It is with great regularity that I have recently found myself quoting the head of family Stark (before he lost his) from George R. R. Martins rather long (yet unmissable) Game of Thrones. Whether I am complaining to Mrs Rouleur about my dire need to turn the radiators on (it is October after all), or standing in the shower shivering more than the kingdom of Arendelle when Elsa went ‘nucking futs’ in Disney’s Frozen, I continue to repeat the mantra ‘Winter is coming’, and so it felt this weekend.

Or Sunday to be precise. Rolling out of my flat at what for most people would be the ungodly hour of 7.30am, (not so for me thanks to my little mans persistence in classing 5am as a suitable wake up time) I was immediately hit with the realisation that it was rather chilly.

Thankful for my foresight in wearing extra layers and arm and leg warmers, it was with some amusement that I greeted my ride partner in his shorts and short fingered gloves who seemed to be turning blue before my eyes. A very quick conflab determined that our fitness levels were not up to much given the slightly bigger paunches we were both carrying (we blame the Great British Bake Off) and our rather lazy natures recently. So instead of hills, hills, hills myself and my fellow Less Roly setoff for a quick 20 mile jaunt around the fairly flat local roads.

This was a nice social ride, where the main outcome was a good catchup on life in general and the stag do I had recently been on in Barcelona in particular. There were some short, OK very short, or alright almost non-existent, hills that were attacked with out of the saddle enthusiasm and certainly warmed us up a little, and one or two races for the town signs that aided us further in our endeavour to stave off frost bite (I have a penchant for the dramatic). In the end the sun slowly came up and we were treated to a rather nice hour or so on fairly quite roads around Surrey (not the hilly bits).

Arriving back at our start point after a fairly circular route we had certainly warmed up a little (though I think my ride partner might soon be on Wiggle hunting for a pair of winter gloves) and after a brief chat we both agreed to hit the road again very soon (Thursday to be precise).

I must admit we didn’t push ourselves very much but there is plenty of time for that as we step up our training before our last sportive of the year at the worryingly named Wiggle Devil sportive which is looking more and more like a rather tortuous 74 miles at the end of the month.

Overall whilst nothing epic happened, not much climbing occurred and no real speed was pursued we still got out and rode and that is what is important particularly as winter draws ever closer. Of course I certainly need to step up my game and get out more if I am ever to lose some belly blubber but this is best foot (of should that be pedal?) forward.