Something weird has been going on with my algorithms; despite being a runner, I find myself incessantly nudged by ads and pop-ups about cycling. First I am insulted – I am age-aware but have no need to be niche-marketed by a company called ‘Granny Gear’ – then I find myself strangely intrigued to discover that cycling apparel is very, very different to running garb.

Full disclosure, this cycling spam is the result of agreeing to act as a domestique for my chap as he embarks on a self-imposed challenge to raise £1k for Cancer while cycling 1000 km with the Tour de France as a distracting back drop. (He is not cycling in France, but has set himself his fundraiser to coincide with the 21 day event in Europe. If the weather is rubbish, he can watch Le Tour from the indoors ‘convenience’ of his turbo. ‘Miles is miles,’ he says).

If you want detail, visit: https://www.justgiving.com/page/colin-dennis-1716038650927 to get a proper explanation

To be fair, my chap offered the same service to me when I ran my recent ultra marathon and he made it look so easy that I foolishly agree to drive the support vehicle and meet him at every cafe on the ‘pier- to- pier section of his challenge in Somerset. When I was running, my chap was always waiting for me at every food station en route, but when I attempt to be a domestique I manage to arrive late to every cafe. Thankfully, he appears too tired to notice my slap dash approach.

When he is refuelling at said cafes, I have an opportunity to ask an endless torrent of cycling-related questions. Between mouthfuls of flapjack he points out that the Granny Gear brand is a nod to the lowest gear on a bike, and not a reference to my age and fashion sense. ‘i.e. so easy to pedal that even a granny can do it’, he explains. ‘Interesting,’ I respond, ‘ so you maximise torque at the expense of speed?’

I am now being bombed by a peloton of adverts about cycling socks and wonder why they are so much more expensive than my running versions and why they are such an odd length. We are at the third cafe of the morning, and being a little high on caffeine I scoff at the ‘odd’ length of a cycling sock; ‘don’t tell me, it’s so you can ditch cycle clips and tuck your trousers in to prevent them getting caught on your chain?’. I receive a withering look from behind a mountainous sausage roll and the following explanation, ‘when we cyclists choose a long sock we are not just choosing a look, we are choosing a tool specifically designed to enhance performance and comfort’.

As the day wears on, we (ok, one of us) have completed three piers and four cafes. I try to squeeze in some mini runs between pit stops, but this just messes with my Strava and jiggles my insides because I have been trying to keep up with the caffeine and cycling fodder. I arrive fashionably late at our last rendezvous and manage to find us a table which allows me to sunbathe and my partner to refuel in the shade with a pot of tea and a massive slab of chocolate cake. He declines one of my running gels, because, it turns out that cycling gels are different/better than the ones I offer. He accepts a bag of crisps because it is now very hot and he needs the salt. I decide not to ask any questions about cycling shorts – my brain is unlikely to compute the science behind all that strategically placed padding and lycra.

After seeing a couple of new adverts pop up on my social media feed I am tempted to ask what cyclists do to prevent chafing. Note, I am not distracted by scrolling while with my partner, I am just filling in time while he takes the opportunity for a nature break (apparently this is what cyclists call it) at the last cafe. Runners just use ‘chub rub’ but I note that cyclists use ‘chamois’ or ‘chafe balm’, or the more downmarket ‘bum butter’. However, I can see the attention of my chap has drifted and this may not be the time to discuss saddle sores, for he clearly wants to crack on with his final leg of this challenge and get back in time for the ‘Tour de France’ TV highlights. There has been talk in the cafe about an idiot spectator throwing a bag of crisps at the race favourite – Pogacar – on the climb de Pla d’Atat during Stage 14, (get me with my inside knowledge) and both of us are united in our incredulity that someone would waste a bag of potato crisps in this thuggish fashion. ‘You would never get this type of low life behaviour in the London Marathon,’ I mutter as I ferret around for my car keys and offer a belated reminder to the one cyclist in our group to don some suncream.

Being a domestique is so much harder than it looks; I can match the coffee and cake consumption, but the time-keeping and hill-climbs not so much. When I eventually look up from my new obsession with specialist cycling kit, I will applaud the dogged, lycra-clad determination that will ensure that Teenage Cancer Trust will gain the sponsorship that my chap promised them when he heard that his young cycling friend faced his own personal challenge. ‘My’ chap is too modest to say that – even with a week of cycling still ahead – he has already smashed the £1k total he set himself, but if you can support his last push it will help his tour de force to his self-imposed finish line.

You can donate on https://www.justgiving.com/page/colin-dennis-1716038650927 while I go off to research the best maillot jaune – or yellow jersey – to you cycling novices.