Fuel, spares and pre-ride preparation

Minimal fitness does not give you the right to skimp on logistics. The night before the ride, I mixed a double serving of Veloforte Cocoa overnight oats, buried it in flaxseed, chia, blueberries and strawberries, and slid the lot into the fridge. Breakfast solved.

Next came the on-bike menu: three bananas for the early miles, four Veloforte bars – Mocha, Forza, Classico, Di Bosco – and Veloforte chews for the hours beyond Spaling when the flat roads never end. I promised myself something - anything - every sixty minutes.

Spares were non-negotiable. Three tubes, because hawthorn is a malicious plant. Two mini pumps (yes really, a spare pump). Dynaplug tool, quick link, tyre levers, multi-tool. All of it packed into a saddle roll that barely closed. I’ve never needed three tubes in one day, but I’ve never regretted carrying them either.

Finally, the delicate topic of contact points. VeloSkin Chamois Cream over every place the sun doesn’t shine and I tucked two single-use sachets into my already overfull back pockets. They stayed sealed, but still gave peace of mind.

Into the Fens on fading form

Grantham passed in a blur of roundabouts and mostly polite drivers. My knees felt wooden; my heart-rate crept higher for the same speed, my hip complained for the first time in my life. Classico bar down, bottle refilled with electrolytes (Veloforte Passo), then the long straight where you see a church spire for half an hour before you reach it. I counted pedal strokes in batches of two hundred and promised myself Di Bosco only after a thousand. The bribe worked.

Wisbech, Coke, and the miraculous chews

The petrol station stop in Wisbech tasted like salvation. Bidon refilled. Again. Then the lane network that sneaks you towards Norwich. Somewhere in that labyrinth my body cashed its final fitness cheque. Speed dropped. I tore open the Veloforte chews and waited. Sugar, citrus and sheer placebo lit the fuse. Ten minutes later the pedals felt good again.

Broads golden hour

Norwich slipped by in suburban hush, then the world opened into reeds, mirror water and a sky turning peach. The temperature started to drop again, but fifteen degrees for much of the day had probably helped more than I’d realised. Warm enough to stave off shivers, cool enough to keep hot-foot at bay.I allowed myself music (another JOGLE habit) and rolled through Wroxham as fast as I could, there was still some speed left in the legs. Horning appeared almost by surprise, river glinting, pub lights winking. Two-hundred miles on next-to-no preparation. Utter folly, mild genius, probably both.. 

Chips, recovery gel and the verdict

Cod the size of a paperback, chips enough for two, pint of water down in one go, then the obligatory hot shower and a liberal application of VeloSkin Recovery Gel. I expected legs of concrete the next morning; instead I woke hungry and, astonishingly, free of saddle pain. The fitness deficit had been masked by pacing, calories and pure bloody-mindedness.

So what’s the verdict on a cold-turkey two-hundred? It hurts, but it’s not impossible if you have a few years in the saddle. Start arrogantly fast and you will detonate. Start cautiously, eat to the clock, gear down sooner than pride likes, and you might just bluff the distance. Perfect weather helps; wider tyres and liberal chamois cream help more. Three tubes feel ridiculous until the moment they don’t.

Would I recommend it? Only if you already know what two-hundred miles (or whatever your target distance is) feels like on good form. The reference point matters. Without it you can’t tell the difference between acceptable fatigue and the beginning of a very long walk. But if you’ve banked your JOGLEs, your Freds and your previous doubles, then one reckless, under-trained fling can be oddly liberating. You learn which rules are iron laws and which are polite suggestions. You discover that experience, properly marshalled, is a form of fitness in its own right.

Just don’t forget the chamois cream or your nutrition. Both can end your ride prematurely whether you’re on form or not.