The Prologue

"prologue or prolog, is an opening to a story that establishes the setting and gives background details, often some earlier story that ties into the main one, and other miscellaneous information."


It is also the day of the Tour de France......


The seeds are planted and from these small seeds grand oaks will grow. Thanks to a government  who is cutting costs throughout the country I am able to purchase a new bike on a scheme which results in a 49% discount. Not only has DC replaced the dour Brown but he fuels my dreams to roll down a starting ramp in London and finish with champagne in hand on the Champs-Elysees - the long night of election night TV has given me my first reward.

So the Bike is bought and I know now that there are two kinds of bike. These are simply the Bike you have and Bike you see on the road and want. The very second you buy your dream bike you see someone else with a bike you want more -it looks lighter ( something I am told is important when I weigh in at 16st), it is definitely quicker ( this im sure is due to the Bike and not the person) . The only comfort you have is that other cyclists are looking at your bike thinking the same. Spare a thought for the chap looking at me on my Bianchi wishing that it was him.


The Bianchi is as light as two feathers black with red and white flashes it is the best bike in my work parking yard.

It is therefore a great disappointment for this Italian flying machine to find out that its new owner is none other than Adam " Lanterne Rouge" Bindman. We met for the first time last night and this morning made our first entrance into the world of cycling. Banging the flying machine off every wall in the house and stumbling up our stairs was hard going. Crossing the road a mission and as for changing gear its is only comparable to attempting a rubicks cube when blindfolded. But 25 mins later, two aggressive climbs in Hyde park and a fantastic lead out from a red bus I have completed my first ride. With less tongue in cheek than before I feel I can say I am a cyclist......I get in the lift at work wondering how long it will be before I can cycle with no hands on the handle bars as I zip up my cycling top and celebrate the final sprint into Paris.....12 months might be enough. If not it is only 2 years to the Olympics so maybe I can pull out this move as I power past Chris Hoy on the velodrome straight.

However weeks of watching the Tour and 28 years of life have taught me something very valuable. You cant win the tour without your team and you cant get to Paris as an green behind the ears cyclist without your friends. So the scene is set I have a bike I just a group of like minded friends willing to look beyond the obvious  challenges which London to Paris sets. So with great excitement I send out an email to those who I think will be as enthused as I am about this  and wait.........Like Kevin Costner and his corn field I have a sense this should work out, if it does not im certain Kevin would have been happy hitting home runs by himself.


So I build it and hope they will come....

I am a cyclist

This week I am a cyclist. 

This should not be a surprise to anyone - the tour de france is in full flow and the continued efforts of our Mayor ensures that cycling is on my agenda. I have no doubt that I can cycle, after all we are on minature raliegh bikes as soon as we have grown out of duplo. Progressing quickly from little red kids bikes onto lurid yellow and green mountain bikes, before a brief flirtation with a road bike and the associated discomfort of a proper bike saddle. It is here that most of us stop our association with bikes. Britain is cold, the roads not smooth and those who drive on them not used to seeing cyclists. Years of hearing our parents mutter under their breath on a bank holiday "bloody cyclists", and despite the fact that even a fish can apparently ride a bike, we are conditioned to think that cycling is not a sport we should follow. 

This is in stark contrast to our European brothers and sisters, whose cities like ours encourage cycling but unlike the good old brits actually provide pay as you go bikes as well as safe bike lanes not populated by Dominos pizza scooters and white van men with their Capital Radio breakfast show blasting.

But back to the point, this week I am a cyclist..... and in 13 months I am going to ride from London to Paris, arriving in Paris the day the Tour de France ends there. I will understand the pain these super fit sportsmen have been through for two weeks as I will have been through the same. I will know the bond they feel with their team as I too will have a team and we shall glide through Kent to Dover, arrive in Calais and cruise through North France to Paris.  I know this will happen, I cycled 4/5 miles as a child ergo I am now older (fitter?) and I can do 77 miles in a day (by chance, the stage one London to Dover distance).


I go to the gym, I'm wearing a cycling top- confirming I am a cyclist - I nod to other cyclists on the way. The nod is the same nod you get when you are jogging and you smile at at runners, the nod you share with other husbands/boyfriends/fathers outside changing rooms while you and they wait for wives/girlfriends/daughters. It is a nod that says I know your pain, we have a common understanding and respect because we are doing the same thing - you are in the club. 


30 minutes brings cramp in one thigh and a litre of water. Like a pro cyclist I now have my top unzipped as I navigate the virtual climbs the exercise bike brings. I even feel that I could do with a support car which only confirms to me that I have more in common with the professionals than I first thought.

11.33kms later I stagger home and switch on the Tour de France. It appears that the day I announce myself to the cycling world, Lance Armstrong may have lost his immortality, falling twice and unable to keep pace with the mass of competitors as they climb up foothills of Morzine.  Maybe its a sign that the greats of cycling are fading and a new generation is needed to come to the fore.....I feel part of another club, I am a cyclist and I am young-ish. Having basked in glorious mediocracy of rugby, golf, football, cricket and every other sport I have tried, I am relived that I have found my calling.....


I am a cyclist.


One slight problem - I have no bike but as the sun goes down on another hot weekend in London and the pre-work fears start to grow, I can take comfort in my understanding of the upcoming Tour de Farce by sampling some French cheese....