Some years ago I arranged with a friend to have a pop at the South Downs Way in a day. We had to catch the train from Wimbledon at 5.40am, and he had to get to here by car from Kings Langley. I'm about a 10 minute cycle from Wimbledon station so the plan was for him to be here by 05.00 to get a cuppa, assemble his bike, etc etc.
At about 5.25 I could hear the roar of an engine and the squealing of tyres at the bottom of the road.
And yes, he'd got a few miles away from home and had successfully ticked off in his head all the things he needed; shoes, freshly made sarnies, drinks mix, drinks bottles, bike ....... Oh fuck.