“It’s just you on that track with 6,000 people who have come to see you succeed or fail.” The Hour Record, dating back to 1893. 60 minutes of individual, lonely effort around a velodrome, lap after lap, counting down each minute until the end, in the vainglorious attempt that you’ve travelled further than anyone else at the end of it all. Just you and a bike. A massive risk. No second place. Simply failure or a place in the record books while the world watches you. The hour record has to be the ultimate do or die sporting event. “My Hour” is Bradley Wiggins’ story of his successful bid to be the fastest cyclist over the course of one hour.
Read MoreDesign Museum's Homage to Cycling
I think it's fair to say that all of us who cycle get the same pleasures from the experience (and some of the pains too!) That feeling of freedom, the wind in our hair, being masters of our own destiny - to mention just a few of the positives. Bicycles can be beautiful, sleek and streamlined, or practical utility vehicles, but there is something about their geometry that makes us go weak at the knees and fosters an illogical passion for metal and rubber.
Read MoreSmoother than Chamois Cream - the Rouleur Classic
Thursday night saw Vinopolis open its doors for the Rouleur Classic event and the suited and booted cognoscenti of the affluent London cycling community, most of whom appeared to have come straight from their desks across the river in the Square Mile, or wherever it is that hedge fund managers, bankers and corporate lawyers park their tailored but trim derrieres on weekdays. Eager to get their cycling fix before donning the Rapha and deserting their loved ones for their Sunday morning rides with their top-of-the-range carbon machines, this well-to-do crowd queued round the block before the 6pm start.
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