We had to get up in the middle of the night to make it to Clapham for our 6 O'clock start.
That ended up as a 06:30 start because of trouble on the route.
This year we took our official cheerleaders with us on the riders coach.
Last year Dorrie, Sarah and Alex (in a full leg cast) never got to the finish line at all because of a dodgy coach driver and then lack of mobility once they had finally been dropped 2 miles up the coast in Hove.
This year Dorrie and Sarah got to see us finish.
And... A year on. Alex was able to do the ride with us. Yeyyyy...
It is always fun to ride with hundreds of other cyclists.The sights you see.
There were all sorts of bikes. Some that looked like they had just come out of the shed after being stored at the end of World War One.
Gears crunching, Moving parts squeaking. I guess oil was rationed in those bygone days.
And the riders. Well....
Some who thought they were elete road riders.
FFS. It was a charity ride not the Tour de France.
Risking life and limb to keep riding flat out on the wrong side of the road wasn't the most intelligent thing to be doing with oncoming vehicles intent on killing as many of us as possible.
Of course there were the opposite of the "elete".
What would you call them??
The ones who stopped before every hill and had a fag to calm their nerves before the walk up.
Our ride consisted of a nice steady run for about 20 miles and then a stop for a burger and a bit of a chat.
Then riding for the next 20 miles before stopping for another burger and a large slice (think house brick) of cake.On the second stop the organisers had layed out table and chairs for some of the more important riders of the day.
It started to rain just before Ditchling Beacon but that didn't last more than a few minutes and then the sun came out proper just in time for the biggest climb of the day.It had been warm until then but it was roasting as we made our way up the long climb.
You had to zig zag your way through the slow moving and walking throng.
Once at the top we regrouped and told tall stories about how we had wheelied all the way up and how we never got out of the big ring. 
Then it was all downhill into Brighton.What a great feeling to get to the finishing line with people cheering and the sun blazing away overhead.
Once we had calmed down and taken the "I've got a medal" pictures we went off to get changed.
Now what? Ah yes. All down the pub for some lovely nosh and a couple of beers with our mates.
With all the sunshine it would have been rude not to go to the beach.The kids (Chris, Haydn, Tracy included) couldn't help themselves and had to get into the sea.
I was happy just to lay back and think of England.....and get sun burnt face.That seemed very amusing to my work colleagues on the Monday morning.
The coach ride home was long and uncomfortable.
Numb bums all around please.
Thanks to all who took part and made it a great day.
A special up to Steve who organised it for us.
Many thanks to those who sponsored a rider.
If you didn't. There's still time.
It is a good cause you know.
