East Anglian odyssey

---

Today I should reach the halfway milestone - 43 hills out of 86 - and 2,000 miles. But I'm trapped in King's Lynn for now as bike needs emergency surgery. To complete the 86 in 86 days I should finish on Ben Nevis on Monday August 7.

East Anglia is pretty ... but as dull as the ditch water which runs through the Fens. Still got another day to get out of this flat desolate part of the world. and escape into the Peak District.

So on Saturday I thought I'd try and crack out a 100-mile day. The roads are pancake flat and I had to cover the distance eventually, so why not do it in one day? Initially I felt like Armstrong on acid - breezing through the lanes, Ullrich hanging on to my coat tails. Little did I realise that the ride would practically destroy me. I've only ever ridden more than 100 miles on three other occasions, so it's not a walk in the park so to speak. In hindsight it wasn't my best ever idea.

By 70 miles I was reeling. It was muggy and I couldn't breath properly. Hadn't eaten or drunk enough. My stomach was hollow. Feet on fire. Head spinning. I was slumped over the handlebars by the time I arrived in Sheringham, on the north coast of Norfolk, and couldn't straighten my right leg for a while. Took a dip in the sea which helped. Then sat on the Prom eating fish & chips with lots of well-nourished (fat) holidaymakers.

People still assuming I'm from Argentina and I've been congratulated on 'my' country's 24-passes goal against Serbia last week. I've managed to see all the football despite being stuck in a field some nights. I'm backing Sven to pick Looney and Owen for the Swedes.

---

Comments

[SS]

You're a flaming lunatic Muir. Bet you were wishing you were back here writing stories about John Morris having to get a job in a pretrol station (yes it's true). Next time, EAT MORE HOBNOBS!