I've un-officially set myself a cycle task to cycle to the furthest station on the Severn Beach line.

Seeing as the likes of Temple Meads and Sea Mills were a bit mundane; I first set my eyes on Shirehampton which I did prior to the man in the van incident, yesterday I did Avonmouth and today after pushing myself way beyond what I should have I did St Andrews Road (no pic due to conditions, but I have proof of a iMapMyRide route). I have casually attached photos.

Simple enough premise, yes, distance, not that bad. Now we move on.

Today I set myself another challenge, find and take the picture-esque trademark English Countryside™ route to Pill and perhaps beyond. This was a splendid idea, yesterday.

Today however, was not a splendid idea in fact I'd probably go as far as saying it was a bit of a shit idea. Just mix one part raining down like the end of time with an unpaved path and you get dirty. Even more dirty than yo skank ho mam.

I decided it was best to turn around at one stage as I could have sworn I saw a casualty episode starting off like what I was seeing then; even more hilariously as I was turning around I nearly cycled off the edge of the path to a comforting fall on to doom and perhaps long term hospitalisation. I clearly live one big ironic statement.

I cycled my way back so I could get on to the Portway, because I of course being the most judgemental of all humanity saw this harmless all fun based self challenge to be of course a complete race for my life and self worth.

So I switched over to Plan B which was Severn Beach or die! Seeing as I nearly died once already, this may not have been a difficult challenge to set (the being dead part).

That was a very very terribly bad idea. Not only because I was covered in mud, shoes like a swimming pool and clothes soaked through, but because I wasn't going to give up for love nor money (I lie, you got 10€ mistah me do errrrey-fing you like). I breezed past Sea Mills, Shirehampton and through Avonmouth fairly quickly, evil MapMyRide bitch giving me time and unacceptable distances as we went along enjoying the tunes and being able to live the dream as a fish in water.

By the time I hit Avonmouth it was kind of clear that I should have turned back way before then. My right arm hurting like it needed to be chopped off, clothes so soaked you could see through them. But of course I didn't stop as I couldn't fail on three counts, first one being the failed Pill experience, second being the soon to be failed Severn Beach run and third, I was so going to do 10km better today than I did yesterday.

I continued on to nearly-almost-Severn Beach but when I got to the roundabout to continue on I had to stop and make an epic decision. Could I even remotely push myself up that hill and beyond or just turn around?

Good thing I saw sense and found myself a nice little place to turnaround on an estate and make my way back. Absolutely hurting from all over and wet as a fart I pushed myself home. Barely.

When I wobbled in I never seen so much mud in my life, my kitchen is looking like it should grow grass and my bike, she drrrrteey.

The only positive of this story, I only vaguely failed as I managed to cycle 40km bitches. I'm just sayin'.

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