Several thoughts ran through my mind as I fled the pub car park. First and foremost I was delighted that, as far as I could tell, my head was still attached to my body. Secondly, I was equally thrilled by my current power numbers. Such had been my haste to leave the venue, I’d glimpsed down at my head unit at what looked like an absolute power PB. Perhaps that’s the secret to optimum cycling performance: riding for your life.
I’d just engaged in a brief exchange of thoughts and ideas with a gang of bikers, you see, and as I was about to broach the more salient points of the discussion, it had been concluded prematurely with a punch to the head. I was still wearing my helmet, fortunately equipped with anti-rotational impact system MIPS, which went some way to soaking up the heavy right hook. Nevertheless, I thought it probably best to leave immediately. The gentleman who had administered the blow looked like he was just about to launch a follow-up volley of jabs. He also looked a bit like a leather-clad version of the Incredible Hulk. I took my leave. Quickly.
