A term often used to describe the less than pleasant alter ego of a bride planning her big day.
This week, my friend Lorna and I attended a 'Manchester to London' evening at the Rapha Cycle Club in London. We are both cycling the 220 mile event in September. The night included talks from Rapha Founder Simon Mottram and Ambitious about Autism (the charity we are all raising money for).
As we sipped on our beer, swooning over the new women’s Rapha gilet hanging up, we laughed at the concept of Ridezilla. The ‘bike bitch’ that we both admitted to sometimes being on the roads. We acknowledged those moments on a ride where our alter ego shouts louder than the landscapes. Cycling is beautiful and 80% of the time we can manage the uncontrollable that happens. But sometimes our inner Ridezilla decides to cover that beauty, with a deep red mist.
When the route changes:
If I’ve prepared for 80km, don’t change it to 100km during the ride. I'll have planned out my food and drink for the agreed distance and more than likely planned the rest of my day around the original ETA. Sort yourself before you wreck yourself, ride leader.
When I’m hanging off the back:
As well as struggling to get back onto the group, I’ll be having a one way argument with myself (that I'll never win) about how shit my legs are.
When I’m hangry:
Before officially ‘bonking’, the hangry (angry because I'm hungry) monster will appear being its usual demanding self. If I have no food left or we're still quite far from the coffee stop, my rumbling stomach and wandering mind can lose all ability to be patient and reasonable.
When I need the toilet:
I love my coffee. My bladder doesn’t.
When I’m too hot:
I sometimes choose my outfits because I like how they look and then get annoyed at myself a few miles in when my body temperature is way higher than all those cycling websites tell you is optimum.
And when I say 'sometimes', I mean 'all the time'.
When I’m too cold:
When I can’t feel my hands or toes, there wont be a person in the group who doesn’t know about it. When I'm not trying to re-find the feeling enough to change gears, I'll be questioning my life decisions and why I ever became a cyclist.
Just like when planning a wedding, during a ride you become obsessed with the details: the venue, the food, the guests, your outfit, the weather. As we begin our Manchester to London planning and training, we both accept that we'll be greeted with the company of an unwanted ‘drunken uncle’ of a guest – our cycling alter ego.
Through the good and bad, I’m saying ‘I do’ to this challenge. Lorna will have to accept me and my Ridezilla.
For better, for worse.
For hangry, for wheel sucking.
From mile 1 forward. We’re in this together.