Welton Toffee
Player Valuation: £40m
From my blog thing....
The alarm went off at 5:45 am. If you've ever seen Michael Mcintyre you'll know what I mean when I say it was a 'painful' one....
Anyway, we raided the breakfast bar in the restaurant (despite the fact that it wasn't open) and headed into the city centre. If any of you are wondering what the hell I'm on about, then I was taking part in the Norwich 100 mile cycle ride. We were riding from Norwich City Hall to Norwich Cathedral, in possibly the most ridiculous route between these two places ever conceived by man, that is, going via the north Norfolk coast...
We set off at 7:20, just as the heavens opened and it started pissing down. This would become something of a reccuring theme throughout the day. It felt good to be back on my Bianchi road bike, it's one sexy piece of kit. Unfortunately my speedo decided that in fact I didn't want to know how fast I was going or how far I'd travelled, and refused to work at all during the ride. Which was nice. Mercifully this was the only mechanical problem for the day and my bike was faultless.
The first rest stop was in Reepham, but seeing as we'd only riden 10 miles or so we decided to crack on and didn't stop. This part of the route was quite pretty, lots of old villages with names ending in 'ham'. Good roads too. After 30 miles we stopped at Hindringham ( see what I mean about 'ham'!) village hall for a cup of tea and a snack. Was still feeling fit at this point and raring to get back on the bike, despite the awful weather. Was beyond the point of caring about the rain, resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be dry and warm for the rest of the day.
A few more miles and we joined the coastal road at Blakeney. Now, I'm sure this part of the ride would have been stunning if the sun was shining. As it was, it was pretty bleak. My riding buddy Malc was struggling by now (he'd had little or no training through illness) and so I was out on my own. Was still enjoying the ride though, legs felt fresh, bike felt good, really good ride.
We arrived at the compulsory 30 minute stop in Sherringham in good time. Malc had decided enough was enough though and pulled out, he'd done awesome to get to 50 miles. So now I really was alone. Well, I say alone, apart from the thousands of other people taking part but you know what I mean. From this point on it got a lot tougher. The stop hadn't done anything for my legs and I never got up to anywhere near the speed of the first section. The fact that it started to get hilly didn't help either, whoever said Norfolk is flat is a blatant liar.
I've been told Cromer is a very nice seaside town. I'm sure it is. But perhaps a rainy Sunday afternoon didn't highlight it's best qualities. Angry people in cars filled up the roads as waves battered against the beach. It was a pretty grim place to be. I did get my first whiff of fish and chips though, which had me craving throughout the rest of the ride. It was a long old way to the next scheduled stop at Horsey Mill, and it turned out to be a tough, tough drag. I had to put all my effort in to keep the legs moving and was grateful for the nice steady descents which helped preserve energy. Trouble was, this usually meant another climb was coming! I got to a little village called Walcott and decided I needed a rest. I collapsed on a handily placed wall and stuffed some energy bars down my kneck. I was really beginning to doubt whether my legs would hold out for another 30-40 miles but forced myself to carry on.
I don't remember much between then and the stop at Horsey Mill. My mind was elsewhere and it was painful. Very painful. My legs had started to cramp up, meaning that every rev was a struggle. I arrived at the rest stop in the driving rain and locked myself in a toilet cubicle to change into some dry gear. It took me about ten minutes to get changed as I was shivering so much. Not sure I've ever felt as miserable as those few minutes! I got a text off Mum saying that they were waiting at a rest stop in Horstead. Being quite dopey by this point I had a rush of excitement thinking that's where I was. However, glancing at the map showed that I was roughly 20 miles away. Bollocks. I knew I had to crack on before I got too cold so dragged myself back onto the bike.
A woman with a rather nice (steady on...) Giant road bike (why what did you think I was going to say?!) pulled out of the stop just before me so I followed her wheel for a few miles. Amazing how much someone can drag you along just by staying in their slipstream to shelter from the wind. The next part of the route saw us riding through the Norfolk Broads. Well, not actually through the Norfolk Broads, we were on roads obviously, but christ, what a desolate place. Nothing but flat, open fields for miles and miles. I was desperate to see the 20 miles to go sign and it seemed to take an absolute age to appear. Before I got to this point I had my worst moment of the ride. Having stopped at a set of traffic lights I tried to set off again, only for my WHOLE left leg to cramp up. I've never felt anything like it before and had to hobble off onto the verge until it eased off.
Somehow I managed to make it to the Horstead stop with 7 miles to go. I could hardly string a sentence together but Malc mixed me some energy drink and off I went vowing to finish the ride. Finally I arrived back in Norwich and for some unknown reason (maybe it was the energy drink, maybe I was desperate to finish, maybe I'm just an idiot) I decided it'd be a good idea to really go for it in the last mile. I stamped on the pedals and overtook about 10 other riders, ignoring 2 red lights in the process. As I swung into the cathedral grounds the applause was very satisfying, although not quite as satisfying as the cold bottle of water handed to me at the finish line. I staggered off my bike to find my folks with my legs refusing me the ability to walk in a straight line. I was broken, exhausted and soaked to the bone, but I'd done it! I was given a leaflet advertising another 100 mile ride in a couple of weeks, maybe not....
The alarm went off at 5:45 am. If you've ever seen Michael Mcintyre you'll know what I mean when I say it was a 'painful' one....
Anyway, we raided the breakfast bar in the restaurant (despite the fact that it wasn't open) and headed into the city centre. If any of you are wondering what the hell I'm on about, then I was taking part in the Norwich 100 mile cycle ride. We were riding from Norwich City Hall to Norwich Cathedral, in possibly the most ridiculous route between these two places ever conceived by man, that is, going via the north Norfolk coast...
We set off at 7:20, just as the heavens opened and it started pissing down. This would become something of a reccuring theme throughout the day. It felt good to be back on my Bianchi road bike, it's one sexy piece of kit. Unfortunately my speedo decided that in fact I didn't want to know how fast I was going or how far I'd travelled, and refused to work at all during the ride. Which was nice. Mercifully this was the only mechanical problem for the day and my bike was faultless.
The first rest stop was in Reepham, but seeing as we'd only riden 10 miles or so we decided to crack on and didn't stop. This part of the route was quite pretty, lots of old villages with names ending in 'ham'. Good roads too. After 30 miles we stopped at Hindringham ( see what I mean about 'ham'!) village hall for a cup of tea and a snack. Was still feeling fit at this point and raring to get back on the bike, despite the awful weather. Was beyond the point of caring about the rain, resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be dry and warm for the rest of the day.
A few more miles and we joined the coastal road at Blakeney. Now, I'm sure this part of the ride would have been stunning if the sun was shining. As it was, it was pretty bleak. My riding buddy Malc was struggling by now (he'd had little or no training through illness) and so I was out on my own. Was still enjoying the ride though, legs felt fresh, bike felt good, really good ride.
We arrived at the compulsory 30 minute stop in Sherringham in good time. Malc had decided enough was enough though and pulled out, he'd done awesome to get to 50 miles. So now I really was alone. Well, I say alone, apart from the thousands of other people taking part but you know what I mean. From this point on it got a lot tougher. The stop hadn't done anything for my legs and I never got up to anywhere near the speed of the first section. The fact that it started to get hilly didn't help either, whoever said Norfolk is flat is a blatant liar.
I've been told Cromer is a very nice seaside town. I'm sure it is. But perhaps a rainy Sunday afternoon didn't highlight it's best qualities. Angry people in cars filled up the roads as waves battered against the beach. It was a pretty grim place to be. I did get my first whiff of fish and chips though, which had me craving throughout the rest of the ride. It was a long old way to the next scheduled stop at Horsey Mill, and it turned out to be a tough, tough drag. I had to put all my effort in to keep the legs moving and was grateful for the nice steady descents which helped preserve energy. Trouble was, this usually meant another climb was coming! I got to a little village called Walcott and decided I needed a rest. I collapsed on a handily placed wall and stuffed some energy bars down my kneck. I was really beginning to doubt whether my legs would hold out for another 30-40 miles but forced myself to carry on.
I don't remember much between then and the stop at Horsey Mill. My mind was elsewhere and it was painful. Very painful. My legs had started to cramp up, meaning that every rev was a struggle. I arrived at the rest stop in the driving rain and locked myself in a toilet cubicle to change into some dry gear. It took me about ten minutes to get changed as I was shivering so much. Not sure I've ever felt as miserable as those few minutes! I got a text off Mum saying that they were waiting at a rest stop in Horstead. Being quite dopey by this point I had a rush of excitement thinking that's where I was. However, glancing at the map showed that I was roughly 20 miles away. Bollocks. I knew I had to crack on before I got too cold so dragged myself back onto the bike.
A woman with a rather nice (steady on...) Giant road bike (why what did you think I was going to say?!) pulled out of the stop just before me so I followed her wheel for a few miles. Amazing how much someone can drag you along just by staying in their slipstream to shelter from the wind. The next part of the route saw us riding through the Norfolk Broads. Well, not actually through the Norfolk Broads, we were on roads obviously, but christ, what a desolate place. Nothing but flat, open fields for miles and miles. I was desperate to see the 20 miles to go sign and it seemed to take an absolute age to appear. Before I got to this point I had my worst moment of the ride. Having stopped at a set of traffic lights I tried to set off again, only for my WHOLE left leg to cramp up. I've never felt anything like it before and had to hobble off onto the verge until it eased off.
Somehow I managed to make it to the Horstead stop with 7 miles to go. I could hardly string a sentence together but Malc mixed me some energy drink and off I went vowing to finish the ride. Finally I arrived back in Norwich and for some unknown reason (maybe it was the energy drink, maybe I was desperate to finish, maybe I'm just an idiot) I decided it'd be a good idea to really go for it in the last mile. I stamped on the pedals and overtook about 10 other riders, ignoring 2 red lights in the process. As I swung into the cathedral grounds the applause was very satisfying, although not quite as satisfying as the cold bottle of water handed to me at the finish line. I staggered off my bike to find my folks with my legs refusing me the ability to walk in a straight line. I was broken, exhausted and soaked to the bone, but I'd done it! I was given a leaflet advertising another 100 mile ride in a couple of weeks, maybe not....
