I was about to set off on a bicycle race to Land's End. From where I'm not sure, presumably John O' Groats.
My chain had come off and I got my hands covered in oil trying to put it back.
Only a few minutes to go, then we are off.
I wonder about what will happen at the end of the day. Where will I sleep? What will I eat? What about a change of underwear?
I realise more preparation would not have gone amiss.
Have I got time to pack a rucksack with a few things?
The others all seem unconcerned, dressed in sleek lycra or something.
Bang! We are off!
Too late to do anything.
I pedal away and hope for the best.
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