Years ago my wife, me and my then 13 year-old son were doing the Lance Armstrong charity ride. That year it was a figure eight; fifty milers did one loop, hundred milers did the whole figure eight, starting and ending on the fifty mile loop. We were doing the fifty.

"Ahem", we didn't pass very many people but many people passed us, until we were sort of alone and the sag wagon crews all looked at us with concerned expressions as they passed. On the second half of the loop, the returning spandex-clad 100 milers began to fly close by us, roadies all, in dense packs....... "whizwhizwhizwhizwhiiiiizwhiwhiwhizzz".

At one point I looked back and here comes Lance hisself, riding alone at a moderate pace (perhaps he was off his meds). Passing us he slowed down, looked concerned and asked if we were doing OK.

The moral of that story being we have looked back and actually found ourselves in front of Lance Armstrong while riding

We did make the finish line with only minutes to spare, and my son got his new bike as promised, the same one I commute on today.

Mike