Welcome to the tales, trails, and tribulations of my attempt, as a total cycling novice, to complete the entire route of the 2010 Tour de France...thats 3600 km / 2236 miles in 20 days with just 2 rest days, taking in the Alps and the Pyrenees – rumoured to be quite hilly!



Lance and Jake .... seperated at birth

What follows is both an attempt at keeping myself sane during the 3 week ordeal, a journal to remind myself never to do this sort of thing again, and a means to try and raise some cash for the William Wates Memorial Fund. Any contributions would be hugely appreciated and will be a real boost for me throughout the Tour.
For more information please go to ...

Saturday, 12 June 2010

The story so far....

Having never been much of a cyclist, I bought my first commuting bike last summer in a fit of desperation against using the London transport system and paying Ken’s congestion charge. There are only so many times a man can get stuck, vomited on, arrested (for terrorism - not charged), and pick pocketed before he realises that there must be an easier way of getting about town.

In the few remaining days of summer, I realised just quite how incredibly liberating having a bike can be...I was instantly hooked. My biggest issue of getting from A to B in London had never been the cost nor the time, not even the quadruple changes via C,D and E. But the total reliance of an antiquated system that was seemingly always late, cancelled or smelling of pee. With my bike I was always moving, never late and breathing only mildly toxic air.

However the jump from cycling commuter to aspiring pro-tour rider was, even to me, mildly incredulous. An initial first meeting with the Tour de Force team in late November sparked a serious interest to try my hand at a few stages. This then snowballed after my first training ride of 40 miles (the most I had ever ridden in my life) to 6 stages....a month later, I was signed up to do the whole thing.

Yes I enjoyed the freedom, and the exercise, and the gradual understanding of a sport, that only months previously, I knew nothing about. But most of all, it was that there was something within the human psyche of pushing yourself just that little bit further, a little bit harder, and a little bit faster, that cycling so brilliantly satisfied. Pain seemed to go hand-in-hand with pleasure. The more pain I endured the more pleased I was with myself at the end of the day.

But still .... the complete Tour de France circuit! What on earth was I thinking? I still had cycled no more than 80 miles in one session and I was already having issues with my right knee. Surely time and situation were on my side? I was fairly fit, self-employed and had the adage of ‘no wife, no children, no problem’. But as my training increased, this total naivety quickly turned into a fearful realisation of what I had taken on.

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