So. I arrived at the top of Cleish Hill. Pingu had already been there for 5 minutes and a queue was starting to form at the Irn Bru-liveried ice cream van. It occurred to me, as I stood there dripping sweat, that there was a reason that no one else was doing the ride on fixed.

Hi. My name’s Sam and I ride fixed.

It started, you know, with just a suggestion and a nub of an idea that it might improve my spinning technique. Before I knew it I’d built up this Raleigh Sun Solo with contemporary Cinnelli bars. Then I bought some Campag Record Aero levers for it over the now-defunct C+ classified section. Then came the Goldtech chainring and the new headset.

It wasn’t long before I started craving something more. Something less hack. Something that didn’t look like it was made of scaffolding poles and rust. That’s when I got in touch with Brant. A couple of months later and I had bought an Il Pompino. For a while I had to ride singlespeed, saving up for the money to convert to fixed. Then I did it. I bought the double fixed hub and rebuilt the rear wheel to ride 42×16 – 70″. Did my first medium distance ride carrying the C+ forum jersey.

I can’t get enough of it now. My other bikes are neglected. My Orbit Harrier is barely speaking to me – it’s now nearly July and he still has his winter hokey-spokes on. I just haven’t taken them off because I can’t stop riding fixed.

I guess… I guess maybe I have a problem.

Five minutes later Clare and Frood arrived. Frood had paused to scoff flapjacks just where I had stopped to catch my breath. He arrived growling about a need for the largest ice cream the world had ever seen. I bought a round of ice cream. While I was buying ice cream I spotted clouds of midges, but thought no more of it. We wouldn’t feel the effects of those until the next day.

After ice cream, more flapjacks and coffee it was time for the descent. Again I thought that maybe there was a reason people weren’t doing the ride on fixed. By the time I got to the bottom of the steep, twisty, narrow descent my hands were cramping and I was having serious concerns about rim failure or brakes catching on fire.

It seemed hardly any time at all before we reached Kinross and the lunch stop. For all you Dun Runners out there, this was like the Dun Run only better. I am not a big eater when riding, so I was content with a banana, but everyone else got their filled rolls in good order, and Mrs Pingu got her flippers on some millionaire’s shortbread. Well done to the Kinross Round Table for that.

Out of Kinross and round the back of Falkland Hill via Balgeddie to Freuchie. Some more long, gentle descents that, with the tailwind, ended up being almost as hard as the climbs. I discovered that being forced to ride at 140rpm for 15 minutes at a stretch is very good for improving spinning technique but doesn’t half bugger your knees.

Next stop tea and cake at Freuchie, with the ladies at the Church Hall. Again, the sort of spread of which the Women’s Institute could have been proud. It was welcomed and needed because the next obstacle was Cadger’s Brae — a 1 in 6 climb of narrow, twisty proportions that didn’t even have the decency to be on a smooth road surface.

I attacked, but really I was defeated before I made the attempt. The sight of the riders ahead, crawling into the sky at what seemed to be a 45° angle, had done for me while I was still on the slow slog to the foot of the climb proper. I managed about ¾ of the climb and had to decide to get off before my front wheel touched the steepest section and I stalled and fell off. Perhaps if I had been on a smaller gear or the road had been smoother, or there had been more room to tack — or perhaps if I had spent the first half of the year in serious hill training — I might have made it. As it was I had to walk approximately 100 yards before climbing back on and taking the last quarter mile of ascent en velo.

And that was pretty much the last point of interest. The rest of the ride was rolling, with a couple of surprise climbs — notably the one by Craigrothie. The signage in St Andrews was appalling, and quite a few folk got lost. But we got there in the end and collected our certificates.

By about 11pm that night I was aware that I had been badly sunburnt on my face and I could barely walk because my knees were so painful. I had a bruise on my left thigh the size of Manhattan and some serious lady-chafing, the latter of which I hope to solve before the Dun Run with a bit of judicious saddle beaking.

My knees were both better by Sunday, although not completely splendid, and we had also discovered the midge bites. I am covered in them. Any exposed skin has been subject to the ravages of Scotland’s top predator. Bizarrely, out of the blue the physio called me on my mobile on Sunday evening. I had failed to get back to them after my first speculative email because my knee seemed to be better. With the state it was in I had already resolved to phone today and make an appointment. The physio had gone one better — he had already made me one. It sounds as if he’s exactly the sort of physio I need.

I think I’ll be fit enough to manage this year’s Dun Run on fixed, assuming my knee issues are resolved. I would certainly recommend LEPRA as a good test bed to see if you have the legs and the machine for it. While it’s only half the distance, it’s a much tougher ride in terms of terrain.

For photos I’m going to have to be very nice to Mr and Mrs Pingu.