Scissor Hand John and the Little Bear come out of hibernation

After a winter period spent comfort eating and working on their couch potato figures, Scissor Hand John (he's a hairdresser) and the Little Bear decided to emerge from their holes and participate in a CCCP 30 miler. Sunday morning was a beaut of a day, sun shining and a bright blue sky. Which prompted me to forego the "Max Wall" leggings and don shorts for the first time this year. Light gloves instead of the arctic mitts I'd been wearing for the last few months and a typical short sleeved top with arm warmers topped it off and I was ready for the off.

Scissor Hand John turns up with a spanking new kit, red and black to match his bike, bedecked with spanish decals. "What's that mean then?" I ask "How the f*** do I know, I don't speak spanish" replied  the ever elequent SHJ. "I bought it when I went to Gran Canaria on my mid winter training weekend.". Bloody hell, he's taking it serious this year. He went on to say he's entering his first triathlon next week. The CCCP is not use to this level of dedication, we may need to reconsider his membership if this sort of behaviour continues.

The Little Bear turns up 20 minutes late as usual wrapped up like Kenny from South Park. "You'r gonna freeze to death you idiot" he said "I checked the weather forecast, its 2 degrees this morning tops"

The Little Bear's aero winter gear

We were 10 minutes into the ride before a was regretting my optimistic clothing choice. Feeling in feet had disappeared, hands were the same - wind chill factor had done me again!

All in all though we had a great little ride out, with me feeling the benefits of not having a fag for 2 weeks, and feeling the disadvantage of carrying an extra half a stone in weight - I've been on this bloody "Cave Man" diet for two weeks now and I don't think its gonna last much longer.

The Little Bear did well and John managed to get up hills that he'd previously walked up, so all in all we had a good run, finishing up with a turbo chocolate and mushroom omlette. in the Mess. Incidentally the Mess in Brewood is a small bistro which has now become a mecca for cyclists on a Sunday morning. When we left there was at least 13 lycra clad road warriors drinking coffee and eating cake - highly recommend the place.

Got back home in time for the start of the Paris Roubaix. I am writing this while watching it and drinking a bottle of merlot shouting "come on Phinney you bloody waste of space, where the hell are you." I might ad that I have £10 riding on him at 12-1. I also have £5 on Stannard and £5 on Edvald Boasoan . Anyone who knows my betting prowess knows that this is the kiss of death for these riders. I've just checked the odds and they've all gone to 124-1 with 17 km to go - bloody typical. Cancellara started as a short favourite and wasn't worth a bet, but its fairly obvious that Fabian is going to win it. Thats why I've decided to try and minimise my losses by putting an "in race" bet on Cancellara. Watch this space, Fabian will puncture or fall within the next 5 minutes.

Bernard Hinault one of the sports all time greats described the Paris Roubaix as a race for dick heads, I feel the biggest dick heads are the ones that try and bet on such an unpredictable race such as this.

Come on Fabian, to quote a My Fair Lady line, "Move your bloody arse"