Back in the saddle: Finding my legs, losing them in my first crash and the London Classic

It's been an eventful return to cycling after 5 months off that felt like an absolute eternity. Unfortunately, work, study and very short days meant that from the end of October last year until the beginning of March, I was pretty much unable to do any riding. It was a massive loss, and it's been a huge gain to climb back on the saddle in the last few months.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly all your hard work and training dissipates when you spend some time away from riding. Not so long ago I was riding up mountains in the Alps and completing my first 100 mile ride. 40 mile rides were a doddle, the 'light jog' of cycling. A few months later, they seem like marathons again. My legs lost all that hard muscle, had no definition, and wore the fatty coat of a long winter break which saw many calories consumed and very few burned.

That said, after my most active year on the bike yet, 2010 has left my base level of strength undoubtedly higher than it was and I felt back into the swing of things after only a few weeks. That was quite a gentle routine for a while, involving short evening rides and the odd weekend 40 miler. Unfortunately, one such ride ended unceremoniously when, whilst taking a drink I hit a large pothole at 35kph and wobbled, hit the deck and bounced into a ditch. It could have been worse, and a very bruised hip aside, the worst I had to show for it was a left side that looked like a second bout of the measles (said ditch contained brambles) and cuts on my face resembling a fight with a cat!

Apart from a little hurt pride, there was no major damage and I was only off the bike for a couple of days and was more than ready for the first event of the year: The London Classic. I only first heard of the event at the start of the year but immediately knew I wanted in. As one of the few rides that now take place on the same day as Paris-Roubaix, the LC pays homage to the Hell of the North by covering large sections of London's cobbled streets over a kind, early season 37.3 miles.

My dad, who has caught the cycling bug (albeit on a fixie), also joined in and we both found the day an absolute joy. Starting from The Alma pub in Crystal Palace, the route heads towards East London for the toughest of the 26 cobbled sectors, via Look Mum No Hands in Old Street for a mid-morning coffee and cake. The sections of Stepney Green, Wapping High Street and Pennington Street all in E1 were the toughest, longest sectors. OK, they're probably nothing like Roubaix, but it felt good to experience a bit of a bone rattling shake under my tyres on the same day the pros would later be putting themselves through hell in Arenberg.

Making my way across the cobbles of East London

The route then crosses the river over Tower Bridge, heading for the 'lung-busting hills' of South London, only one of which was thankfully lung-busting, but oh my was it lung-busting. Reaching ramps of 20%, I was only just about able to grind my way up it before having to slam on the brakes, as the summit was no wider than a pin head and it dropped down at gradients most likely even steeper than 1 in 5.

Once over the hills, it was more or less an easy stroll back to the Alma for the last 40km of Paris-Roubaix, in time to see Johan Van Summeren's mammoth effort to take a surprising but thoroughly well deserved victory, which doubtless any fan of cycling would not have been happy to see. Don't you just love it when the domestiques have their day in the sun?

All in all, the London Classic topped off what was for me, a joyous early season return to the saddle, after which was to be the time to step it up for my biggest test yet, 200km of hills in South Wales's Dragon Ride...