I have for the most part been an unremarkable athlete. Lineage often dictates what our outlook on exercise can be, and more so, how capable we are. My Mum and Dad were never athletes in any way, shape or form. Neither was Dad particularly academic - he was a comic genius though, and continues to be at 70. They did, however, work long hours to support four sons of various ages for whom the arts and creativity were more akin to our outlooks than any form of training.

My brothers and I all wrote comics from a very early age. We were obsessed with Marvel Comics and Stan Lee and to this day at least two of my brothers still collect and box comics. Some people collect cigars, some collect comics.

For me, at the age of about 13, when I started my first part time job, my obsession (which some may call a collection, though bikes come, bikes go) with bicycles began with a Raleigh Equipe, bought from Kays Catalogue for £3.50 a week. I never really dug comics like my brothers but the visual aspect of the bicycle always appealed to me.

In hindsight, my fascination with two wheels is a simple thing to break down. We had one bike between four brothers and the race home from school decided who got the bike for the evening in those long hot summers of the 1970’s, when dog shit turned white, when flying ants invaded our streets, cap-guns were badass and when Jimmy Savile was just a D.J.

Fast forward 30 years and over the last couple of days I have been thinking a lot about being an overweight bike rider and struggling with the internal lament as another season of riding approaches. It has been troubling at best and sometimes very depressing.

There is nothing worse than seeing a group ride away from you on a hill. I can ride a bike for sure. Testament to this are my decent shifts on the Action Medical Research ride to London where I usually hit 117 miles on the 6 hour mark. The issue I face as a bike rider and a person is self esteem related and of course sport related.

Cycling has and always will be a visual sport with how you look massively interlinked with the genre. Of course, the pro peloton will always look sharp and ride sharp.

However illness has also been well documented within our sport and of course the battles even pro riders face with depression, mental health issues and weight issues. I suppose when you are paid to ride a bike you have to do what you can to hit target weight. Do you take the red pill or the blue pill? If not, then the bills do not get paid. Clearly I pay my bills with other means, though I can assure you that if a little red pill gave me the ability to climb Cheddar Gorge at break neck speed then, like Neo in the Matrix, I say jack me up. Picture the scene; hardwired to a console, in and of of consciousness, eyes flutter open “I know bike riding” said in a Keanu Reeves tone.

I think the thing I/we all need to remember is that people ride for different reasons - this is the essence of Le Sportif. I ride for pleasure now as I am well aware of my capabilities on a bike - as I settle into my mid forties I find myself far more content and caring less. I ride to stave off demons from the past and I ride to assure a smart, happy, fit future. There is nothing like the undulating rhythm of the road to allow one’s body and mind to be cleansed, even if only for thirty miles or so. Just a smile inducing moment when your legs and lungs are at one with each other and everything seems easier.

The hardest thing I have faced off the bike was major surgery on my chest in 2007 when I had two serious operations, six months apart, which left me completely flattened both physically and mentally. Due to a turn of events, this process cost me my job and threatened my mental health. I rode my bike like a demon and managed to battle back and feel more alive now even without a bike beneath me.

I think we all need to look at, respect and admire anyone who has the ability to get on a bike and ride it irrespective of the chosen tribe - road, off road, commute, street, BMX - the list continually expands. Lets not ostracize people on looks and ability. If you see someone struggling, drop back, offer words of advice, a comforting arm, if you see someone with a flat at the side of the road stop, see how they are, ask if they need a helping hand.

With the recent growth of our sport we see many new riders out on the road of which some do not know how to change a tube, repair a puncture, tackle a climb. We have chosen the toughest sport on the planet and sometimes it can drag you in and spit you out. We have all been there. We never know the back-story to anyone’s life or how happen-stance sat them upon a bike. The more we embrace people and strangers, accept that others can be better at things than us, or perhaps even worse than us, the sooner we will come to terms with who we are, what we are and why we are.

To summarise, I may be a bit heavier than you, but that does not make a bad person. I ride my bike as without it I would probably be dead. Dramatic ? I would imagine so, but that’s how I feel. I have a new bike coming. It gets delivered next week. I cannot wait - as in the words of Eddie “Hills hurt, sofa’s kill”.

See you out on the road - wave if you see me.

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