(100) Days of Cycling

Well, we're here - the final week of full training and it's another big one.  600km is the goal again this week and it's looking like even more of a challenge than usual. With the Betfair Caribbean Summer Party on Friday night and a Stag night to attend on Saturday a few of us are already scratching our heads as to how that's all going to work!  Actually the sensible ones have stopped thinking about it, written it off as impossible and are already trying on their best Caribbean beachwear.  Sadly it's now two sizes too big for them!! :)

Dan and I, however, are both stubborn and less smart and threw ourselves back into the breach again yesterday morning.  Akin to some form of Stockholm Syndrome, we are both clearly becoming accepting of (or maybe resigned to) the routine that comes of being a LifeCycle hostage.  Seemingly incapable of original thought, we religiously got up at the same time and set off on the same route around the island again.  The route we have mapped out is long enough to give us the mileage we needed and in this depleted mental and physical state it was, to be honest, just a little too hard to plan a new one.  Despite the wind still blowing we soldiered on and completed just shy of 70km before heading to work.

Mondays Ride Stats


But we're not alone in our routine you know.  We see many of the same faces every morning as we tour the island.  Malta is a hive of activity in the mornings and evenings as we cycle around the coast.  I love how the Maltese embrace walking as a form of exercise and have managed to combine it with meeting friends and family every day to make it a social, and far less dull affair.  Regular as clockwork we see them powering up and down the roads and beach fronts chatting away to each other, putting the world to rights away from the heat of the day. 

The ones we see after sun up on the coast are the sane ones.  Not only because they, unlike us, have figured out that the Maltese roads are no place to undertake any form of safe exercise.  But they've also figured out how to combine their sociable exercise routine with being able to appreciate the fabulous environment for exercise created by the early morning sun. 

What I can't figure out is why so many others choose to get up in the middle of the night and walk the streets of Naxxar and Mosta in the pitch black at 4am when they don't have to!!  Are they mad? Is there some kind of vampire sub culture that exists on the island and only comes out in the hours of darkness?

Yesterday evening we had another team meeting where Amy Zahra and Priscilla Buttigieg came to share their experience of suffering from renal failure with us, joined by Liz Micallef from the backup team who talked about how the illness impacted her father. 

Three stories with different beginnings and endings but all delivered with honesty, humour and emotion and telling of unimaginable bravery and determination in the face of adversity.  These meetings are known for their chatter and background noise, but yesterday there was total silence as everyone listened to the stories unfold.  Without exception everyone left the meeting in total awe of how and what the patients deal with and with a reinforced determination to complete the challenge and raise as much as possible.

Today marks the 100th day of training and, although daily life seems to be nothing but a never-ending round of cycling and all things LifeCycle, the last 3 1/2 months have flown by in a blur.  So far all talk has really been about how things have gone, and how things have improved or not. "How far did you go last week?" "Excellent, I managed to average 24kmh yesterday"  Obviously that wasn't Lenny - He said "I managed to average 30kmh yesterday" Everyone is looking back at the training done and looking for the improvements made.


The 40+ remaining cyclists have seen the mileage and the effort crank up a notch  every 3 weeks.  Weekly targets of 180km became 250km, then 330km, 450km and finally 600km.  Steadily getting tougher and tougher and each time being able to look back and feel the pain but also see the improvement.

But, the 100th day of training also marks 20 days before the ride kicks off in Venice.  20 more days before all of that training is going to be put to the test and the toughest 12 days any of us has experienced will begin. 

Day 100 Ride Stats

What is interesting is the subtle but evident shift in conversation and mind set in the last few days. We are all mentally and physically preparing for what is to come now, rather than looking at what has past. With this last week of intense training, and two weeks of tapering remaining, there are no more new heights to aim for, except the ride itself.  And finally it's close enough to see as real. 

Thoughts are turning to making sure we are ready for the challenge.  People don't want to know how far you went last week anymore.  As LifeCycle veterans, Ian and Lenny are suddenly more popular than ever in the office.  Detailed questions about what it's like, how to cope, what do we need and what advice would you give rain down on them in team meetings.  Everyone is sorting out their bikes, their kit bags, their sleeping bags, their food needs.   

Reading the packing list in week one many of us novices stared at the bike parts list with an "as if!" grin on their faces.  Now the full horror has well and truly dawned on us and we're discussing how many spare chains and how many spare spokes to take.  And it gets worse....

"What tyres do you have?" has become "Are they the 2.0's or the 1.6's?"

"Are you taking protein drinks?" has become "What quantity of what brand and how often are you planning on taking it?"

"Do you think I'll need chamois cream?" has become "How much chamois cream have you used already? And how much are you legally allowed to take with you?"

It may be a huge challenge in every way - a year in the planning, 80 particpants/victims, 16 weeks training, 12 days cycling, 2000km covered, 7 countries visited - but ultimately success or failure is going to be down to the little things being done right.  It's a level of detail that no one has really given a second thought to until now, but we all now appreciate that the devil is in the detail.  If we weren't obsessed already, give us two more weeks and we will be! 

20 days and counting.......  :)

No iPod today, but I heard this playing through a car window today that helped raise the pace to the office.  (and no Dan, it's not the taxi driver cruising Sliema seafront blaring out "I will always love you" at full volume)

Windows Down!

The Trial

The kids were due to fly in on the late flight last night so I could only assume they were all safe and soundly asleep when I got up this morning.  There were suitcases in the hall so things were looking good.  They've been gone way too long and I'm already looking ahead to the end of today's training and spending time with them all.

Yesterday was a long, long day, so the plan was to do a shorter session today.  More importantly it was the second time trial today.  The idea being to do the same 10km climb we did 6 weeks ago and to see how much we had improved.  Because of that, Commander Curry had instructed everyone to do no more than an hour's riding before the meet at 7am, so we got the benefit of an extra hour in bed....luxury!

But that's where the good news stopped - a quick step outside and it looked like the weathermen were right.  Judging by the way that the sunloungers were being picked up and whipped around the garden by some invisible force, it seemed the wind was even stronger than yesterday.  Either that or we need the services of an exorcist!  Rather than trust my own eyes, I actually went online and checked the weather sites to be certain.

One thing was for sure - the time trial was going to be tough today - trial by name and trial by nature.  The weather combined with the lead that seemed to be filling my legs from yesterday suggested that a miracle was needed if I was going to get close to my previous time. In my head I already knew that a 10km sprint was nothing to do with a 2,000km challenge, and beating my time would be a "nice to have" rather than an essential part of the preparation.  But it was a target, there to be beaten just the same!

Arriving at the briefing, I hear 35 minutes is the 'target' in the prevailing wind conditions and 30 minutes would be a good time as the wind will be against us all the way up the hill to Rabat.  So I set my sights on anywhere between my previous time of 27 minutes 40 seconds and 30 minutes.  We set off in the order we finished last time, starting with the slowest first.  I'm somewhere in the middle, off in 17th spot, and get a decent start but can really feel the wind pushing me backwards.

Dan - faster than me last time - is right behind me, following 10 seconds later.  It's weird but knowing someone is behind you, without knowing how close they are and whether they're gaining ground constantly plays on your mind.  Even when the race is really against your previous personal best, you can't help thinking about it.

About 5km in, I see a shadow and hear someone on my shoulder.  Evan and Ian blaze past me up the Attard hill.  Where did they come from?  How far behind Dan were they?  In the first trial we didn't set off in any order, and I actually overtook a few people on the way up - it gives you a real sense of moving forwards and lifts you.  But being overtaken has the opposite effect multiplied by a factor of 10, even when you know you should expect it, nothing quite prepares you for it.  After all, the reason they are behind me is that they were faster than me last time, so why wouldn't they be this time?

Dan then edges past, although I manage to keep up close to him and even start to close again.  Then I hear beeping.  Regular, incessant beeping. "Beep-beep.  Beep-beep. Beep-beep.  Beep-beep." 


I KNOW that noise!  All of a sudden I see myself as Captain Hook in Peter Pan with THAT crocodile circling.  It's Lee and his heart rate monitor.  I think he has it set to alert when his heart rate reaches a threshold he wants to avoid, yet I still hear that noise up almost every hill as he pushes himself on!!


The crocodile swallows me whole and starts to close on Dan.  Soon Dan is croc lunch too.


I've also noticed something about Dan in the last few months.  Dan is half greyhound / half excitable puppy.  We can be drafting together for km's on end and it's like an effortless machine working perfectly together.  And then it happens.  When Dan sees a cyclist in the distance it's like a greyhound seeing the rabbit, and he's off.  His sole mission in life is to catch that rabbit and he won't stop until he does.  His pace lifts instantly and I have to drive myself forward to keep up.  It's great for pushing the pace in training usually, and it definitely keeps you on your toes!  But, today as he sets off in pursuit of Lee, I don't have it in me and they both head off into the distance.  


By the time we reach Dingli at the top, I've managed to catch Alex while Dave, Steve and one or two others have also come past me.  My original time has also passed me by and I cross the line in 30 minutes and a couple of seconds - 26th place in a field of around 40.  Not bad in the circumstances, but I'm guessing most will have beaten their previous times.  


Todays Time Trial Stats


My family are all at home, It's been a long week - 8 days riding without a break - and I finally head back with 65km on the clock.  Ideally I'd have done another 15km but most of them would have sapped my energy even further so the draw of home, combined with the need to have something in the tank for tomorrow are enough to convince me that I'm good to go.

By 11.30am we're all in the pool.  Thoughts of the last big week of training can wait.

FAIL!

So today was going to be a big day, and this weekend is a big weekend.  Our kids fly back from the UK tonight - they've all been gone way too long and we can't wait to see them again.  I didn't really want to be out cycling for 8 hours on Sunday and miss half the day, which worked for Dan too, so we agreed to do our big ride on Saturday and leave less to do on Sunday.  We also wanted to break 200km in one ride for the first time and as a result planned to set off at 4.15am to beat the worst of the heat.

Last night was THE hottest and most humid night I have experienced in Malta and I had a fitful nights sleep.  Add to that knowing I was getting up even earlier than usual and I was awake pretty much every hour on the hour, and was already awake before the alarm.  Despite feeling like I'd had no sleep at all I was in good form and looking forward to breaking the target as I got ready to head out.  For anyone interested Alfie's teeth are getting sharper and he can now happily sink them into a calf as well as any passing toe!

We planned to loop the island. Twice.  And headed off towards Golden Bay to start the long haul 8 hour trip.  Dan's front light had broken last week and so had a torch attached to his bike, shining like a small super nova and making me realize just how useless my light is in comparison.  As last week, it was pitch black out.  And the further out to the country we headed, the darker it got- not a street light in sight and only Dan's light of any use what so ever so I tried riding side by side as far as possible.  

It hadn't, stupidly, ever crossed my mind that the light had a function other than showing people where I was.  Just so you know, it's also really useful for seeing where you are going when you're cycling in a blackout.  Add to that the dire state of the Maltese roads and you can imagine how difficult it was hurtling down the hill towards Golden Bay at 40kmh bouncing over the potholes and ruts while still avoiding serious injury, but somehow I managed it.  To make matters worse my light shook loose and ended up pointing straight at the ground underneath me!

As we navigated the dark towards St Pauls and light we saw small white lights in the distance.  Some flashing and some not.  Aliens? Fireflies? No.  As they were almost upon us, 5 more LifeCycle cyclist came into view, a quick wave and they were engulfed in the blackness behind us never to be seen again.

I had none of last weeks feelings of gloom in the dark, and actually found the first hour really enjoyable.  We were over taken on the Coast Road by a lad in his boy racer mobile but caught up with him about 2km later slewed across the road having swerved and hit the opposite kerb/wall.  I'm sure something must have run out in front of him for him to lose control like that!  What on earth else could it have been?  T*s**r.  No serious damage done though, and on we went.

Rounding St Georges Bay as light came up it was as if some kind of human bomb had exploded in Paceville - scores of students scattered all over the beach, like extras in Saving Private Ryan - some walking and talking in a daze, others totally unconscious.  There was the also the post-Paceville-munchies debris to match of course - Dan's only comment was along the lines of "I pity the bloke who has to tidy that lot up!" :)

6.30am, going well, and a red sunrise greets us as we round Valetta  While we're trying to figure out how we can extend our route by an hour to reach the cafe in Birzebugga after around 3 hours riding for breakfast we meet Liz and her two "minders" at Marsa roundabout.  They lead us through the Three Cities to Smart City, Marsascala and on to Marsaslok.  I have to be honest, the route was a bit bumpy in places, but it was great to spend time with a bigger group, and to see a new route to take.  It also got us to the cafe with just over 3 hours down.  Perfect timing and 73km down!

If you haven't been to the Country Style Cafe in Birzebugga you have to go - it's not in the best spot but the coffee is good and they have a huge selection of donuts to choose from. It's SO good they even have Diet Donuts on the menu!  GENIUS!  "Why are they diet?" I asked.  "I think they have some kind of syrup in them." came the nutritiously sound reply.  I think I'll stick with the non-diet variety, thanks, they're probably more healthy!

No doubt at this point that a 2pm and 200km finish is well on the cards.

We left the others there at around 8am and set off for Freeport.  As soon as we got there the wind, which had been getting up slowly suddenly hit us full on and stayed that way for the next 35km.  Our average speed dropped from 24kmh to around 17kmh in places as the strength of the wind increased sometimes taking all our energy to get any forward movement at all, particularly on the hills.

Eventually we rounded Golden Bay for the second time and headed along the coast road.  Finally the wind was sometimes with us, although bizarrely was still more often than not fighting us all the way, no matter which way we were headed.  And now, not only the wind to contend with but also that other energy sapper, the heat.

Back at St Georges Bay and "that bloke" has done an amazing job on the beach - it's now pristine and rammed full of sun worshippers.  Not a sign of the carnage earlier in the day.

We reach the Waterfront in Valetta after another 3 hours and a total of just over 140km down.  The temperature is a scorching 40 degrees and its only 11am.  We decide to "go posh" and have our pit stop inside the Hard Rock Cafe - it's dark and cool, and neither of us are really feeling like we want to leave, but we only have another 60km to go and should be home by 2pm at this rate.

By the time we reach Birzebugga again the wind is gusting at around 25kmh and is even worse than before.  When I was growing up I had a recurring nightmare where I was either running or cycling desperately trying to get somewhere but there was a wind so strong that it made it impossible for me to move forwards.  Well, today that nightmare proved to be more like a vision of the future.

It was miserable climbing the hill into the wind with no respite again and after just another hour or so we stop again at the airport to take on food and water.  By this time the legs are beginning to feel heavy but we push on.  The onslaught continues and by Rabat I've had enough.  I'm at 175km and Dan's already at 180km.  It's nearly 2pm already and we have at least another hour, mostly against the wind if we still want to reach our goal.  

On any other day we would have done it easily, but the wind is the strongest its been in weeks.  I don't fancy another hour of this torture but chatting it through we talk ourselves into a different, maybe less windy, route.  Within another 10 minutes though even that plan is abandoned, we concede defeat and head into Mosta and towards home.

I get home 10 hours after I left and with 182km on the clock.  In reality it's probably a big win in the conditions, certainly farther than either of us have gone before, and we did cover the required distance. 

But, no matter the reason, we didn't make 200km and it feels rubbish - a real anti-climax after such a positive start.  Maybe I'll see it in a different light by the morning but for now it's a mind game of "what if's" and "if onlys".

Looking at the forecast for tomorrow - its more of the same - not great for the 10km time trial we have scheduled.  Fingers crossed the Maltese weathermen are as bad as the English ones!  At least I'll have my family back tomorrow - with that tailwind, they may even be here already :)

It is a new PB, so here are the stats in case you're interested:

Day 97 - Saturday 180km Ride

Day 95 - The Race Of The Three Andy's

By lunchtime yesterday I was feeling as if I hadn't slept for a week and was as weak as Alfie the kitten on the day we found him.  Despite eating a boat load of couscous and tuna, followed by a "healthy" man-size bowl of cereal for lunch, I was in the same state again after a really short 6km ride home last night.  Maybe yesterday's "sedate" pace was too much for me after all?  I decided to eat my way out of trouble and managed to demolish enough chilli and rice to feed a small army before heading to bed feeling more full than on any Christmas Day afternoon in living memory :)

Rode solo again today as Dan's away, but I was feeling pleased with myself - I had a cunning plan following a chat we had yesterday, to make life a little more interesting.  "Is it as cunning as a fox who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University?"  I could almost hear Baldrick ask. Most definitely. Through the amazing beauty and utter genius of technology I took yesterdays route and rode it again with the benefit of a Virtual Me to ride against, in the form of an avatar on my GPS.

Interesting really that the LifeCycle Challenge itself is about 40 riders preparing themselves for a personal challenge to reach the finish line. Nothing more. This isn't like the Tour de France - it's not a race.  There is no winner and no first prize for the first home on each day or at the end.  

To quote Baz Luhrmann:

"sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind… the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself."

That may be true, but I don't think I'm alone in seeing competition in everything I do?  Put any group of people together to do anything and I guarantee that the red mist will descend and a competition will break out.

For the front riders in our challenge, they'll be creating their own "competitions" to keep them going I'm sure, and I do the same.  I know I have no chance of keeping up with many of the riders in our event - they are all fitter, (mostly) younger and more experienced cyclists than me.  Even though I know that, there is an unexplainable increase in adrenalin (and pace) on a Sunday combined with a totally unreaslistic desire to catch all of the yellow jerseys that are ahead of me.  If not catch them, then at least close the gap and get there (wherever "there" happens to be) quicker than I would otherwise.

I'm sorry, but even if the competition is ultimately only with myself I can't help but look to create an element of competition with the others, just to help me in my own personal duel.

Hang on, what's this??!!  Is this yet another unspoken doubt being cast over my ability to ride at pace?  Yesterday we covered the distance in 3 hours and 10 minutes, yet Virtual Me is "challenging" me to cover it today in 3 hours and 15 minutes?  I can't believe even my own GPS has turned against me!!

Brilliant! Now, not only can I stay true to Baz by only racing myself, but I could race against myself twice - Virtual Me and Yesterday Me, based on yesterday's time.  So, with that challenge set, I hit the start button and the race was on!

I felt far stronger today thanks to Claire's magic chilli and I took a lead on Virtual Me within the first km.  Difficult to know whether I'm on track to win since he's chosen to ride at the same speed all the way round - I'll gain on the flats and he'll gain on the hills.  Even more difficult to know if I'm ahead of Yesterday Me but it did feel like my pace was good.

The road at St Georges Bay and the Westin was covered in water and as slippery as a truck load of jelly monkeys.  My back tyre went twice but my luck held and I stayed upright, and smiling.  Yesterday Me didn't have to cope with that!

The race progressed and I was pulling away nicely from Virtual Me.  By the time I reached the top of Freeport hill I had crushed him like a grape and knew it was down to a two man race against Yesterday Me.  2 hours to this point and no re-collection of how long it was yesterday.  No chance of telling from the remaining distance - with Siggiewi hill still to come I was worried it could still go either way, and pushed on again.

Coming off the Zebbug bypass and rounding the Rabat roundabout I had 25 minutes to reach the office in first place.  Surely the race was mine?  One more obstacle - flying down the Attard road you never know whether the road will be at a stand still in the village.  Yesterday Me had a clear road so odds on I'll get stuck and hand him the victory.

No!  The road was clear and I'm through Attard and up the hill with no delays.  I knew victory was mine, but didn't let up.  I'd beaten them both and the only target left was to break the 3 hour mark.  Despite a final hitch approaching the office with a dawdling donut who couldn't park a mini in four empty spaces, I was down the ramps and at the door with 13 seconds to spare! 

I'd left Virtual Me still labouring somewhere near the Rabat roundabout and Yesterday Me coming out of Attard - the race may only have been against myself and there may not be any prizes at stake, but it feels bl**dy good anyway :)

The Victorious Race Stats For Real Me...

And the song that got me home?  Muse....

Day 94 - An Apparently Sedate 75km Around Malta

Claire and I passed like ships in the night yesterday - she headed out for a night on the town with her mates just as I got home from my evening ride, leaving me to fend for myself.  All of a sudden I felt a totally irrational sense of guilt thinking I should be doing something family related!  "Where's the catch? Am I going to get beaten senseless for not offering some kind of sacrifice?"  Apparently not!


Then I had a sense of panic - "what do I do now?  Relax and watch TV? Clean the bike? Go to bed early and catch up on sleep?"  I had no idea how institutionalised I've become by the routine forced on me after weeks of LifeCycle Boot Camp and could barely cope with the disruption to normal service.  Life after LifeCycle - I hope there's a book on how to cope with the loss. 

Eventually the anxiety subsided and I managed to make some dinner, watch a bit of TV and hit the hay around 10.30pm  I had the deepest sleep I've had in months and have absolutely no idea what time Claire came home, but found it almost impossible to get up after the alarm went off.  The closest yet to reaching Reason 3 and needing to find a 4th and 5th, but snatched getting up from the jaws of sleeping in.

After Dan's 80km sprint with Lenny yesterday, he joined me for what he calls a "sedate" 75km stroll around the island this morning.  Rude!  See for your self and you decide if you'd call 23kmh sedate!

Day 94 - A Sedate 75km Around Malta

To be fair, the ride felt reasonably painless and I'm pleased to say that "knocking out" a quick 75km before breakfast is not so much of a challenge these days.  Not sure that means I'm ready to do 200km+ before dinner every day for 11 days though.

Sadly I didn't get to buy that lottery ticket the other day, which may prove a costly error since lady luck continues to shine her light this way.  Ian and I had a great meeting with a potential sponsor today, BMIT Ltd - an internet hosting company on the island - who agreed to be a platinum sponsor.  Making our way steadily towards the target we need to reach!

Thanks also to "The Weasel Pack" - another group of riders taking part in the challenge this year for their support this week.  Much appreciated gents, thank you.  As I said before you can feel a real "whole" team is beginning to be built from all of the smaller groups now, looking out for each other, and perfectly timed for the beginning of the adventure.

Last song on the iPod today? This was playing as I headed down the ramp into the depths of the Betfair car park; an absolute classic...

What Am I Complaining About?

A really easy day today - a quick 25km at either end of the work day - so not much to tell about the ride. 

This mornings ride stats

Instead I thought I'd tell you about the other day when  I visited the Renal Unit at the Mater Dei Hospital with some fellow riders so we could learn a little more about why we’re all taking on the LifeCycle Challenge.

So you think you’ve had a tough day? How often do you find yourself complaining that things are tough or haven’t quite gone your way? Well, I tell you what, sometimes we don’t know we’re born.

So what exactly is renal failure and what does the renal unit do? Renal failure or kidney failure is where the kidneys fail to function adequately. There are two forms: acute kidney injury and chronic kidney disease; either form may be due to a large number of other medical problems. When the kidneys malfunction, problems frequently encountered are abnormal fluid levels in the body, abnormal levels of potassium, calcium, phosphate, blood in the urine and anemia. Long-term kidney problems have significant repercussions on other diseases, such as cardiovascular disease.

It’s really hard to detect and you may have 50% renal failure and not even know it! Once you have been diagnosed the treatment is regular dialysis either at home or at the hospital. Unless you are lucky enough to find a match donor and receive a transplant you will be doing this for the rest of your life.

Treatment in the hospital involves 3-4 visits a week, each for between 3-4 hours while the machines there do the work your body can no longer do for itself. Can you imagine knowing that every other day you have to carve out a morning or an afternoon to go and lie in a bed for 3 hours to be connected to a machine that effectively “washes” your blood for you?

If you are lucky, you can do this treatment at home, usually with a manual process where you perform the dialysis 3 times during the day. Even at home this must be a huge restriction on your daily routine and on your family and work life. Arguably your best hope is an overnight treatment with a portable machine that works while you sleep over an 8-hour period.

I think it’s fair to say that none of these are great options, but they are the only ones available until a donor is found. It was truly humbling to meet the staff and the patients at the unit yesterday. Seeing how the patients deal with this harsh and unfair role of the dice with such good grace and humour, with no trace of bitterness is amazing and certainly puts our day to day problems firmly into perspective. No doubt I’ll be complaining about little inconveniences again within a few days, but for now, I stand well and truly corrected as to how bad my problems really are. It’s so easy to take for granted being able to do what you want, when you want to. Can you imagine being a 15 year old kid and not being able to take full advantage of that; to be so restricted?

There are currently around 220 patients at the renal unit, half of whom are treated on the ward, and half through home treatment. There are only 40 portable overnight units available so around 70 of the home based patients will treat themselves manually during the day. The other 110 will regularly visit the hospital. Less than 10% of these patients can hope to receive a donor in the next 12 months due to a lack of signed up donors in Malta.

The dialysis machines cost around €30,000 each and treatment for a year will also cost between €25,000-€30,000 every year – that’s around €150-€200 per treatment per patient. It’s also a huge amount of money to be found every year.

LifeCycle is aiming to raise €200,000 this year to pay for new machines, treatment, and things to make whiling away the hours on the ward less boring (like TV’s for example) and also to fund ways to make it more convenient for the patients to get to the hospital. Raising cash is one way we can help. Raising awareness to find 1,000 new donors is another important objective.

Personally I’m aiming to contribute €2,700 towards this total, as is every other member of the team. I know that you’re probably bored of receiving sponsorship requests from your friends and families all the time, particularly around London or New York Marathon time, and I can totally appreciate that.

But this is cause is just as worthy as the more notable charities and really struggles to raise funds on a very small island with limited resources. Not only that, this isn’t just another assisted parachute jump or even a marathon, this is a ridiculously tough challenge. An average of 10 hours cycling every day for 11 consecutive days through the Alps!

I really hope that for both of these reasons you’ll take the time to help me reach my target of €2,700 knowing that it’s for a really worthwhile cause. It’s less than a month until we leave for Italy to start the challenge and I need to have hit my target by the end of July, so the clock is ticking really fast and loud now! Any and all support and donations are hugely appreciated.

You can find my online donations page here. Just click to take you straight to it. As an added incentive, all donations over €50 will be placed in a draw for an expenses paid trip for two to watch Man Utd play at Old Trafford next season! If you win, I’ll buy them off you and you get your money back :)

A big Thanks to all of those who have donated already - and don't worry you don't have to make another one! 

Andy Botha Your Knees Took A Hell Of A Beating

The inspiration for todays title....

Not unsurprisingly the view from the team physio yesterday is that my knee ligament clicking is probably down to over-use and should be rested.  In the absence of that, avoid hills and ride at a higher cadence.

But surprisingly my body feels like my own this morning, contrary to all expectation, and it rises from my bed just as instructed.  This fact alone, probably puts me in a better mood than is reasonable to expect.  The thought of a lay in tomorrow sealing the deal and I head out in high spirits.  Riding solo again today due to the various bike issues yesterday - actually quite relieved for once as it means I can do a far more gentle session without ruining anyone else's ride.

The extra hour in bed means I'm heading out at half 5 in some semblance of light and the sun isn't too far behind me.  The knees sound like I have a playing card pegged to my spokes for the first few km's but slowly warm up and calm down.

I opt for boredom, and a knee-friendly loop, over a longer, steeper route and end up doing 7 laps between the Rabat roundabout and the Hunters Bar roundabout.  Really dull but actually easy to switch off and just keep peddling.  At one stage I pass a lady (who we see every Sunday too) arms folded, standing "robustly" by her gate staring at the main road.  Re-defining the word "boredom" for me she's still there, un-moved, 2 laps and 25 minutes later.  Heaven help her husband when he finally gets home! :)

It's a pretty flat lap, but even so, I'm more than pleased that the knees held up and I managed to get to the office with 65km on the clock and an average speed of over 25kmh. 

I have to say it was one of those days when it all felt good - even the motorists were friendly and stopped to wave me in at roundabouts. Weird.  If there were traffic lights on that route I'm sure they'd all have been stuck on green for me today.  I'm just off to buy a lottery ticket now while my luck holds.

Here's todays route map and stats...

And here's my last song as I hit the car park...

Personal Jesus (Sorry, it's a live version)

Angels & Demons - The Battle For Botha's Brain

If a man cycles at 24 kilometres an hour, and stops for a total of 2 hours for breaks etc, how far will he travel in 9 1/2 hours? 181km apparently!

How dark was it this morning - so dark that when we met I could barely see the ground in front of my wheel.  Most of the lights were out and there were more cars on the road (heading home!) than there usually are an hour later.

There's something eerie and quite oppressive about riding in the pitch black - not being able to see all around you as you go - that made riding quite depressing.  Not sure if Dan could sense it too but conversation was pretty non existent as we both forced our way through the dark.

We were aiming to hit 60km before the 7am hospital meet - quite a tall order and the pace put me in an even worse mood as my aching legs tried to loosen up enough to function properly.  The wind was stronger than usual which added an extra challenge to small inclines that usually don't bother me.

After an hour I was already fearing the worst for the day - how was I going to get through 180km like this? It's not going to happen.  The voices of the demons in my head started to rationalize to me why that wouldn't be so terrible after all.  "Your knees need a rest - your body's telling you to slow down", "It's only the first week of the phase - another 100-150km after yesterday would be an ok result", "Those hills today are going to be a nightmare, just give them a miss eh?"

It was a full hour and a half before the sun decided to show itself through and start to lift the gloom, both to the weather and my mood.  Not for long though - the sun brought the heat and even though it was a beautiful morning and the chat started to flow a bit more, I still labored all the way to the hospital with those little voices wittering on every now and again about some little niggle or other. Thanks to Dan pushing the route we broke 62km in just under 2 1/2 hours - happy with that after all.

The only way I can get through rides in that frame of mind is to break them down into chunks.  Aim for the next 30 mins, aim for the next 10km, aim for the next hour, 20km etc and just keep pushing through each milestone until you can see the end in sight.

The hospital check point was long, but the atmosphere in the group was good - the early silo's are beginning to break down and you can sense a team spirit forming just in time for the main event.  Lot's of banter and my mood was lifting consdierably - maybe the nutella sandwiches helped too?

2 loops of today's route before the checkpoint - "Surely that can't be right?  They seem really short, there's no way we'll do 50-60km before the next checkpoint."  They were back again.

 

Riding with Dan and Ian we set a reasonable pace, down the first hill and over the bypass before hitting the 2km St Martins Hill climb.  8.30am and there is no wind at all and the temperature touches 25 degrees as we push into the climb with another group of riders - and hit the top.  Amazingly I'm beginning to enjoy myself and the voices recede.  Ok, so the route was longer than It looked - two loops at this pace would get us to 120km by 10am.  Excellent! - the happy voices are now in the ascendancy and I climb the burmarrad hill while they tell me that all that training is paying off.  Wait a minute, maybe that was the equally angelic voices of Alan and Liz who'd parked themselves there to offer words of encouragement?

Around we go, and taking a drink at the top of St Paul's Bypass I drop my *$#!*$# water bottle.  Seeing the others disappear down the hill I stop and walk back to get it.  Cars and bikes are all doing their best to avoid it and then who'd have thought it?  Jabba the Hutt came down the hill driving a knackered old white Mazda, saw my bottle, and swerved to drive right over it!  How do I know it was Jabba?  Well I've never seen anyone else so fat and slimy, and who else could be more evil than the biggest crime lord in the Galaxy?  Since he was visiting Earth I decided to teach him a few choice English phrases :)

The happy voices in my head used this to spur me on, Dan & Ian waited for me on St Martins Hill and we climbed. Again.  9.30am and over 30 degrees, no wind at all and the sweat was streaming into my stinging eyes.  Why didn't I wear that cap after all?  Despite the blindness the positive mindset carried on to the checkpoint - just shy of 120km before 10am and the good guys are telling me there's no way I won't do 180km today.  I believe them.

A quick chat with the team doctor and physio while we break and we're off again.  We've collected Lee and Evan to join our merry band and we set off for Freeport.  The pace is strong, we're all going well, and then at Hunters Bar, disaster!  Another volley of choice phrases as I realise I did't re-start my GPS when we left the check-point so I haven't recorded the last 25 minutes and 9.x km.  Gutted - to get round and not have the visible proof is to lose one of the things that keeps me going!!

The voices tell me to focus and I reconcile myself to the fact that knowing I did it will just have to do this time.  The Demons know that was their last shot and retreat from my brain, to come up with plan B.

Both Dan and Evan have wheel trouble when their spokes decide to make a jump for it.  Evan first, and we lose him near Marsa and then Dan's on the airport road.  We stop for water and to assess the damage before heading on - the final 20km to go.

The team peel off one by one and I am left alone for the final 6km.  I reach the turn for Mosta and my route home.  I know that its 4km up that hill, and that I need to do another 6km to reach my goal.  "178km isn't bad is it, surely that'll do?" I hear someone ask.  No chance - and I carry on up the slope towards the jesuit roundabout and back to make sure I get the extra 2km in.

Finally, turning up the hill towards home I realise where the Devils have gone.  Its nearly 2pm and the temperature is approaching 40 degrees (No doubt they had a word with their boss to help out with that one) and there is no air to breathe.  Heading towards Naxxar an army of them are hanging on to my legs like lead weights, to stop me reaching the top of the hill.  They didn't.

181km down.  Who'd have thought it?  What a roller-coaster of a day mentally and physically.  No energy left to celebrate, or even talk to be honest.  Recovered enough by 7pm to go out for a well earned curry in the evening, and even managed to stay awake!

 

Ride 14 - Sunday 18th July 181km Stats and Map

Last song? A classic....

Hootie & The Blowfish - Hold My Hand

Day 90 - Malta Didn't Seem That Small To Me Today

The one down side to having a day off - it's that much harder to get up the next day!  Luckily it was a bit of a later start than usual today as it's the weekend.  During the week the pressure is always on to get up because you know you have to get to work by a certain time.  At the weekend you can relax a bit and know the only clock ticking is the one that gets you home sooner, so you can actually try and enjoy what's left of the day.

So, up for a 6am meeting with Evan - it may not be quite as dark as usual, but unbelievably humid already - it's so sticky that you can't move without feeling weary even at this early hour.  There's not even the usual respite of the breeze once on the bike - it's like someone has turned the dial up overnight.

To try and break the monotony, we go for a Tour of Malta - a short wait while we see if another of the team will show.  Nope.  It's a great way to avoid seeing the same stuff over and over, but it did mean a few more big hills than I'd have liked before a big ride tomorrow.  

Climbing Manikata hill (mountain) I was sure my heart rate was going to exceed 100% of maximum and leap screaming out of my chest before running back down the hill as far away from me as it could get!  You've all seen Alien right?

We hit 70km by the time we reached Mellieha - you know it's been an early start when you can't find anywhere open for breakfast after 3 hours cycling!  Eventually we found someone prepared to feed us - machine coffee and yesterdays ham and processed cheese baguette - a feast fit for a king!  But the water was cold and oh, so good.  

One question - "Which bl**dy fool picked the bottom of a really steep hill to stop for breakfast???" Oh yes, me.  Note to self - big hill climbs aren't the best way to re-start after a 30 minute break!

By the time we complete the lap we're on 95km - very conscious that the temperature is already pushing towards 40 in the sun, and we have a big day tomorrow I call time and head back home and we've done 102km instead of 120km.  I'll take that thanks.

Stretch, rehydrate, rehydrate, rehydrate and fall in pool.  11.30 am and the day can finally begin :) 

Day 90 - Saturday Ride 100km by andybotha at Garmin Connect - Details

And that final iPod song? 


21 Guns by Green Day - fabulous

“Dear BBC, Why, Oh Why, Oh Why?”

Get IN!! A late night text from Sergeant Major Curry to say that the fitness test equipment is broken so I can’t meet him at 6am to see how (un) fit I am now. NINE hours of sleep last night and I feel like a new man and with an un-planned whole day of rest before I get back on the bike. What a rare treat! :)

It seems to me, now, that the biggest part of the challenge is not the actual 11 day ride itself, but the effort that goes into preparing for it. Not that I knew that when I signed up for it. And not to say I won’t have a different view once I am actually on the ride! To be clear, in this final phase, we are talking about at least 30 hours a week of cycling. So, allowing for a 40 hour a week job (if only :)!!) and 7 hours sleep (hhmmm :)!!) that leaves a whole 49 hours to do everything else, including preparation for the cycling, working at home and getting ready for bed. Not a lot really is it? Maybe Claire has been a bit neglected after all and I’ll have a lot to make up for (but don’t tell her I said that).

So, let’s step back a bit and take a look at what’s going on here. Why exactly am I putting myself through so much effort and physical pain? What would cause someone of sound mind and judgement to knowingly put themselves through so many hours of monotonous exercise, the lack of social life and such a huge burden on normal family life?

Well, obviously there is the very laudable desire to support the charity and to raise as much money as possible for an incredibly worthwhile cause. But I don’t have any direct experience of a family member with renal issues so I have no real connection there. Although some will have friends and families who have benefitted from the work of the team in the renal unit I am sure this is true for most of the riders taking part too.

Betfair are the title sponsor and we actively look to support the local community but that doesn’t really compel me to do many things, let alone crazy ones like this.

So, I think that for me, and many of the riders, the driver has to largely be the personal challenge involved in completing the training and the ride. I’d be interested in what other riders think about this. It’s about setting yourself a really big goal, way beyond anything you have ever done before, something that will really test you physically, psychologically and emotionally. It’s a mixture of a team event and a personal one, so it’s about working with everyone to complete something special that very few people can say they have done. It’s probably also something through which I can hopefully learn a bit about myself in the process.

That’s all well and good for when you sign up for something like this, and it may motivate you a little when you are actually in that final 11-day stretch. But what is it that makes me keep going day after day, no matter the weather, the physical condition, the workload, the family pressure during the 16 weeks in between? I once met a truly inspirational chap called Marc Woods – a County standard swimmer - he had his leg amputated due to cancer at the age of 17 but within a year of his operation he was swimming faster with one leg than he had previously with two!

He talks and writes about what drove him to perform with great passion. One of the things that stuck in my mind is that it is on the cold, wet training days many months away from the Olympic trials or finals that you need to find a reason within yourself to get up and head to the pool. Actually, you need more than one reason because there will be days when one isn’t enough. Just one will let you hit the snooze button, or say “just one day off won’t hurt.” You need at least three.

Those words have always struck a chord with me because when I was younger I often found myself coming up with comments like that. Combine that with my need for short term visible targets and I needed a change. So now I always have a list of at least Three Reasons Why that I can turn to when I am preparing for anything. For LifeCycle they are:

1. If I do the training as laid out then I will be giving myself as much chance as possible of completing the challenge. (Or at least, not completing it is less likely to be because I didn’t give it everything I could have)

2. I’ve made a commitment and a public statement as to what I am doing – to fail in front of my children, family, friends and team-mates would be terrible

3. I have a training partner waiting for me down the road that did bother, so why shouldn’t I? (and when I’m training alone, I know I have to train so I can ride with them the next time without slowing them down)

These are the things that I think about when I wake up. I start with number 1 and sometimes it works. If not, I move down to number 2 to shift my sorry body out of bed. If that fails, then there’s old faithful, number 3. So far I haven’t needed a fourth, but we have a few weeks left yet so I’ll keep you posted!

Oh, and no ride today so no final iPod song.  BUT how we could we let the news that Robbie has re-joined Take That go un-noticed?  Click here for a trip to the Oh So Tasteful 90's!

Relight My Fire - Take That