Keeping it in the family…..

I have a brother. He doesn’t like cycling. I try to get him into it but he just doesn’t want to know, which is a shame really because he’s got the perfect build to be a truly great climber.
Although we’re both similar in many ways (cracking good looks, charming, funny etc), we’re quite different in others. I have always struggled with my weight – ever since we were kids really. I tend to follow the broad shoulder, stocky side of the family whereas my brother can pretty much eat what he wants and stay slim.
To be honest, I always thought he was the milkman’s because I’m the spitting image of my father and he looks neither like Mum or Dad. This all changed when I saw pictures of my Dad when he was in his early 20’s. They looked identical.

Anyway, I digress. It’s quite odd really because neither one of us wants to follow the route our genetics have planned. I am working really hard to lose weight and get fit, whereas Skeletor is downing protein shakes and going to the gym to bulk up. We’re at the stage now where his “guns” are actually bigger than mine and I don’t like it. We’ve decided to have a party when we both weigh the same. It’ll be fun, you should come – there will be cake and lettuce.

Last Summer, he was staying with me for a few days so I managed to persuade him to come out on the bikes, promising a flat route with one hill as a bit of a challenge. He agreed and even seemed keen to use clipless pedals. It was a beautiful day and the ride started pleasantly enough, we talked as we rode along and he seemed to be getting on ok, managing to unclip at junctions without distress.
We hit the base of the climb and started to progress nicely, with me at the front. Half way up, I could sense he was getting impatient. He pulled alongside and asked if the brow was the top of the hill. I said yes.
In my defence, strictly speaking, it wasn’t the top but it went from a 14% gradient to a 3% gradient so although it eased, it wasn’t precisely “the crest”. I would say the challenging part of the climb ended at that point.

It was too late though and he shot off like a bat out of hell. I thought to myself, “he’s well up for this, get in there son” and upped the pace to hold his wheel.
What I didn’t realise was, that he was deep into the red zone and despite the calm exterior, he was screaming inside.
We reached what he thought was the top and then he jumped off, collapsed on the grass verge and the abuse started. Apparently, a 3% slope is not flat.

The ride home was fairly quiet and wasn’t helped by him failing to unclip his shoes when we reached the garage to put the bikes away. I don’t think I’ll ask him to come cycling with me again, especially in front of the kids……..