I had my route all planned out yesterday – Oldham, Holmfirth, Holme Moss, Winnat’s, down to Buxton….some navigational issues (including forgetting to bring a complete map) around Holmfirth had me riding a little too far over to the east. By the time I realised I’d gone wrong I was quite close to Sheffield. No problem, it’s all good training miles. I headed west and realised immediately that the northwesterly breeze had become a blasting, howling wind. I grovelled along the Woodhead Pass, had to pedal down hills as well as up to maintain any kind of forward movement. I carried on to Glossop, finally reaching some shelter from the wind and headed south towards Buxton. If I was going to ride a century today it was going to be tight – I estimated that I’d have a shortfall of 10 miles or so by the time I reached Debbie’s mum’s house so I added an extra bit and descended into the Goyt Valley. The climb out played havoc with my hamstrings so I’m going to have to stretch more – I was still looking at a shortfall of a few miles.
I got to Prestbury at 92 miles. Sod it, I thought. That’ll do.
“That’ll do” because of the following:
- My tea was ready. Roast beef and yorkshire pud.
- The headwind was totally pissing me off and it was getting stronger.
- I was out of food and water.
- I had to properly stretch this hamstring sometime soon. I mean, properly stretch it, as in “sat on a carpeted floor with a cuppa whilst stretching”.
- It’s a training ride – 8 miles won’t make any bleeding difference. I’m not going to fanny around riding around the village 4 times.
- It’s as near as dammit to a century.
- Did I mention my tea was ready?
I’m claiming that as a century. No arguments.
92 miles, 6.5 hours, 14.2 mph average grovelling speed, 2820 metres climb.