Back in Stoke for the Christmas holidays, and it’s a good opportunity to undertake a pilgrimage I’ve been meaning to do for ages; screwed to a brick pillar of a most unattractive building in Stoke-on-Trent, is an unassuming small brass plaque that tells the athletic tale of the (20th) century.

In 1939, Tommy Godwin cycled 75, 065 miles.

No – you didn’t misread that number and no, I haven’t mistyped or misquoted the amount.

Once again: 75, 065 miles – or an absolutely incredible average of 205.66 miles per day.

Perhaps the greatest endurance feat of all time, and one of the least well-known and celebrated; Tommy Godwin’s record-breaking ride deserves to take it’s rightful place as one of the greatest athletic achievements of all time.

However, this is sadly not the case. Born in an age well before millionaire footballers, golfers and tennis players, Tommy’s achievement seems to have been forgotten by all except his family, close friends and a relatively small circle of cyclists. I’d like to see Tommy’s achievement gain wider recognition. In my opinion, it’s one of the greatest achievements of a British man or woman – or indeed of any man or woman in history!

As someone who suffers to achieve distances over 60-65 miles a day, I simply cannot comprehend how it’s physically possible to average over 200 miles a day for 365 days! More than this, Tommy went on to achieve a staggering 100,000 miles in 500 days.

I had always known of the legend of Tommy since I was a young lad. My father had been secretary of the North-Staffs section of the National Cyclists Union at a time when Tommy had been Chairman, and had talked often about him. However, it is only recently that I’ve come to fully appreciate the magnitude of his achievement, and also on a personal level how well respected and loved he was by friends and family.

In the New Year, I’m hoping to gather more info on Tommy, and collate it together in a website: www.tommygodwin.com

But you promised us a tale of two Tommy’s I hear you cry! Well, another cycling pilgrimage that I’ve decided to undertake next year is to Tommy Simpson’s memorial on the slopes of Mount Ventoux. A much better known tale, Tommy Simpson tragically met his end on the mountain; the 13th stage of the 1967 Tour De France – the post mortem confirmed that Tommy had been taking amphetamines and alcohol at the time. Simpson’s story is tragic, yet commands great respect within the cycling world. It seems at odds with the quiet, tee-totalling Godwin and his lesser known tale. Both stories interest me greatly, and I hope to write more about them over the next few months.

Merry Christmas to all – and wishing you a very successful and prosperous New Year!

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