So, I caught the Tour Series race in Oxford St Giles on ITV4 (the final televisual resting place of competitive cycling) and it is possible to imagine that a tiny purplish blur in the background as the riders whipped by (we'd got a good spot on the final sprint) is me! Hello ... er, Dad, probably. He's the cyclist. I only caught the men's race (having been stuck in a careers fair in Witney) but that did mean I was watching the fastest (the hour just flew by), the most dangerous (two tumbles on the nastiest of the hairpins) and the noisiest (the Eagle and Child were supplying pints in plastic cups and the sprints were signalled by a blast of Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Two Tribes). Marcel Six aced the sprints, Scott Thwaites took the race and Chris Opie waved his fist at the sky as he just missed the top three. Great stuff, but sad I missed the womens' race.
Also, I'm not sure that purple shirt is really me. It may have to go back to the clothes swap.