’T IS THE REASON

I can’t risk catching any germs on the eve of the Rapha Festive 500

It’s a week before the start of the Rapha Festive 500 and my bike needs a new freewheel. I take it down to my local bike shop and find that owner Steve and mechanic Paul are both full of a cold. I keep my distance and hold my handkerchief over my mouth and nose. Like a scene from a cold war spy swap movie, I leave my bike halfway between them and me and back away to the door, shouting instructions over the heads of several Christmas shoppers.

“The freewheel’s buggered,” I say, “and I need a new one before Christmas Eve.” Paul gives my rear wheel a spin: “16-tooth? We can get that in for you tomorrow.” All I have to do now is negotiate my way back home without coming into contact with anyone coughing, sneezing or exhibiting the merest hint of the common cold. I am in voluntary quarantine, inhaling regular shots of Vicks First Defence nasal spray.

I can’t risk catching any germs on the eve of a challenge that will require me to ride 500km between Christmas Eve and New