Ships log: Mileageddon - Flapjacks, Crosswinds and the Wetherspoons Revival

There’s not much to say about this ride except that I finally cracked the 150-mile mark - and did it with the bike fully laden, just to keep things spicy.

The route was flat, the crosswind was irritatingly uncooperative, and the temperature was five degrees below the forecast because that's how we roll. Thankfully, I had my gilet, arm warmers, and my new Shokz headphones, which continue to be a revelation - especially when the only thing breaking the silence is the sound of your own slowly deteriorating morale.

Around mile 60, I stopped for coffee and a bun, which just about kept the wheels turning. 

Watsons Hill, the main climb, was as anticlimactic as an encore involving one of your least favourite songs, but it’s ticked off the list. 

The flapjacks (best batch yet) and a steady stream of peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches kept me going until mile 94, where I was beginning to come unstuck. Then came Wetherspoons hove into view at 103 miles: swift service, soul-repairing calories, no notes.

Final 45 miles or so were uneventful, unless you count feeling like an ice cube for the last 15.

Was it scenic? Occasionally. Was it joyful? Rarely. Was it 150 miles? Absolutely.