Wiggo!!

coffeejo

Ælfrēd
Location
West Somerset
Early on in the winter of 2013 I was about a third of the way up a long steep hill when I had a similar experience. It had been an extended Christmas season of far too many mince pies and not nearly enough exercise and I already knew that my legs were going to collapse under the pressure but then I encountered two teenager girls walking down the same hill. To my surprise, having spotted me, they started cheering me on. "Allez, allez!", "come on, you can do it" ... the shock kept me going despite the pain and blurred vision. I smiled/grimaced as I passed them and, one pedal stroke at a time, hauled myself closer and closer to the top until I no longer cared and began weaving from side to side. To hell with them and their encouragement, I was stopping and that was all there was to it. And then, just to prove that they had better lungs than me (or at least ones that hadn't endured this beast of a climb) came a war cry from the bottom of the hill. "Noooooo, don't stop now! You're nearly there!". I don't know how they sensed my desperation, nor do I know why I listened to them but I kept going. Eventually, shaking and gasping, I crept over the summit and kept going for a few feet more until, out of sight of my self-appointed drill sergeants, I collapsed sideways into the hedge and vowed to start up a petition to get Le Tour and all other cycling events banned from British television...
 
OP
James Blackwell

James Blackwell

Senior Member
Location
Clevedon
Early on in the winter of 2013 I was about a third of the way up a long steep hill when I had a similar experience. It had been an extended Christmas season of far too many mince pies and not nearly enough exercise and I already knew that my legs were going to collapse under the pressure but then I encountered two teenager girls walking down the same hill. To my surprise, having spotted me, they started cheering me on. "Allez, allez!", "come on, you can do it" ... the shock kept me going despite the pain and blurred vision. I smiled/grimaced as I passed them and, one pedal stroke at a time, hauled myself closer and closer to the top until I no longer cared and began weaving from side to side. To hell with them and their encouragement, I was stopping and that was all there was to it. And then, just to prove that they had better lungs than me (or at least ones that hadn't endured this beast of a climb) came a war cry from the bottom of the hill. "Noooooo, don't stop now! You're nearly there!". I don't know how they sensed my desperation, nor do I know why I listened to them but I kept going. Eventually, shaking and gasping, I crept over the summit and kept going for a few feet more until, out of sight of my self-appointed drill sergeants, I collapsed sideways into the hedge and vowed to start up a petition to get Le Tour and all other cycling events banned from British television...
Genius!! Some people dont understand the epicness (its a word now) of the daily struggles being a cyclist.

MartinQ,
I do have side burns but not anything like the scale of Wiggo's were. But I like to think I cut a more dashing figure. If only I had his credentials on a bike.
 

rich p

ridiculous old lush
Location
Brighton
Early on in the winter of 2013 I was about a third of the way up a long steep hill when I had a similar experience. It had been an extended Christmas season of far too many mince pies and not nearly enough exercise and I already knew that my legs were going to collapse under the pressure but then I encountered two teenager girls walking down the same hill. To my surprise, having spotted me, they started cheering me on. "Allez, allez!", "come on, you can do it" ... the shock kept me going despite the pain and blurred vision. I smiled/grimaced as I passed them and, one pedal stroke at a time, hauled myself closer and closer to the top until I no longer cared and began weaving from side to side. To hell with them and their encouragement, I was stopping and that was all there was to it. And then, just to prove that they had better lungs than me (or at least ones that hadn't endured this beast of a climb) came a war cry from the bottom of the hill. "Noooooo, don't stop now! You're nearly there!". I don't know how they sensed my desperation, nor do I know why I listened to them but I kept going. Eventually, shaking and gasping, I crept over the summit and kept going for a few feet more until, out of sight of my self-appointed drill sergeants, I collapsed sideways into the hedge and vowed to start up a petition to get Le Tour and all other cycling events banned from British television...
Brilliant post Jo!
I suspect the vanity in most of us makes us try to impress others a little, however much our rational self denies it. If I'm passing, or even approaching, other cyclists I'm pretty sure I try to breathe quieter as if it's effortless and the make a futile attempt to flatten my, errrmm, 6 pack:whistle:
 

fossyant

Ride It Like You Stole It!
Location
South Manchester
I noticed the change post Beijing 2008. Me and another rider got shouted 'go olympics'. We were both hammering out of town on slicked up MTB's - I've had my fixed now for nearly 6 years !!!
 

Shut Up Legs

Down Under Member
I was cycling to work yesterday, not in any shape or form being anything like Wiggo. When out of no where a car I was overtaking a kid shouts "Go Wiggooooooo!!!!"

I love this, not that I am compared even in the slightest to the great man, but that a kid in a car on the school run, even knows who Wiggo is.

Long may this continue!!

James
Down Under it's "Cadel!" we normally hear :laugh:.
 
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