Back on the bike again this morning, I was grinding my way up the long drag out of Somerton, aching legs, straining lungs, and arms telling me how unhappy they were. A noise like a bike behind me made me turn round quickly – couldn’t believe there was one so close as when I’d passed the turning to Ardly, the road had been clear.
A chap on a road bike hammered past me, going probably twice as fast, and with a cheery, comfy greeting.
Uphill.
All the advantages of a road bike become irrelevant when you’re climbing. The bike is a little lighter, but only a bit, lower tyre drag counts for zip against gravity and all the streamlining doesn’t really help at lower speeds. He was just a huge amount stronger and faster than me.
:(
By the time I got to the top of the hill he was disappearing in the distance, already near the top of Mudginwell hill. When I’d got to the top of THAT hill he was rolling into Upper Heyford, half a mile distant. He’d made more than half a mile over the distance of about 1.5 miles.
If I could leave work for the next 6 months and train full time I could never develop that kind of strength. It would be nice to know if he’s a tour rider in training, but most likely is he’s just Joe Soap on his way to work in Steeple Aston.
Bluergh.
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