According to my teenage kids, I am officially a "chunk". When I was running downstairs a couple of years ago, one of them observed that I needed a bra. I have since lost three stone, but I am still a Tub-o-Lard, and a recovering 40-a-day smoker (quit that three years ago).
So, it was with some pride that this weekend, I managed to ride up Bradenham Hall Hill (Helen knows it) without dropping below 20km/hr; and without needing Intensive Care or CPR when I reached the top.
