Reports of my demise have been greatly under reported.
However I still live. Just about. A week of very fine food and very little riding has played havoc with my waistline and so I’m pedalling like a lunatic to try and shrink it back to my previous *ahem* athletic physique.
There are dark and malicious rumours abound. Sightings of a 4 foot something hairy-bowling-ball-esque creature running should not be believed. Nor should the entirely scurrilous accusations of Yorkshires finest MTB wordsmith owning a road bike be relied upon either.
We live in warped times.
Fat Lad
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