The newest member to the f*cking eejits club

November, not a month synonymous with cycling. Only the committed (or should be committed) will put on their gear and head out in the cold and dark.

I read a very good article recently, about an elite athlete. He trained for the Rás this year, completed it and then took some time out. Once he resumed training, the loss of fitness and form was huge. The article was of special interest to the likes of me. If a proper athlete loses that much form, what hope is there for us, the mere mortals of the sport. I decided to keep training for the winter. Not mad stuff now, just a few training spins “every” week, regardless of the weather. Hopefully, once the new year beckoned, I’d have a solid base to work from. It’s less than 6 months to my first “Gran Fondo” in Belfast next June.

So, it’s November, I rush in home from work. The usual madness, as in most houses. The hoover is going, there’s a dinner being cooked, Kian is on a 10 kill streak on Starwars Battlefront and Lucy, the dog, seems a bit excited, running around the place. “I’m just going out the road for an hour”, I mention, testing the waters, “Kilbehenny and back”. I think at this stage the lads have given up and just seem to put it down as a mid-life crisis. It could be over at any moment, but it’s lasting longer than they expected.

So, on with the gear, no expense spared on this stuff. Connect up my Garmin (remember, if it’s not on Strava, it didn’t happen), hook up the lights, out the door and away.

It’s freezing, as I head down through the town, there’s a severe wind chill, but my fancy gear has me feeling snug as a bug. Out the Cork road and I’m clipping along at a steady pace. That chilly wind is behind me, so it’ll be a little more difficult on the way back. Still, it’s only 45km, out and back. In the summer, you’d be doing that, just to warm up. So, happy out, I cycle along with just my thoughts for company.

The old Cork road is ideal for this kind of training. It’s straight, very flat, has a good surface, has a wide hard shoulder and as locals, we know it like the back of our hands.

I reach Kilbehenny in just over 45 minutes. Just turn around now and head back. I’ll be done and dusted by 7.30pm.

I use the Garmin “Live Track”, for added safety. The lads at home can keep an eye on my progress and whereabouts. Any problems, they can be out in a few minutes to pick me up. Mr Sensibility, that’s me. So, a quick check on my phone and all is ok. However, there’s a message from my lighting system. (Yep, no expense spared on lights either). One of my lights is down to 26% battery life, it’s not going to get me home. I reach in my pocket to take out the spare “Aldi, get me home lights”. I’ve forgotten them. All that rushing out the door, the hoover, Starwars, the dog, the cold. It’s everybody’s fault, but my own.

I turn into the headwind and ride hard to make it home before the lights go out. Skeheenarinky, all is good. Kilcoran, I can see the lights of Cahir, 8km away (5 miles in old money), Tincurry and I look down. My heart stops, it’s my tail light that was low on juice and now, where there should be a flashing beacon, there’s nothing. Pitch black, on the darkest part of the road. A few cars are coming behind me, so I pull over onto the grass margin to let them pass. A few more pass and finally, I make it to the bypass in Cahir. It’s cycle lane down into the town and it’s well lit up, so I’ll be ok. A coach from Bus Éireann passes me and I wonder what the driver is thinking. If it was me, I’d be like a lunatic. I make it home in one piece and I’ll be honest here, I’m pretty ashamed and embarrassed with myself.

I thought of everything. My lovely warm gear, my winter training bike, my fancy Garmin and my even fancier lighting system. However, I forgot that simplest and most vital of things, a €20 spare light from Aldi.

If I saw somebody else doing something as stupid as what I did yesterday, I’d be shouting it from the rooftops, so a bollocking would be well due, as I would deserve it. I was lucky, I got away with it and it’s a lesson well learned.

Winter training is completely different in more ways than you would think. Next time, I’ll be taking a few more minutes to get ready and ensure that I have everything that I need to get back safely.

In the meantime, my newest cycling achievement is an unwanted membership to “The F*cking eejits Club”