I'll probably post more later, but at the moment I haven't actually sat up in bed yet.
Not much more to say. It was, as you might suppose, at the limit of my ability. And thanks to lots of support, it was just inside rather than just outside.
One flat, no biggie there. Only delay were all the damn riders coming past who kept offering to help, so I had to stop fixing it and wave them away with a friendly word
The headwind wasn't a big problem after last weekend. Hills are, and I did walk a few, even ones I could ride.
I was flagging approaching the 200km mark, so I promised myself a break at the first info point. I must have been really out of it, because I rested my bike against the notices board and sat on the grass, about 10 metres from the lovely seat in the post above - but I never saw the seat at all. The break and snack did me a lot of good, so even though I left the control with practically no time in hand, that still left me with 100km to go in 7 hours. How hard could that be?
About then I started crossing paths with
Jeremy, riding a blue Ribble. He was a little faster than me, so he passed me twice after taking wrong turns. As we approached Winnersh, we started riding together, and after getting our cards signed he tried to get a new light going to read his route sheet. It wasn't working, and I couldn't leave him behind, nor could I wait for him. So I suggested we ride together - my slower riding was more accurate, so he'd likely to be faster.
We steamed together for the last leg (or steamed by my standards). He kept reporting the time left, and I kept reporting number of km left. We were pretty sure we were out of time, but we weren't giving up. His chain came off just at the bottom of the last hill into Gerrard's Cross. I stopped to see what was happening, then cursed myself for losing the precious momentum. While he sorted his bike out, I started walking to the top of the hill, to keep making progress while not getting away from him.
We pushed and pulled each other over the last few kms. He wouldn't have made it without my GPS, and I would have taken one too many breathers without him. Finally got to the arrivee with seconds or minutes to spare - I made it about 1.58, Manotoa reckoned a little earlier. I'm not quibbling.
Too pieces of gallantry that wrapped up the evening for me: Jeremy holding the door of the community centre for me (so I guess he was actually the last rider in). And Manotoa driving me home: it was only 26km ride, but when it became obvious I couldn't remember how to get on my bike, he felt pity for me. It was a most welcome rescue. Put it this way - when we got to Chiswick roundabout, which I know very well, I couldn't remember how to get to Brentford from there. I was tired.
Long way to go for PBP, but this is progress. I haven't got
eating or drinking right yet, I lost 3kg over the day, which must be dehydration. It was OK for 300km, but would have started to take it's toll on a 400.
That break picked me up a bit, and things went ok from there. I got to