Grant's bike ride blog: Problems with wind and other issues…

I’ve never had a problem with wind before. Let me rephrase that – wind has never caused me any problems until now. No, that’s not right either. Try again – wind has never been an issue for me until now. Ahhh!

To clarify, I’m talking about wind, rather than gas. I had no idea how a tiny little flutter in the air could cause one so much difficulty on a bike, never mind a full-blown breeze. Believe me when I tell you it makes a massive difference!

Gale force

Picture the scene – the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and there’s not a cloud to be seen. Glancing up at the treetops you perceive a slight movement in their leaves, nothing strong enough to move branches, oh no, just a slight breath of wind. However, get on a bike and this slight breath turns into a gale force 10 when you’re cycling into it! I can’t believe how strong it feels – you can’t even see the grass at the roadside stirring, yet you’re there with your head down peddling like mad and getting nowhere fast! It simply defies the laws of physics!

Of course, this doesn’t apply when the breeze is behind you. You can’t feel any help from that quarter, because after all there isn’t really any wind today is there? And it seems to know which way you plan to cycle too, so it’s only in your face on hills and on your return home, never on the way out. Indeed, if it is in your face as you leave, I’ll give you a pound to a penny that it will change mid ride so that it’s once again in your face on the way home too!

I just hope Zambia doesn’t have any wind, and if it does, that it blows south all the time (as that's the direction we’ll be travelling in.) Oh, and a dearth of hills would be good too…

Back in the saddle

From this you’ll have gathered that I’m back in training in earnest. It’s only in the last week though, as my back still wasn’t right when I got back from Cape Town. In desperation I visited the doctor on my return, and explained my predicament – six weeks to get fit enough to cycle 500km in under a week.

That was less than two weeks ago, and a combination of horse strength anti-inflammatory tablets and a course of pain killing injections (which should last five to six months) have ensured that I can at long last really get down to putting in some miles on the bike.

The weather helps too, of course: sunshine, no rain, and light evenings are all helpful when it comes to motivating you to get the bike out. I’ve even cycled to the office a couple of times, although cycling in a suit with one trouser leg tucked into your sock does get you some funny looks, particularly from your colleagues!

Snobby bunch

However, during my recent rides out, I’ve begun to realise that cyclists are an elitist and snobby bunch. I’ve been a runner for the past seven years or so, and runners are the complete opposite. Whoever you pass (or in my case whoever passes you!) there’s always an exchange of greeting: "Nar then" or "Ow yer doin’?" (I'm in Yorkshire don’t forget).

But with cyclists there’s no such blanket camaraderie. It seems that I am akin to something that’s just crawled out from under a stone, or has got stuck to the bottom of your shoe as far as many cyclists are concerned. And why is that you may ask? Well, in essence it’s because I’m not riding a proper "road" bike, but a mountain bike instead. I’m also not clad head to toe in figure hugging lycra (believe me not a pretty sight!) so clearly I can’t be a serious cyclist, and therefore I don’t exist.

Blank look

Picture the scene – a straight country lane, not a car in sight and two cyclists approaching one another. As he gets nearer I smile and nod a greeting. He simply stares, blanks me and cycles past without any acknowledgement. "Didn’t he see me?" I used to wonder. Perhaps his eyesight isn’t too good? Perhaps he’s very shy? No, he’s just bloody ignorant, that’s all! They all are.

Of course, I’ve now made it my mission in life to try to engage with some of these self-important little snobs. I go out of my way to ensure that they know I’m going to greet them – waving and smiling a good distance away and shouting a "good morning" or "how are you?" at the top of my voice. With some it works, they feel sufficiently cornered by my bravado that they are compelled to respond, usually with a mumbled "hello" and then they lower their heads and pedal even faster, fearful that I might try to engage them in an actual conversation.

The remainder, however, persist in ignoring me, at which point I’ve started to shout "Arsehole!" as loud as I can in their wake.

So far, no one’s stopped and turned round to confront me, although it’s fair to say that I have been a bit selective about whom I actually shout at – if they look particularly big I’ve not shouted quite so loud (maybe a very loud whisper in truth).

So, in less than five weeks we’ll be doing it for real, in truth just four more weeks of training. And I’ve still only done one ride of over 30 miles! So much to do and so little time…

Will I make it round, or will they have to carry me? At this stage I think the jury is still out.

Grant Ellis is chairman of The Broker Network Group.

To read Grant's blog so far, visit http://s356426138.websitehome.co.uk/ .