Guardian Unlimited: Coast to coast and a new-found respect for cyclists – 26 September, 2006

It’s nice to know that approaching your 46th birthday there are parts of your body you have yet to become acquainted with. I spent the weekend with Daley Thompson and 40 other would-be heroes crossing the breadth of England on a bike. Admittedly the Sustrans Coast to Coast route from Whitehaven to Sunderland traverses the country at one of the narrower points but none the less it constitutes a gruelling 140 miles of cycling on varied surfaces and the use of muscles long ago retired or downgraded.

Cycling is no more than a pastime for me and many of those taking part but the chance to take the C2C Challenge in aid of COCO, my charity, seemed more interesting than the usual running events.So it was with a borrowed Scott mountain bike that I joined Daley and the others at the marina in Whitehaven at 7.30 on Saturday morning. The custom is for all C2C hopefuls to allow the lower reaches of the Solway Firth to baptise your back wheel before setting off and once suitably anointed we began.

Daley is a keen cyclist and has taken part in many long-distance rides. Mass-participation cycle events are growing in popularity and with the increasing opportunities to go off-road and the expansion of the National Cycle Network it seems an obvious alternative to decathletes and others who may find the idea of a marathon a step too far.

Daley had brought along a few pals to join in the experience. One friend, having flown in from Spain the night before, still had his bike in a box 15 minutes from start time. These cycling enthusiasts are nothing if not handy with a spanner and in no time he was assembled.

In his haste to put his bicycle together he had forgotten to inflate his tyres and by the time he was pumped up the peloton had vanished.

The C2C is well signposted but as he attempted to make up lost ground Fraser cycled 15 miles in the wrong direction before reaching the Sellafield nuclear plant and realising that this was not the Lake District scenery he’d been promised.

Most of us had a less stressful morning and the only concerns were the severity of the inclines. Whinlatter Pass is a 600ft climb whose beauty was lost on most of us with heads down and legs spinning. Mile after mile of dropping and climbing through forests and Lakeland villages was occasionally broken by glimpses of normal people enjoying a more restrained weekend in Keswick and Penrith.

The saddle soreness graduates to a numbness that eventually reaches the brain and as hours go by the effect of energy bars washed down with gallons of isotonic drinks starts to create a reaction in the abdominal regions.

The thought occurs as to how do the pro-cyclists relieve such tension? Our roadside pit stops are not something I remember seeing on Channel 4’s coverage of Le Tour. The cruellest of climaxes comes at the end of day one with the four-mile climb to the 1,900ft summit of Hartside Pass. We parted company on this section. Each to his own personal hell. Reunited at the top an hour later Daley was happy to pass off his bouts of walking as tactical genius. His bike computer registered 2.9mph at his best speed. Once dismounted, he hit a respectable 3.2mph.

An overnight stay in Alston was just about enough to rejuvenate the batteries and apply suitable lotions. Day two was less demanding with all the hills coming when energy levels were high. The final 35 miles are downhill and despite some punctures, a dog bite and an embarrassing moving dismount our group reached the beach at Sunderland later on Sunday and the North Sea washed away all of the pain and dirt leaving a warm feeling of satisfaction.

I have a new-found respect for the cycling fraternity and for padded shorts and soft, gel-filled seats.