They might even canonize me!
I accepted The Pope’s suggested ride without even looking at it. Conformity doesn’t necessarily help you to open heaven’s doors so it wasn’t that what earned me my place in heaven.
First few kilometres were neutralised. I used them to gauge the situation. The Pope had ridden yesterday to Oxford but he didn’t ride back nor did he drink more than a single pint. Not great news for me. I was feeling fine but definitively not fully recovered from Saturday’s ride to Arundel. Again, not great news for me. The Pope disappeared uphill on the first hill and that was the confirmation that I was in serious problems.
Being the strategist I am, I came out with a brilliant plan. Try to follow The Pope in the hills and to try to punish him in the flats and downhills.
Evil? Don’t worry. My actions later in the ride more than compensated this little sin.
The plan was working ok(ish) (Let’s be honest, the part of following The Pope in the hills was not that easy, and I wasn’t really delivering on the part of punishing him in the flats and downhills, but the illusion of following a plan was still there). Around Km 50, not even half way through the ride, The Pope suggested a change in the route.
I accepted immediately (as mentioned above, conformity with The Pope doesn’t necessarily help you to open heaven’s doors). “Around 10 extra kilometers he said”. “More hills, I suppose.” I said. “Not really.” he answered.
I didn’t believe him (It turns out it was, in Pope’s own words, “20 hilly kms”). Not believing The Pope’s words is definitively a sin, probably bigger than being evil with your ride strategy. I was certainly accumulating some christian debt but you’ll see my actions clearly paid it.
In the second half of the ride, after the coffee stop, when we were back on route, I noticed it was easier to follow my plan. It wasn’t me that I had improved (although I have had a coffee and I was feeling its effect), it was The Pope that was slowing down.
It was around Km 100 when he confessed to me he needed a gel and he didn’t have any.
I quickly came to the conclusion that telling him I didn’t have any was not an option. It is not that I didn’t want to lie to The Pope. I would have without hesitation if that were an option, it is not that often that you have The Pope against the ropes with three hills to come. It is just that no one that has ridden with me would believe I was out of gels with 50km and three hills to go.
I had six left! Two of them with 100mg of caffeine. I only needed two to get home. I knew The Pope would also need two to get home. I reluctantly gave him one. Without caffeine of course.
I’m sure Eclesiastés 11-1’s “Be generous, and someday you will be rewarded” is powerful, but feeding 40grams of carbs to The Pope 10km before climbing White Hill takes you straight to the doors of heaven.
But it doesn’t get you in.
What gives you your place in heaven, and probably gets you canonized, is to give The Pope a second gel.
10km before the final sprint!!!!
Did I give it to him with a forced smile on my face? Yes, I have to admit it. My first instincts are not always the most honorable ones.
Did the gel help him? The Pope overtook me in the last little ramp saying “the gel works”. He even sprinted for the line.
Not taking a sprint you can win is a mortal sprinter’s sin and I didn’t want to waste all the catholic capital I had accumulated…
Saint Speedy Gonzalez sounds great and I reckon that name is not taken.
The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/18646644331/
Take care of yourself
Javier Arias González
