Over the Edge

Living in the sticks can be a pain at times. It means either a long bike or a train home all the time and it's not easy to do a shopping. It's a lifestyle choice though, especially not driving. Many people ask me how I cope without a car. 'Like every person has done in history until recently' I say.

My evening included doing everything under my own steam. After work, I cycled home the long way, accompanied by Marshall T until Mossley. Goodness, the man can talk! I even smashed it on a few hills to leave him breathless but his verbal diarrhoea continued unabated. I wouldn't change the guy though. He's got some great stories, especially from his days as national coach, mostly unrepeatable.

After leaving MT, I was still feeling strong so decided to ride flat out over Stalybridge Hill....an almost 10min climb. I say almost intentionally as I went quite a bit under that for my fastest ascent yet this year. After a banana piece and a cuppa, I got my running kit on and headed out over Coombes Edge. I have my big race, The Slateman, in only 3 weeks and its got a tough hilly run in it so I wanted to do a challenge with bike miles in my legs.

It's almost 5km of climbing to the top of Coombes and for once there wasn't a gale force wind sweeping over the Edge. Rather, it was a sunny and warm spring evening. Absolutely beautiful and perfect. The going was still slow but I was happy. The sheep were less so as it is lambing season and they didn't appreciate me being in their vicinity.

I decided it would be more fun to carry on to Glossop and then get the train home. This helped as I wanted to practice my descending skills under pressure. It would be touch and go catching the train, with an hour's wait until the next one. Running home would be too far. Shit....wrong path. I saw telegraph poles ahead so incorrectly assumed I would find a path near them. I then saw the road far below and headed towards it. Bloody hell....I had to ford a muddy stream to get to it and I had just washed my trainers and had white socks on.

12 mins to catch the train but still a long way to go. It was all downhill but still quite steep through Simmondley. I was now running flat out and had 4 mins to make the train by the time I reached the main road. No way Jose. Wait, Dinting was closer. I might just make it. The path up to the station is really steep and long but I pushed as hard as I could, despite the legs being ready to crumple.

I reached the platform just as the train had arrived. I was red faced, dripping with sweat and with muddy wet feet. But I had made it. The teenagers sitting close by looked at me strangely, but I was happy. I'm sure the euphoria was the same as Greg Wallace experiences after eating a perfect chocolate fondant.