Did it! All 1,025 miles of it. That's from stormy John O Groats to sunny Land"s End in eight back-breaking, bone-shattering days. One guy was throwing up by the roadside and had to get into the bus with only 20 miles to go. Another wheelied in with Will You Marry Me Jo? on his T shirt. Judging by her delighted squeals the answer was yes.
Our man got there just before the police escort. About two stones lighter and barely able to speak. This was harder than the Marathon, harder than the Ironman and just about any other challenge he has set himself. He got the prize for the grittiest ride after struggling on to do 120 miles on an empty, sicky stomach.
Loads didn't make it but for those that did it was a moment of total jubilation, followed by "Who wants to see my saddle sores?" One to pass on. Savlon used by the shedload. Still knackered today though and it has yet to sink in for most of them, but when it does - take a bow boys and girls we are proud of you!
No comments:
Post a Comment