Hello strangers. Guess what? The terrible twosome are back.
It has been a while since our last bout of sweat and nonsense but we have something up our sleeves – only one of us has sleeves, the other one pretty much lives in tiny shorts and a sports bra and her guns don’t fit in sleeves – that will see us return with style.
But first a prelude to that.
We couldn’t be further apart in our types of fitness at the moment. Flic is focused on strength and power. Sam is focused on endurance for her 1,100 miles in 15 days challenge (www.samanthamcclary.wordpress.com). But we both still love a bit of sweat and nonsense and have both missed finding new, different ways of testing our bodies.
So in just two weeks time we will be cycling from London to Paris in 24 hours. That in itself is something that has been done many a time before. But I’m not sure whether it has ever been done on TT bikes by two women who are expert at getting lost (okay only one of us is expert, but the other continues to let her lead the way at least until we’ve gotten lost at least three times. You’d think she’d learn!) .
So this weekend we decide to do a reccy down to Newhaven. You know, just to make sure Sam doesn’t get us lost and we end up missing the ferry.
Sam has been cycling a lot. Flic hasn’t been on a bike for four months. But, hey, it’s only going to be a 200km+ round trip. Nothing like throwing yourself back in the deep end. Odd to use a swimming pool analogy when both of us are such accomplished (ahem) swimmers.
Anyway. Flic hasn’t ridden a bike in ages (Sam’s a bit worried she might be a bit of a pussy on the bike – see below). Sam has ridden her TT about three times this year. For about 30km each time.
Sam is in charge of directions and is feeling smug as her Garmin that died on the last trip to Brighton – in a hurricane where @higgypiggy123 almost killed some of the brightest talents in property. Kinda – has come back to life and she has managed to download a route that pretty much looks like a straight line. How hard could this be? Erm.
Sam gets us lost within about 10 minutes. She’s not really understanding how to use the Garmin. It’s telling her to go south. “How am I meant to know which way is south?” she says. Sam barely knows left from right. Flic pulls her phone out of its special hiding place (the aforementioned sports bra) and we revert to using Google Maps for a bit to get us on track. We’ve done a massive loop. Much like the massive, pointless loop Sam made her friend Sarah do last week on a ride down to the New Forest. Hmmmm.
Route starts with a bit of a busy section of road but then goes through some amazing countryside and towns and villages. There seems to be a headwind and a lot of hills. Isn’t it meant to be downhill to the sea?
We get most of the way to Newhaven but decide to go to Brighton first for food and much needed coffee. Sam’s genius directional skills come into play again and she may accidentally take us on a route that puts us on a ridiculously scary dual carriageway. Something again that happened with her last week. Anyone spot a theme?
We get to Brighton in one piece. Head to the Mock Turtle for food and caffeine. Chill out. Coffee. Tweet. Eat. Coffee. Tweet. Coffee. Check map for route home. Tweet.
Back on bikes and roll along the coastal road to Newhaven. At Newhaven we head back inland towards Lewes and East Grinstead and see the best thing ever.
Now, Miss Cole is the queen of tiny clothing but she totally got her butt kicked today. Big time. Careering towards us was a less than athletic looking lady riding her bike in only a bikini. Brilliant. That chick had balls. Well, not balls, a giant pair of tits actually, but you know what we mean!
Rest of ride home is reasonably unadventurous for us. No wrong turns. No naked people on bikes. Plenty of great street names though. We’ve never seen so much (wood)cock!
We stop for coffee, inhale our chorizos, get looked at funny. Flic offers some of her homemade energy bar, which has been warmed to a sticky mush by being in her back pocket. Sam goes to dig in but says “I’ve been wiping my nose with my hand.” Flic’s response? “I think we’ve probably shared enough bodily fluids over the years that it doesn’t matter.” Well, I guess there was that time in Miami with the jellyfish sting to the face.
Scoff energy bar mush and ride on.
Maybe one more slight navigational issue that takes us up a giant hill that we probably didn’t need to go up. But the end is in sight. Almost 220km of riding, getting lost and having fun. A great precursor to what is going to be a List ticking of a lifetime.
Prepare yourself for the nonsense peeps, it’s going to be sweaty.