Overtakers Anonymous

My name is the Chicken, (*Note 5) and I am a pass-a-holic.

Yes, it’s true (sob). I just can’t stand to see folks ahead of me on bicycles. I just have to try to catch and pass them.

Now, of course this is a pathetic and totally futile exercise.

First off, the folks ahead aren’t racing me and couldn’t care less (*See note 1) if some mustachioed geek on a recumbent rumbles up behind them and proceeds to gasp and wheeze his way past.

Secondly, chances are I won’t catch them. After all, I’m no athlete, and many of the folks out on Beach Rd where I train most definitely are. A funny bike does not make up for being 20-30 years too old.

And lastly, of course, there’s always someone else ahead of them. You can’t pass them all – that way madness lies. * (see Note 2)

The only saving grace in the whole sorry situation is that being a pass-a-holic does mean that you get a pretty damn good workout.


*Note 1: unless they are a pass-a-holic themselves…. and there are a lot of these sorry specimens about.

*Note 2: The Fat Cyclist guide for actually scoring your ride if you are a totally unrepentant pass-a-holic can be found here:

*Note 3: Todays training ride and sad stats…

42km Beach Rd to Mordialloc & return.
Average speed 32km/hr*,
Max speed 51km/hr,
Bikes passed: 6. Passed by other bikes: 0 🙂

*Note 4: I reserve a special corner in Hell for the two white haired ladies who pressed the button on the pedestrian crossing at Ricketts Point, just as I came screaming down the hill at 50km/hr with the momentum I needed to boost me up the next hill into Beaumaris. Two ladies who smiled sweetly at me as they crossed … as I sat at the lights, panting with my brakes gently smoking.

*Note 5: No it’s not.


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