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Meet Christian: Fate is real; it’s inevitable; it comes in many different guises, and this particular guise came in the form of an accident, or as my wife will forever call it, a self-inflicted fracture (SIF). However you want to dress it up, it changed me!

In my former life, and always in heart, and only in my eyes, I was a rock star. Whatever that means?!? I was in a band; I was in a couple of bands, but like everything, that dream met its own fate and died. I felt lost; I lost a few things—I still don’t know how and why—and I felt a shift. Sure, my life is happy; I have a good job and a wonderful family, but something was missing. 

Music is my radar, and after an exhilarating gig by the wonderful Bug Club (check them out ), a string of unfortunate events led me to merrily take a late night\early morning, moon-lit jog along the rainy Grangetown Taff embankment—a true pluviophile. A quick misstep and I find myself face down in the Cardiff mud, a newly purchased record spinning off into the night. If that wasn’t enough, I also broke my ankle in the process, putting a stop to my running career before it even started!

My sometimes excessive lifestyle calls for balance; jogging was the answer. I hated it, but it felt productive. “Get a bike, get a bike, get a bike” was the inner monologue (my wife) was saying!

Seriously though, what am I going to achieve with a bike…

Warming to the idea of never, ever jogging again, I contacted an old friend and the only cycling enthusiast I knew, Alun “Cliff” Radcliffe. I’ve known Cliff since we were 12, lost touch in later life due to geography, and reunited by technology.

More from him later.

Thinking I would never use it, I opted for a Boardman Hybrid MTX aka The Beast. It was bloody heavy, which turned out to be bloody useful!

Armed with a Thousand aqua blue horse riding helmet, I was more about style than substance. I took to lunchtime rides across the beautiful barrage of Penarth, or the Cardiff Bay barrage, depending on your catchment. Picturesque? Yes. Productive? Kind of. Game changer? Not really.

 In stepped Cliff’s daughter, a student of Sports Psychology. She introduced me to the world of HIIT – High-Intensity Interval Training—in other words, hit the hills!

Where I live, I’m blessed with access to the hilly delights of Penarth, or as I first saw them, the hills have eyes, and those eyes are looking at hills!

The first climb was tough; the 2nd wasn’t easier, but eventually I progressed from 1 short Penarth Hill climb, barrage flat, approx 18KM, burning 307 calories in just under an hour (lunch break) to 7/8 full  hill climbs, similar distance and frying out 800+ calories or 5 glasses of Rioja 

The Heavy Beast helped shred almost 2st, increase my fitness and more importantly, eclipse Cliff on the now Infamous Black Cock Climb, affectionately titled after the humorously named and rather excellent pub, The Black Cock Inn.

The Beginning.