, there were about 80 people out for the club run this morning.Nobody up for an honest training ride, but some of the usual suspects (from the training group) showed their faces when a 19mph group was called, and this put a few people off who would otherwise have stepped up to the mark.
This left Ian with a healthy-looking group to take off on one of "Mr Munnery's Magical Mystery Meanders" down to the cafe at an advertised 17-18 mph. A "normal" 18mph group followed them, and then the people who like to hide behind the fat bloke
in the 17mph group. The rest went in a combined 15mph/Just For Fun group (including a 13 year old who looked just like a proper cyclist on his mini Bianchi - albeit a cyclist who'd been put through a boil wash and shrunk. Honestly, Mr Green (senior) looked like a giant next to him).We had about 10 people in the 17mph group, but only 5 or so of us prepared to do the work into a fairly stiff headwind. The ride out was fairly uneventful, except for a quick "bit of advice" about group etequette after the busy streets of Reigate, but with so few people (able) to contribute, it was fairly ragged and lacking the discipline I normally like in my group. So we turned left at Partridge to beat the queue at the cafe.
After the tea and bacon baguette, I was seduced by the promise of a so-called steady group to Box Hill. A piece of advice - if you want a steady group, never, ever let Marek onto the front of it. And, if he does get to the front, don't have the temerity to freewheel past him as he pedals furiously down a descent
.Anyway, I held it together over my least favourite climb in the area (the one before Box Hill), but lead the group between the hills, and talked myself out of a good climb "You've defeated yourself before the climb begins" wise words indeed from the lanky Polish racer.
After huffing my way up Box Hill, I managed to hang on (just about) down the main road and through the horrible "camel humps" to the roundabout and as the children squabbled about who'd done the most work from Box Hill village to there, Alan M and I found ourselves back on the front. After the station, we decided on a scientific experiment - everybody would go left through the posh estate except me. I'd go straight on, and if I got to the little climb before the Chipstead Valley run we would say that my way was faster ("by about 50%" some cheeky imp stated). Anyway I got back to Regelino's with no sign of the "posh estate gang" and was just about to claim victory for common sense and right-thinking people everywhere when Alan and Paul-on-the-Pearson turned up with some feeble excuse about a puncture slowing their group down.
A very agreeable latte and pecan-toffee slice later, I was off for the final leg, a steady cruise home via the delights of downtown Croydon, West Wickham, and the Bethlehem hospital bypass. A final grovel up the hill from Shortlands station and I was free to collapse on the sofa with a chip butty and a pint of fizzy water.
No idea of my average speed, but I think I managed an acceptably agreeable 16sph (smiles per hour) average happiness rating.
