Atomic Prologue: Downland Spring Sportive, 10 April

Have you ever come across Mamils? Middle Aged Men In Lycra. These curious beasts have become more common lately, and are never happier than when they’re together in large herds, sucking in their bellies and secretly eyeing each other’s cycling equipment. And not smiling. Whatever you do, don’t smile. It’s not aerodynamic.

Fortunately, opportunities for them to congregate are increasingly common, and Olivier and I joined them – as the Mamils we are – for the Downland Spring Sportive on Saturday. This was our chance to test out our levels of fitness, and we used it as a prologue to the Atomic Ride. Would we make it round the 70 mile circuit of Kent’s hilly terrain, or would we limp home, battered and beaten by those three monstrous sisters: the Lympne, Hythe and Peene Hills?

It was a beautiful morning, and we arrived slightly late, the majority of Mamils having made an early start to avoid the embarrassment of being overtaken. Olivier was overdressed, and faffed around with layers of clothing, whilst I ate all the complimentary tea and biscuits. Leaving Downland we headed north up the Whitstable Road, clicked along the way by the sportive photographers, who massaged our egos into thinking we were les champions de monde.

Through the Shepherd Neame country between Wye and Faversham, the sun glinted on the cowls of the oast houses, and we were overtaken by a muscle bound peleton. Luckily gravity worked against them on the hills, and all that muscle pulled them backward, leaving us to shimmy by and get the imaginary polka dot jerseys. Out of Wye and down on to Romney Marsh, we got sucked into the slipstream of a peleton that was steaming along at 30ish. It was dreamlike and effortless.

We stopped for food at Ruckinge, before tackling the mighty 1 in 1 Lympne Hill. This was only the prelude to Hythe and Peene, and by the end we were barely going at walking pace. However, the road levelled after we’d crested this, save for some aftershocks, and we cruised back to Canterbury via Stelling Minnis.

Exhausted, we punched our time cards and made for the pub. Purely to replenish liquids, you understand. In the end we came 21st out of 102: a very respectable result, and a good foundation for the nuclear spring to come.