BRADLEY WIGGINS would laugh at any suggestion my cycle to Paris two years back in any way equates to the Maida Vale hero's fabulous fourth in the Tour de France this week.

Three-and-a-bit days in the saddle at a gentle 20kmh would not even warm up his bony backside, never mind the three weeks he scorched around French roads at twice the pace.

But believe me, for social cyclists, 850km is massively hard. Having to crawl up northern French hills one after the other had only one advantage - you can eat anything you want, for as long as you want - and you won't put on weight, such are the calories expended.

By contrast, the former St Augustine's pupil raced up Alpine peaks that most of us would put the car in second gear to climb.

And any cyclist who makes the top five of the 3,000km-plus Tour is the equivalent of keeper, central defender and striker on a football pitch at the same time - if you don't climb, time trial and stay with the peloton when it matters, you're a domestique at best.

Wiggins had to shed a stone before the Tour began - no mean feat when you're already matchstick-thin - while having to maintain the strength to turn over the pedals day-in, day-out.

Yet the 29-year-old impressed so much his original supporting role for his team leader went out the window.

As I suffered, the minor consolation was wolfing down three Mars bars in one afternoon. But Wiggo wants to see Paris from the podium next year - not the inside of a sweet shop.

His chances? I'm off to the bookies to check out the very short odds.