6% there - ouch

Well this blog has me thinking - until my registration is in and training really gets underway, there's not much progress, so I'm considering adding in some personal stuff: one to contemplate.

Anyway, this weekend we had a garage sale, which isn't the first step in me writing about all things other than bike rides, but provided an ideal opportunity for me to escape work and kids for a few moments on my own to really road test the bike.

My job was to put up the posters for the ride, and direction signs, for which a bike is ideal - you can jump off and leave a bike far more easily than you can in a car.

This little exercise offered up a number of salutory lessons:
1. If you're carrying bags on the handles of a bike, make sure they can't get caught in the spokes!
2. Cars regard you as a menace on a bike, even on an empty road at 7.30am on a Sunday morning.
3. Super comfy gel saddles aren't!

I cycled out a mere three miles - six miles in total, and although my legs didn't ache afterwards (which I find reassuring) I did have some saddlesore bits - will have to get that looked at (the saddle, that is).

I also didn't get above fourth gear on a bike with around 10, which I'm sure must mean something rather pathetic about the way I pedal. I have therefore made a mental note to ensure I'm at the Bath departure fairly sharpish on 'd-day' if I want to get to the finish post before last orders.

Still, I have 10 months to up my riding prowess up from six miles to almost a hundred.

I had already been warned about drivers not paying much attention to cyclists and advised to wear a proper cycling shirt as drivers are more patient if they think you're a speedy, experienced rider rather than Aunty Aggie ambling off to buy stuff from the market and taking in the view on the way. (Plus these shirts ensure you stay a decent temperature throughout the ride. Note to Father Christmas if you're reading this....)

I find this sad. I was taught to allow as much space for a rider as for a car, simply because if you don't and they hit a pothole as you're passing, you can say goodbye to your paintwork. And I really don't see how me always being in a last minute rush from one place to the next means I have the right to endanger someone else.

(Note re permanent rush mode: Mother with small children not only means social secretary and taxi driver, but that simply leaving the house can take well over half an hour whilst small child changes mind about shoes, ticks Smokey the toy cat into bed, comes back to go to loo just as you've locked the door, and insists on huge hugs goodbye of any remaining folks, several times over.)

Anyway, I'm off to surf for some super padded underwear for this ride... although I dread to think what this will bring up on a Google search, so maybe I'll just stick to some of the cycling sites.