I can hardly believe it’s almost a year since the last Jennings Rivers Ride, but am really looking forward to taking part in the event for the second time.

Partly that’s because it’s undoubtedly one of the most beautiful rides in the country but also because I have unfinished business with the route!

Last year the Rivers Ride certainly lived up to its name. The roads ended up turning into rivers as the Lake District threw down some of the worst weather it is capable of. By the time I approached the hardest part of the ride, Newlands and Honister passes, along with two friends, officials had shortened the route for safety reasons. The weather had conspired to stop us completing the whole route.

So this time I want to make sure I finish the 75 mile “Big Day Out” route.

The rain wasn’t the only enemy we faced that day. Sharp pieces of freshly cut hedge littered the road and by the time we had crossed Whinlatter Pass the three of us had already had four punctures.

But despite our troubles the Jennings Rivers Ride was one of the best days cycling I have ever had. The route we undertook was spectacular, the camaraderie with other cyclists great and the food stops well organised and very welcome. And of course it’s all for a great cause – Cumbria Community Foundation.

There’s one final incentive this year. The Tour of Britain will be following in our tracks the next day when some of the world’s top racers cross Honister Pass during the Cumbrian stage of the race. Knowing that we will be going just ahead of them can only add to the atmosphere.

I can’t wait. There’s just the issue of a lot more practicing to do before then.

The bike is down! The bike is down!

Last Saturday after ten months suspended from my garage ceiling (see last blog) I took my bike off the hook and placed it gently back on its two wheels. Shamefully I had put it there on the night of last year’s Rivers Ride and left it there like a forlorn, dangly monument to a fitter, more agile past. Last year’s Rivers Ride was tackled in monsoon conditions and amazingly, the bike started dripping water from its front forks. Now this was either residual water from Whinlatter last September  or genuine cycle tears because it knew that I was just about to sit on it for 40 miles.

I had signed up to do the Rivers Ride Relay which was four teams doing each of the rides and passing on a bottle of Cumberland Ale as the baton. As you may know I am the pioneer of Extreme Cycling. Now, this new sporting concept (which may become an Olympic Sport in future years) isn’t an endurance event of many hundreds of miles in difficult conditions but is based on overweight ‘cyclists’ doing no cycling for the vast majority of the year then jumping on his/her bike to do a ride of 40/60 or 80 miles up and down hills in a oner.

I was doing the ride with fellow blogger Ian Curwen and Tom Foster a Director at Sellafield.  Just so the Cycling Gods (who for the ill-informed are called Chopper, Grifter and Budgie) could snigger a little louder it was scheduled on one of the hottest days of the year and we were doing the just after lunch slot. Oh joy! The physicists amongst you will be aware of the formula that dictates that 40 miles +slopes + 26 degrees + clinical obesity = comedy cycling + breathing that you can be arrested for. I’d also forgotten to have something substantial to eat (unless Bradley Wiggins pre Tour meal of choice is a bowl of Clusters in which case I was well prepared.) We had also managed to persuade/dupe a colleague called Karl Connor to drive us and our bikes  through. This had the double benefit of allowing us the opportunity to partake in several pints afterwards in Keswick which was the carrot that I needed.

The ride itself was actually (and surprisingly) uneventful which for a blogger is really disappointing. Normally on my occasional forays into the world of cycling I fall off, get bitten by dogs, bricked by feral teenagers or slip in dog poo. On Saturday I cruised effortlessly at 1.3 miles per hour in my bright yellow t-shirt (see photo) looking like Bungle off Rainbow and managed the route pretty well. We then went to the pub and had some chips. Grand! I did, of course,  get my usual pitiful/sniggery/is that fat fella really on a bike looks from the fitter cycling demographic but I did check out their calf muscles and mine were bigger and more defined.   In my last blog I told you that I would be reporting on my ‘marginal gains’ Over the last few weeks my legs have been bitten to pieces by midges.

The resultant scratching has meant that both lower legs have been stripped of quite a lot of hair. I do believe the resultant weight loss and associated efficiency has raised my average speed from 1.2 mph to 1.3 mph.  Result!

So – has the day out ignited my love of cycling? No. Will I commit to a training regime of x number of  miles per week leading up until September? No. Will I regret it in September? Yes – just like last year and the year before.   What is it about me and never learning from experience? Until next time..

An enjoyable stretch out with the Rivers Ride crew and a new road bike have made this one of my better weeks, training wise.

In fact, given that I did some training, it’s actually been my best week.

The ride was rewarding for a number of reasons, ranging from fantastic weather, the good company (thanks to Tom Foster and Gary McKeating), the beers in the sun upon completion, to familiarising myself with part of the main ride route. Oh and best off all, I managed to climb Whinlatter for the first time ever.

There are a few reasons why I managed to achieve this, of which jelly babies and the thought of a pint at the end are clearly two of the most important.

My new bike might also have contributed. I’ve now moved from a heavy, hybrid bike with wide tyres to a light road bike with slick, think tyres, and I am amazed by the difference it has made. Climbing hills has gone from being a chore to a challenge.

I’m delighted to say that no only has the bike provided me with the perfect excuse to get out more, but it has also motivated me to try and provide a little structure to my training.

My biking regime has always been one of getting out whenever I can. Well sort of. It’s actually one of getting out when a friend contacts me to suggest a bike ride. I must admit that I have struggled to motivate myself at times to go out on my own.

However, since I got my new bike (thanks go to Keswick Bikes, who are supporting the Rivers Ride), I’ve found I’m willing to go out on my own, willing to find new routes, and more shockingly, am willing to embrace hills.

The last one is definitely the biggest shock. As a larger man, I’ve always avoided hills like the plague, for fear of failure and well, the pain. This included going down them because, in my mind, descending a hill meant I would have to regain the altitude at some point later in the ride!

My new bike seems to have been designed for getting up even the toughest of hills. In fact, on my most recent ride, I actively sought out the hills to see if I could beat them.

So far, I’m pleased to say I’ve succeeded.

Of course, none of this is really down to the bike but rather my improved fitness, thanks to my thorough, structured, and dedicated training regime.

Surely?

Last time I promised to update you on my experience of changing a tyre and cycling through a ford. It might not be immediately clear why these two experiences are connected, but in this case, it is my failure that links the two.

I’ve already said just how much I have loved cycling since I got back into it. Not only do I get out as often as I can, I also spend far too many hours fixating over lycra and bits of metal that do something or other to help improve the performance of something or other.

However, despite this, I am still a novice, and two recent experiences only serve to emphasise this.

The first came, a couple of weeks ago, when I decided to change the inner tube on the bike I have borrowed from a friend.

I won’t bore you with all the details of just how epic this failure was, but suffice to say, my hands were black, the air was blue, and an hour after starting the ten minute job, I was almost finished.

I would say I felt a sense of satisfaction at this point, but to be honest, I had no idea whether any one of the processes I’d just undertaken was completely wrong and liable for catastrophic failure.

My second failure was all the more amusing – for everyone other than me. I decided to take a shortcut on my route to meet a friend. It was only when I set off that I realised this shortcut included crossing a river via a ford.

I didn’t know much about how to do this – again, my technical knowledge is somewhat lacking – but I had a plan. That plan was to get off the bike and walk over the footbridge.

However, when I reached the ford and saw a ‘gang of lads’ congregating, my bravado overtook, and I decided I’d simply continue through the ford.

I decided the best option was to go slowly but to try and keep on moving. This seemed to work until about halfway through the river, when I looked down and saw the moss-covered route I was taking.

I was probably about two seconds later when I crashed into the river, from a speed of 5MPH, to the sound of laughter from the lads. Thankfully they weren’t recording for You’ve Been Framed. It wouldn’t have been a pretty sight – I look different in lycra to the people in my magazines!

It was only when I got home that I realised my current cycling magazine has a feature of riding through fords (Though, to be honest, I am not sure it would have made the slightest bit of difference if I’d read it first).

These two experiences have made me realise that I should probably get to grips with the technical side of cycling. If only because I don’t want to take an hour’s enforced break, at any point on the Rivers Ride.

Thankfully, there are no fords on the route.

News just in – there is no news. I haven’t touched my bike, looked at my bike thought about my bike or been within 20 feet of my bike. Sorry I tell a lie – the fuse blew on the bathroom lights and I banged my head on the front wheel as I stumbled in my towel past the bicycle that hangs like a mocking bat from my garage ceiling (see previous blog).

I know at some point I’ll get into trouble for not blogging about actual cycling in a cycling blog but I’m going to have to risk it – I’ve got away with it for three years now. I’m very comfortable with being in trouble as I’m married to a teacher.

At this point I usually enter my pleas of mitigation as to why I’ve done nothing – busy at work, fell off the bike, memory loss, community service obligations etc. This week I’m going to be truthful – I couldn’t be bothered. I’ve been at the Whitehaven Festival all weekend volunteering and I got back with feet that were throbbing like a cobblers thumb and a sunburned nose. Now I bet Sir Bradley Wiggins doesn’t miss training due to a tender pink nose but I’m nothing if not a trail-blazer in the world of excuses.

In this series of blogs I’m going to post a photograph of me in different locations in West Cumbria as I up my training intensity every week until the Rivers Ride. If I haven’t trained due to sunburn, mouth ulcers or midge bites, I’ll post a tenuous cycling photo. This week – me and Louis Walsh who once owned a Raleigh Grifter. Until next time, yours in (thinking about) cycling.

Want to know my most recent moment of sporting embarrassment, of which there have been many over the years? Read on…

In the meantime, back to the latest blogging…
Despite the rise and rise of cycling on these shores, opportunities to watch top level professionals “in the flesh” are relatively few. The Tour of Britain – coming to Cumbria the day after the Rivers Ride – is, of course, one. The National Championships, which were held over the weekend in Glasgow,
are another.

The road race took place over a tight city centre circuit and three quarters of the Moss family were persuaded to make the trip. Not that this member of the family took any persuasion.
Notoriously unsporty Mrs M travelled as did daughter Rebecca. Both enjoyed themselves. Or so they told me.

Scattered through the field were a series of riders just days away from the Tour de France – three of whom, Mark Cavendish, Ian Stannard and David Millar – were the three podium finishers. I was among the crowd six deep at the finish and caught the briefest of glimpses of a high speed Cavendish, alarms aloft, celebrating his moment of doing what Cav does better than anyone else.

When anyone asks what was the greatest sporting moment I’ve seen, the answer is that it was Jimmy Glass’ moment of glory. The goalkeeper scoring in the last minute of the last game of the season to see Carlisle United avoid being relegated from the Football League. These moments are rightly rare – the powerful additive drug that pulls us back to sport. That briefest flash of flying Manxman wasn’t too far short of “the Jimmy Glass moment” on my personal “Mossometer”.

Yes, I was a bit excitable. I had been throughout the afternoon. In fact, discerning that I knew more about cycling than at least some of those watching, I committed the sin of cockiness, by offering opinions and analysis to anyone who would listen. I even recognised the riders well enough to shout out their names. Not that I did, until the moment Team Sky’s Ben Swift , riding solo, swept past. I wanted to encourage the lad. I did. Loudly. “C’mon Ben, keep it up”.

Great. Apart from the fact that it was actually Luke Rowe, Ben’s Sky team-mate. He must have heard me. By this time he was way down the road and I had no opportunity to make good. My face matched the pink of the Giro d’Italia cap I was wearing. (Pretentious moi?). Scanning the watching spectators, it didn’t appear as though any of them could tell their Lowes from their Swifts either. But I kept quiet after that. For a while.

As to my own cycling accomplishments – using the term in the loosest conceivable sense – this weekend will be the third century ride of the year. May brought the Drumlanrig Challenge and the Fred Whitton. On Saturday we have the Virgin Money Cyclone in Newcastle. While the Fred is reckoned to be just about the toughest, this is one of the biggest. Naturally unsociable (my wife tells me), I don’t really like lining up with thousands of others, but once you’re out in rural Northumberland, the constantly rising and falling route soon breaks things up.

After last weekend’s return to cool temperatures and strong winds, surely we’re due a decent day….surely..

In my last blog I talked about getting back in the saddle following my accident, and I hoped that it would soon follow. I’m pleased to say that since that point I’ve been back on the bike and have done a number of rides.

I won’t lie, before I set off on the first of these rides, I was a little nervous – What if I fell off? What if I no longer liked it? What if I simply couldn’t remember how to ride a bike?

Thankfully after just a couple of minutes I was well and truly back in the saddle and back in love with cycling and none of those concerns were valid. Even more thankfully, my back suffered no pain at all, and the ride was a reasonably paced meander to help keep my fitness up.

I realised two things when back out on the bike – firstly, that I really do enjoy a cycle ride – both the uphill and downhill sections (though I did those at a much slower pace than was previously the case – lesson definitely learned), and secondly that there isn’t a better way of seeing some of this area’s fantastic sights.

My first ride took in Dent before a coastal jaunt to St Bees; but since then I have cycled through the Wasdale Valley, Ennerdale Valley, Croasdale, the Solway Coast and visited many of the areas small towns and villages – including a memorable stop for a truly giant and utterly undeserved ice cream in the sun at Allonby.

I’m pleased to report that my rides are getting both longer and faster, both of which will be crucial when it comes to finishing the Rivers Ride. At the moment, I feel confident that if I continue to progress sensibly, I will have no trouble completing it.

I should point out that when I say ‘no trouble’, I mean no new trouble relating to my back. The struggle to get up the Lakeland passes will be just as real as it was last year and on every other ride where I’ve experienced them.

In future blogs I might tell you about my laughable bicycle maintenance attempts and my experience of cycling through a ford. That’s if I want to embarrass myself further, anyway.

Year three of the Rivers Ride…and I’ll be back for my third spin around the West Cumbrian circuit. But I’ll level with you, I had to think long and hard about it. Why? Well, the 2012 ride was the most wet and miserable day imaginable.
It poured all day. Chucked it down. And then some. It was only after the event that I learned riders were being turned back from Newlands and Honister passes, due to the appalling conditions. I’d somehow made it over a little before that decision was made. Made it over after a fashion. It was awful. I didn’t see another cyclist and now I know why! It’s a cliche about roads being turned into rivers, but that’s what Newlands Pass resembled.

So, given organiser Andy Beeforth has personally guaranteed a dry, sunny and pleasantly warm September Sunday for 2013, I’m willing to give it a go. Andy’s a chap you can trust. He told me so.

Also, the lure of riding a chunk of a Tour of Britain stage just a day pefore the pro-peloton proved a key selling point. I suspect they won’t find Honister as horrible as I do, but I know they won’t exactly enjoy it.

The Rivers Ride 2012 has since been trumped on my league table of wet misery by this year’s Fred Whitton Challenge, reckoned by most to be the toughest one-day sportive. It includes all of the main Lake District passes.

Driving, freezing rain in the latter stages forced some riders to abandon. There were cases of hypothermia. Shivering lycra figures huddled in silver survival blankets at the end created a scene reminsicent of a casualty clearing station. I knew I wasn’t in a good state over the closing miles. I’ve never been as close to quitting a ride. Arguably a triumph of obstinacy over good sense, although my wife would say simply riding the Fred Whitton amounts to that. And a puncture coming down Wrynose didn’t help. My tyre/wheel combination is ridiculously tight fitting at the best of times. How I managed to change it with shivering, shaking hands, and shivering, shaking everything else…well, I don’t know. So, that’s 2013’s grim horrible ride out of the way. Everything else will be fun, fun, fun! Excepting, possibly, Honister.

I am a fool. There, I admitted  it. Every year I sign up for the Rivers Ride and every year I say I’ll get fit and every year I don’t and then every year I do a blog and then every year it’s about my tale of doing very little training and then every year I struggle round the long ride and then every year I come last and it takes a month for my body to recover.   And so we begin the 2013 Gary McKeating version of Groundhog Day on two wheels.   My bike has been hanging from its cycle hook in the garage (available from Halfords in the ‘once a year daft fat cyclist’ section) since last September. This frees me up a bit of floor space to only trip over the exercise bike I bought 2 years ago and the dumb-bells I bought 3 years ago and the twirly thing you kneel on to do your abs (I think) that I bought 4 years ago. I’ll do the ceremonial lift it down from the ceiling  shortly into its pre Rivers Ride position nearer the garage door which enables my wife to initiate her pre Rivers Ride ‘had you not better get some practice in’ mantra as I eat a KitKat.   The GB cycling coach, Dave Brailsford at the Olympics last year talked about ‘marginal gains’ – the little improvements that gave his team the edge.  We should learn from the best so I’ll be talking a lot over my blogs about marginal gains. This week I’ve cut down from four finger KitKats to two finger KitKats. Next week I plan to stop eating twice as many two finger KitKats than four finger KitKats. I’m getting good at this already!   Until next time…

It’s Rivers Ride time again and time to share my pre-event training.  Three years ago I would have described myself as a cyclist; now it would be more accurate to say I’m someone who owns a bike.  I’ve twice completed the long day out but am attracted by the Foundation Flyer in 2013.  This year I reached the age of 45 and seem to have spent more time enjoying the great food and beer available in Cumbria than the fabulous cycling opportunities.

I feel put to shame by my colleagues who have been throwing themselves into impressive feats of physical endeavour including; Keswick to Barrow walks, Hell on the Harbour side, new careers in running and endurance horse riding.  So congratulations to Alex, Annalee, Ellen, Glenys, Judith, Nicola and Tara.

On Sunday my training began in earnest in the fabulous sunshine with a ride that took in Isel Bridge, Setmurthy woods, the shore of Bassenthwaite and the longer than I remembered hill from Castle Inn to Ireby.  I guess it was about 25 miles and in the morning sun was an absolute joy.  My target for getting in some sort of shape is 13th July when I’m in the second leg of a fantastic beer bottle baton relay when we will join the four magnificent routes over a 24 hour period.  Wish me luck!