Me and my invisible bike.

Now, lets get this straight. I am a car driver. I hate cyclists who act like knobs. Because of that when I am cycling, I stop at all red lights, I signal to let people know where I am going. In short I obey the rules of the road, because if someone runs into me, I will sue your freaking arse off. After I have broken your snotter for you. However it seems I am wasting my time. Once I get on my bike, with my orange top, white helmet and sunburnt skin, it appears I turn invisible. It's a special type of invisible though, so not necessarily useful in a super hero / villain kind of way. I become invisible to small dicked, brain damaged, pimple faced morons in Renault Clios and other similar cars. What is it about these people? Go back to the start of the previous sentence and I appear to have answered my own question.

Bike stuff. I have now reduced the weight of my bike by 1kg, nearly all in rotational weight - new wheels, tubes and tires, and its running beautifully. Readers will obviously know that rotational weight is far more important than static weight, I won't insult your intelligence with the equations etc. Rather shocked and a tad peed off to discover state of my hubs on the old wheels, less than two months after full service by Evans. No wonder I am struggling to achieve decent regular speeds.
Yesterdays ride was 50 miles, average speed of 16.4 mph, an improvement of 1.9 over my best for a 40+ mile ride. It will now be interesting to see how my times improve on my other regular runs.
This month I have done over 300 miles for the first time. Another milestone ticked off. In August I have to do the same, as I have a target of cycling the equivalent distance to Rekjavik before September. So far I am at Split in Croatia! Getting over the Alps was easier than I expected.

Windy decisions

It's demoralising, having ridden well over 700 miles since the beginning of April, started out with an average speed of 15 mph, now three and a half months later, my average speed is exactly the same. It's not for want of effort, today I rode 17 miles, and tried my level best to go at it as hard as I could all the way. I was well stocked up on carbs, etc, yes it was windy, but so is every single ride I do. Average speed - 15.6 mph, whoopy flipping do.
You read the blogs, and people are talking about average speeds of 20+, I know it doesn't happen overnight, but surely there has to be some improvement.
So it's got me thinking - what do I ride a bike for? Belly is still there, average speed not increasing, where is the tangible result? I guess at the beginning I wouldn't have been able to ride 100km in one go, and I do enjoy just being out and about. Perhaps todays big effort with little reward is just a downer.
Had a dream bike in mind, Cannondal Super Six, and was supposed to be saving for that, instead I have given up, and now plan to just upgrade the current bike, starting with new wheels. Lots of people say wheels and tyres are the things that make the biggest difference, so now I'm going to put the experts to the test. New tyres on the birthday list, and a bit of overtime will pay for new wheels. If that doesn't make any difference I may have to accept that I am doomed to be a fat twat, and will probably die early. Oh well. Shit happens.

I'm a lucky man.

Today I set out to tick off one of my personal milestone targets, with the aim of cycling 100 km. To do this, I had to cycle somewhere where the return journey wouldn't kill me. Up steps the wonderful soup dragon, and agrees to pick me up from wherever I get to.
Off I set at 0900, having "carbed up" Get me with the lingo, plenty of fluids on board, and the knowledge that if I do nothing else, getting out for a ride, is better than being sat on my arse.
Down the road to Faversham, Whitstable, then Reculver, coast to Margate, across to Sandwich, then Deal and UP to Dover. The Deal to Dover ride was excrutiating, into the wind and nearly always up hill. Hurtled white knuckled down Jubilee Way, not daring to even glance at the cruise liners in port, and onto Marine Parade. One length up and back rounded off 63 miles, giving me a distance of about 101km. Smiley face.
My beautiful wife picked me up, and wasn't at all impressed, either with the accomplishment, or even being there. It's a personal thing I guess.

Highs and lows

Just back from a lovely week camping with the adorable soup dragon in south Devon, glad I didn't take my bike, anyone who cycles there is either:
1. Psychopathic.
2. On more steroids than the entire entry for Mr. Universe.
3. Professional.
There is one ideal cycle route from Torcross, to Strete. One half a mile of beautiful seaside flat road, burger bar at one end, pub at the other. Other than that, 16% hills, and warnings  "cyclists dismount" abound. You jokers, I'd have dismounted back in Torcross and stayed at the pub.
Anyway, a week of good breakfasts, heavy on the cholesterol, and nice beer were ideal preparation for a ride yesterday, 42 miles of absolute torture. I quite like Charing Hill, it's a good challenge and a great ride after it. However for me to even get there I have to cycle up the longest most soul destroying hill from Doddington. I hate it and dread it. It may be in fact my own personal nemesis.
Weird thing cycling, yesterday I was totally bonked, but managed 14.5 mph average. This evening, feeling good, 22 mile ride, felt like I was flying and managed a paltry 1 mph improvement. WTF?????
It's all head games. The main thing, this evening I remembered how much fun it can be.