I know a song that'll get on your nerves...

I used to be a reasonably competent racing cyclist.  I won (lucky for some) 13 races over a 10 year or so “career”.

I enjoyed bunched road racing primarily but also endured a diet of time trials – solo races against the clock searching out the fastest time over distances from 10 miles to 12 hours (yes 12 hours).

Now, I was reasonably competitive at time trials up to 50 miles.  Anything over that and boredom usually set in and I just couldn’t concentrate for long enough to either pace myself properly or drain everything my body had.  Shorter distances were no problem; just set off as fast as you can and keep getting faster until you either crossed the line or unceremoniously “blew up”

The longer distance races of 100 miles (I used to do two of these races every season) and 12 hours (just the one thanks) were necessary for entry into what was known as the “Best All Rounder” competition.  A misleading title as it was calculated on your average speed over 50-mile, 100-mile and 12-hour races only; your best time / distance in each event counting towards your average speed.

As I said, I was fairly rapid over 50 miles (typically around 1 hour 55 minutes or so) so I felt duty bound to ride the longer distances.

But over these longer distances?  Well that was a different story, and this is where music comes in.  No matter what I tried to counter it, a song would always enter my head just as the timekeeper was counting down to my start.  And it would always be a song I despised.  And there it would sit, in my head, for anything from four and a quarter to twelve hours.  Driving me nuts.  I just couldn’t shift it until I finished the race in a state of delirium from the manic tune that had been going around and around and around in my head.

Anyway, I managed to finish the Best All Rounder thing twice, placing 9^th best in Wales in 1996 and 1999.  

I always say that the 12-hour event I rode in 1999 finished me as a competitive racing cyclist.  It was horrible.  Run off on the hottest September day ever recorded in Wales, my lack of concentration driven by the unwelcome tune meant I didn’t eat or drink properly, probably doing untold physiological damage in the process.

The song?  I’m ashamed to say it was “We Like To Party” by the Vengaboys.

The Venga Bus is coming.  Indeed.

If you can listen to this for just three minutes without feeling the need to smash something, then congratulations; and imagine what it was like for me putting up with it for twelve bloody hours.

!!!!!TWELVE BLOODY HOURS!!!!!