Real cycling is not about gear ratios. Or wearing lycra the colour of rainforest toads. Or pedalling to the country pub in the sun, then getting a taxi back because it's dark and raining.
Real cycling is fixing your second puncture on a windy night.
It's buying a three-metre curtain pole, then realising you have to bike it home like a medieval jouster.
It's crunching your way to work through thick snow, arriving half an hour late icy-toed and white-fingered – to find everyone else has taken the day off because their cars wouldn't start.
Real cycling is frustrating, inconvenient, exhausting – and huge fun. See which of these things you've done to find your Real Cyclist rating out of 100.