WE ARE THE ROLEURS EDIMBOURGEOISE

WHAT ARE WE DOING AND WHY ARE WE DOING IT

In March 2026, a mixed bag of ex-rugby players, mid-life wobblers, bald aerodynamic wonders and one highly competent woman will attempt to cycle from Melrose to Dublin in support of the My Name’5 Doddie Foundation.

To be clear, this is a serious challenge for this group. Most of us are not cyclists. Several of us are built for scrums, not saddles. Some haven’t been on a bike since secondary school. One lad thinks his Peloton leaderboard counts as road experience. And a worrying number of us grunt when tying our shoes.

We’re a team whose natural terrain is rugby pitches, bar stools and soft-play birthday parties, not 800 miles of tarmac in March. But we’re doing it anyway because MND has taken good people from us, and because Doddie’s legacy deserves every mile we can push out of our creaking hamstrings.

The Lycra will be tight. The weather will be mixed at best. The chafing will be unforgettable.

And every pound you donate will get this unlikely peloton one pedal-stroke closer to Dublin — and closer to a future without MND.

MEET OUR TEAM

Gregor "Ol' G" Lawson

Unquestionably the most ridiculous person I know from a very deep pool of candidates. A flair for the fantastic and the odd in equal measure, Ol G is to lycra what the cheerleaders are to the Dallas Cowboys only with facial pelt and slightly tighter hamstrings. Our organisational epicentre and director of get-up.

Likes: Lists. Ol G's delight and proficiency for a list would rival any stato. Whether arranged via dash, bullet point, number or Roman numeral, there's nothing that can't be listed. If a list can be passive aggressively presented as action points then so much the better. It's just how he rolls and we admire him all the more for it.

Most likely to: Steal a teammate's Kit Kat Chunky and organise people to within an inch of their disorganised lives.

Most likely to be heard saying: "As a rule I have no respect for cyclists".

Matt "The Oid" Thomas

The diametric opposite of Mackie with the rump of an 11 year old and the cruising speed of Hugh Grant. Last seen near a bike that moves in 1988 when his red Rayleigh provided several minutes of enjoyment. Has since discovered Olivia Amato on Peloton and has never looked back or seen the need to haul his increasingly 'rexy frame on to a road bike, viewing all cyclists as occupying the space in society that fits somewhere between Angela Rayner and Ant or Dec.

Likes: the correct use of the apostrophe and semi-colon, especially when deployed through the medium of instant messaging.

Most likely to: stack it whilst stationary and play human dominoes.

Most likely to be heard saying: "are we nearly there yet?"

Chris "Baccy" Baxter

The quiet man of the peloton and our resident Lloyds banker, calm under pressure, tidy with numbers, and the only one who could explain APR mid-climb. A naturally strong athlete who insists he’s “just ticking over”, though mainly because his wife, an annoyingly talented Irish sportswoman, has stolen all the family medals. Baccy brings balance, calm, and a solid dose of adulthood to a team otherwise populated by clowns, delinquents, and Mackie.

Likes: AI chatbots, steady cadence, and women who run marathons before breakfast.

Most likely to: Spend 200 miles quietly judging everyone’s nutritional choices before dropping the hammer on the final climb.

Most likely to be heard saying: You can’t go into the red on heart rate or your overdraft.

Ross "Mackie" Mackie

Spawn of the Sturgeon with a penchant for Bolly (highly complimentary apparently), the toilet of a bull elephant, the cruising speed of an agitated warthog and possessing the slipstream of a 3 week old unwashed cycling short, this man puts the contra in diction and is the epitome of MAMIL. There's nothing he doesn't know about cycling and isn't afraid to impart The Knowledge whether asked for it or not. Very much our spiritual leader and argument resolver.

Likes: kit. The more superfluous and essentially redundant the better.

Most likely to: attempt to breakaway early in a fit of pique from the warm bosom of the peloton, fail, and retreat to lick his separatist angst for the rest of the Tour.

Most likely to be heard saying: something coherent and apparently sense making to the question "Mackie would you go for a 52/36 front chainring set and 11-34T cassette as a good balance between being an absolute knob and a social outcast?"

Captain Ed "Fish" Mottram

A real life Captain of (short-haul) aviation who nobody respects on account of his employment with BA, his final salary pension, derisory working hours and his proficiency at button pushing. Although often found to be struggling at the lack of buttons to propel his Cannondale forward, he seems to genuinely enjoy cycling and takes his inspiration from Cody Rigsby.

Likes: Seville orange flavoured Tanqueray. Shameless.

Most likely to: order a Lady Boy in a Dublin bar.

Most likely to be heard saying: "anyone fancy a round of golf next Tuesday?"

Paul 'Dringo' Dring

Imagine a 1920s James Bond, if Bond preferred meat-and-two-veg, heirloom cutlery and holding doors open for people still a mile away. Known on the golf course as Poor Swing for his spectacularly average approach play, and no one is entirely sure how that’ll translate to a bike. But if charm, manners and goodwill generated watts, he’d be our GC contender.

Likes: Tradition, The Bill, and portions described as “hearty.”

Most likely to: Bring old-world decorum to a Lycra-based event.

Most likely to be heard saying: “Good heavens, that’s not how one behaves on a public highway.”

Alex "Wasp" Mackenzie

Profile: this waspish ex army captain takes heroic feats of endurance and being shot at by bandits in his short and wiry stride, experience that will be invaluable when negotiating the Valleys. More partial to a Guinness Zero than a Buckfast these days, Wasp is a man you would want in the trenches but probably wouldn't want on a spa day. Or an Old Firm riot.

Likes: Making the kind of coffee that would make an Ottoman warlord grovel for mercy.

Most likely to: go for a nocturnal warm-down ride before carbo-loading on a volume of pasta that would nourish a Sicilian family for a week.

Most likely to be heard saying: "After 770 miles you can just leave your carcass in a bin bag"

Fraser "Sploosh" Smeaton

Sploosh is something of an unknown quantity — a decent sportsman with a fondness for data, so in theory cycling should suit him perfectly. With the body hair of a boiled egg, he’s expected to save a whopping 7 watts, proof that evolution favours the bald. Sees this endurance event and time in gopping van as a well-earned holiday and a welcome break from parenting three small humans.

Likes: Cycling in luxury London gyms with towel service, aircon and motivational EDM.

Most likely to: Quote power-to-weight ratios despite having never experienced either.

Most likely to be heard saying: “I hear the first two days are the hardest...”

Paul "Hats" Hatton

Our lone Irishman a former 2nd row with medical-sales patter sharp enough to sell sand to a camel, he’s built for impact, entertainment, and absolutely not for climbing. Another fully aero bald unit, he’ll save at least 7 watts through streamlined scalp alone. Mad, funny and relentlessly enthusiastic, Hats is the kind of teammate every tour needs, even if he talks more than he pedals.

Likes: Rugby, chaos, and bikes that upset physiotherapists.

Most likely to: Stay in a hotel with a jacuzzi.

Most likely to be heard saying: “Lads, it’s grand — I’ve done worse.”

Nics "The Gaffer" Shering:

The only woman on the tour and, by some distance, the best lad. A Tweed Valley Mountain Rescue volunteer, serial adventurer and all-round safe pair of hands, Nics has climbed to the summit of Kala Patthar in the Himalayas, raced mountain bikes across Scotland, and conquered the Etape Caledonia around Pitlochry.

All told, she’s the one person you’d actually trust to get you out of a ditch. Her can-do attitude and quick thinking can fix nearly anything in a pinch - including, hopefully, this lot.

Likes: Competence, scenery, and men who can reverse without a spotter.

Most likely to: Administer first aid while recalculating the route and wondering how she ended up as the responsible adult.

Most likely to be heard saying: “You lot wouldn’t last ten minutes on a real mountain...”

Cammy “The Big Sleep” Wilson

Not a cyclist by any stretch, Cammy is an 18-stone Glasgow Accies winger turned front row forward who has joined the team to raise money for a great cause and an unwavering love of rugby. Built for scrums, not saddles, Cammy on a bike is less marginal gains and more engineering trial.

What he lacks in cycling pedigree he more than makes up for in his ability to sleep absolutely anywhere: vehicles, dinner parties and chalet Angela. The 2:45am Fishguard ferry may prove his toughest test yet, threatening his most sacred performance metric: horizontal recovery.

A big unit, a big presence, and proof this is still, at heart, a rugby tour on 2 wheels.

Likes: Rugby, naps, and lying down “just for five minutes.”

Most likely to: Fall asleep before the ferry sets sail.

Most likely to be heard saying: “I’m not built for this… but I’ll give it a go.”

Jeremy "Maves" Mavor

Maves is like a roll of pink Andrex: soft, strong and very, very long. At a vertiginous 6'8" Maves's natural habitat has always been in the engine room of the 2nd row, providing the kind of grunt akin to an asthmatic bread stick. As an indefatigable leaner at every ruck he's ever tickled, Maves is the only teammate I have ever seen come off a rugby pitch after 80 minutes cleaner than when he loped on to it. Now General Counsel at National Grid, Maves's signature MO is to fall asleep at his desk, occasionally whilst Heathrow is on fire.

Likes: to say "bof" a lot with a pseudo Gallic shrug, bottle of claret, a limp Gitanes and a smorgasboard of assorted cured sausage.

Most likely to: support France against England despite being educated in England until 18 and being christened "Jeremy"..