers were allowed to rip things up for a few miles primarily because we know when it's time to get the hammer down. In doing so we passed Dave Sims' old haunt then powered towards what used to be known as the Plough, before battering it into Banks.

I REMEMBER A PHANTOM PUNCTURE BUT NEVER A PHANTOM POTHOLE

There's a few strange things in Banks; a Your Speed monitor that always under reports your velocity, a patchwork road surface on corners but never on straights, and a warning sign at the turnoff for the exposed coast road saying "deep potholes ahead". Well I wouldn't say the potholes at the kerbside were that menacing, certainly not enough to slow us down. We hammered on into the wind at 20mph demanding more and more until handing over just past the halfway point. It was at the right hander into Hesketh Bank that a few shouts of "raise the tempo please" were heard, not from me (who always gets more aggressive than that) but from the back of the pack where they were itching for another go out front. At Tarleton lights Rob Shirley turned off for home early while the rest of us continued towards Preston. By the time we reached the TT lay by Stephen Nelson was out front and naturally that meant we were up to 22mph. Repeated shuffles sent me towards the back but it was good to talk rugby with David Rodgers' teammate John on the white Cube. He agrees with me that England need a mental mode talk, I can think of a Cervelo R5 owner who would be perfect for the job. We returned to the A59 in Penwortham but no sooner had we passed the 40mph speed sign than the most unlikely occurrence of all eventuated; Wilko's no-name rear tyre had a puncture. It was a noisy one which blew the inner tube to smithereens and he certainly did a good job of completing the stop in 8 minutes 49.24 seconds (exactly half of my Parkrun time from the day before) but I liked his neon blue pump, except that it would look silly on my Specialized or, indeed, a 2018 Cervelo R2. We set off with a reduced-to-50p Booths flapjack having vanished from the squirrel snatcher and descended under the flyover, briefly considering the main road route back before settling on the cobbled bridge. It was here that John Farrington wondered aloud how on earth do the pro riders race on this for 150 miles, to which I answered "says the one who won the cobbled sportive"........always trust in Chinook for a fast one liner, but you knew that anyway. By now the front runners and backmarkers were starting to separate a little so we kept the turns short and intense for the most part, as we began the long slog home.

CHECK YOUR DAYTIME HEADLIGHTS, NOT THAT F***ING HORN

Although the balance migraine diagnosis was disastrous for social occasions, it has cleaned me out considerably. And this would be very useful indeed as we began battling Stephen Nelson out front for the next few miles, or maybe the pressure group members weren't out this week because they did the Audax or stayed in bed. As such we got up a great turn of speed through Bamber Bridge, past the Dr Oetker pizza factory and through Midge Hall despite me ranting about the road surface and how "we're supposed to be paying for this" before remembering we were in the South Ribble. Me and Stephen Nelson remained in the lead until the junction for the Black Bull where 4x4 Man shot out of nowhere to slow up on our tail and blow his horn at us seemingly once for every remaining group member! How kind of them. With the village idiot having run off with the reject award we continued towards the Texaco past the new build houses where a few in front of me really messed up their cornering lines and I wondered if they were stretching the envelope a bit too much with hashtag fatburn riding. They would get their chance at the cafe later, but some of us had a party in Manchester to get to and as such there was no time to waste, so we vaulted over the humpback bridge in Eccleston as fast as possible before doing a reset of the running order on the approach to the RBS junction. Here, we had a bit of a hold-up as we waited for a few cars but Stefan was on hand to go for it from the off through the tight lanes of Wrightington to Hilldale, a onetime Endurance Store duathlon course. Indeed, some of the arrows from this morning's race were still out and I wondered if our race group riders had simply gone straight there. After slowing for a horse, we were hurtling towards Hunter's with a shrinking number of riders available to share the workload but at least no-one ended up in the air this time and with even the white van man indicating early enough to keep us from braking we could go for it one last time over the Hoscar Moss.

TIME TO RING THE BELL FOR ALEX, FROM MY DECKCHAIR

I'm guessing the HMCC road race will be on Sunday 2 September. That'll mean we have to put me in a deckchair to do the lap counting, ring the bell and shout YOLO as they begin the final lap. On today's form there's every chance Alex might be the one getting those famous letters shouted at him because as soon as Stefan powered away from me on the Hoscar Moss he took his son (who I mistakenly called his brother) with him. Either that means Stefan's a lot better looking than me or I went into John Farrington "don't think just pedal" mode. Either way, it wasn't the best advert for Project Half Ironman, even if I held onto Matt's wheel once he overtook me. David Rodgers turns left for Newburgh in time to watch his team beat the muppets from southwest London but that meant only six of us were left for the final run home. Matt handed over at the Lathom sign leaving the race for first loser to be disputed between anyone not called Alex, he's simply unstoppable right now, I mean what if KTM or Chronomaster need a junior division? I crested the top of the final climb with Stefan, Stephen and Tony and we rode in together before going our separate ways. For me that meant one last YOLO to my front door, eating the quickest sandwich ever, and diving in the bath before driving as fast as possible to Manchester for a post PhD party for one of the members of a local opera company. The food was first class, the choice of non-alcoholic drinks even better (J2O FTW), and I even got to play the piano for a few people who wanted to sing! So a few good people in Manchester now know me. The Piccadilly station taxi wars featuring 7,000 disgruntled Chelsea fans  were just unbelievable as I dropped a friend off at the station but come 7:30pm it was time to head home at the end of a brilliant weekend. Well done to everyone today, that's how you do your job and push on to bigger and better things.

Now for the results, powered by J2O:

Distance: 83.04km
Time: 2:45:32
Average Speed: 30.1kmh
Dead Inner Tubes: 1
Stupid Drivers: 3
Horses: 1 
Parkrun Legends: 2
Post Ride Nutrition: Quick cheese sandwich and apple then pastries, onion rings, cheese, salads and best of all CAKE at the St John's Church function room in Manchester

REJECT OF THE RIDE: The 4x4 driver
(Blowing the horn eleven times won't make us vanish into thin air, I wonder was he later seen at Manchester Piccadilly?)

See you all next week if the forecasted snow clears. March winds will blow, and we shall have snow? PLEASE, NO.............