United Road, Take Me Home

It's here!  4am and the alarms start to go off.  Despite it being the final day, there's no mad rush to get up.  All around you can see people laying down and slowly coming round.  But not like you do at home.  They're not laying there steeling themselves for the day like a normal person.  They are pretty much all laying there flexing and stretching various leg muscles to see if they still work at all.  Slowly they rise, like arthritic cats, and start going about their days.

It's dark out, and the idea of properly preparing the bikes after yesterday is a non starter.  A bit of a wipe of the chain and some new oil.  Lenny would be horrified but I bet he's no different.  Surely only Marcel is the only one with the time/inclination to have done that yesterday??

It's not raining.  It's cold, but no surprise there - it's the middle of the night!  Only 140km to go - shold be fine.  Lee soon dampens that idea.  Have you seen the route card?  No, I haven't.  Didn't even think to look to be honest.  Big mistake.  Huge.  There are climbs. Some big ones, and it sounds like this easy 140km could be tougher than I thought.  Hasn't Soner watched the Tour De France?? Doesn;t he know the final day is supposed to be a bit of a procession rather than a tough day of competition??

Alan gives a final team talk and Jenny, a final prayer.  We're off and for the last time we head out as a group.  Dan and I are near the back with Lewis and Liz. 

I'm on the bike and peddling but I don't feel up for this at all.  Watching everyone fly past us would usually not bother me, but today I don't like it at all.  As we leave Loughborough the climbs start, and we're moving slowly.  The villages are nice, but in the shadow it's cold, so no time to waste as we move from one to the next.

We've lost Liz but picked up Evan (who has the same bike as me, and has had the worst luck this week.  This time his seat post needed surgery slowing him considerably and taking him away from his rightful place in the front group).  We ride for over 2 hours, at a painfully slow pace over the hills, to the first checkpoint at 45km.  None of us are really enjoying the ride - it's far tougher than we had expected.

My mood is not good, and I'm sure Dan and Evan are feeling similar.  We know that Sir Alex has to get away by 2.30pm and at this rate we won;t be there by midnight!!!  Many of the riders seem in great mood as they leave the stop - just as we pull in. I think they are appreciating the scenery far more than I am, and also the fact it's not raining at least!  Clearly they aren't worried about not seeing the Great Man.  But looks can be deceptive so who knows whats really going on behind those smiles??

Another 2 hour plus session to the next checkpoint at 84km.  We quickly adopt snails pace again as every turn in the road unveils yet another climb.  The Peak District is clearly mis-named.  Surely the word peak implies ups and downs - they even have the phrase "up hill and down dale".  All I have ridden are up hills.  Certainly no down dales that I remember. Dan sums up the general mood : "I've had enough of this."

My legs are running on empty with this constant demand to push up hills.  The weather and the scenery is great, but I can tell you that the way to appreciate it to the full is from the comfort of a car, with a warm coffee as you drive along!  I have no ability or interest in the scenery.  I have cycled almost 2,000km and I begin to wonder, if the next 75km are like this, whether I will make it.  Will I fall at the final hurdle?

Sir Alex would not be proud of me.  For me, yesterday was clearly the ride I'd psyched myself up for.  It was the big game.  The LifeCycle equivalent of a semi final tie against Chelsea.  It was headlined to be the game of the decade.  I prepared for it like a pro and won a hard fought contest 3-2 after a thrilling and gruelling extra time, played out in terrible conditions.  I was overjoyed that i'd come through.

Today, a simple fixture against a non league Eastbourne Borough who'd made it through against all odds.  I'd failed to prepare for what I thought would be a "walk in the park". 

Well by half time, and checkpoint 2, Eastbourne Borough was whipping my sorry backside by at least 3 clear goals.  They were up for the game, and were there to win.  I wasn't even in the contest and needed to raise my game.  Sadly I couldn't see where it was coming from.

Before he headed off Nick C told me there was just one more "big" climb.  A nightmare of a 15% climb over 2km coming out of Buxton.  Joy.   Dan's mate Will had come to see us, and brought coffee.  To be fair the stop was at a beautiful spot and I did take the time to enjoy what was around me.  The Maltese guys were loving it and some of the attitude started to rub off on me.

The 3 amigos soldiered on.  Cliff joined us again.  More climbs.  More pain.  Dan : "I've REALLY had enough of this now."  But I tried to enjoy the ride and got the camera out to take some photos - make the most of the almost standstill climbs!  We reached Buxton and came out the other side.

The aptly titled "Long Hill" lay ahead of us.  It rose, out of the town ahead of us, like a final test from Sgt Major Curry and his wing man, Soner.  Nothing to do but tackle it like everything else.  Up we went, wondering what was on the other side.  Long does not cover it.  Hill does not do it justice.  They should have called it something like Massive Mountain instead.

Still, we made it and came out on to the open countryside again.  At 99km we stopped to celebrate the passing of 2,000km and to take a photo.  The scenery was truly amazing - way more beautiful that I'd ever expected.  I'd definitely come back, as long as I had that car and coffee.  And we could see a downhill in front of us.  The combination of 2,000km, the view, and that downhill made me feel far more positive about life, even if I was worried there were more climbs to come.

That downhill lasted 5 glorious km.  It was one of the most enjoyable parts of the ride.  Head up, soaking it all in, loving the sweeping bends and the views all around.  We came out at Whaley Bridge and saw a sign for Stockport and Manchester.  I can't tell you how my heart lifted at that point.  No doubt at all in my mind that I was going to make it. We were going to make it.  Claire was there waiting for me.

We turned left on to the Stockport Road - 20km to go to the firestation where we will be meeting up before we head to Old Trafford as one group.  A growing dawning realisation that we'd done it.  I'd pulled 4 goals back against Eastbourne Borough in that last 20km since the checkpoint and they were beaten.  They were now the ones with nothing left.  Neither the day nor LifeCycle 2010 were going to beat me now.

We raced along the road to Stockport, eager to reach the end.  Eager to make the time with a chance of meeting Sir Alex. Renewed energy on the relatively flat roads and with the wind seemingly (but not really) on our backs.

We had an "unofficial" end point at the fire station where we were all to meet and gather together to make the final escorted 20km ride from there through Manchester, as one team, to the Theatre of Dreams and the end of the Challenge.

We reached Stockport centre.  I have to tell you one thing: I have spent 11 days pretty much arriving at every checkpoint to see John Cassar and Pierre Spiteri relaxing there.  I leave before them, and it's not long before they breeze past me with a cheery hello as they speed past at a rate and ease I can only dream of.  Well today we saw them in the near distance as we bore down on them.  Maybe it's because we are more used to inner city riding, maybe they were just enjoying the ride.  Either way one of my lasting memories of the event will be breezing past them with a cheery hello as we headed out of Stockport :)

Weaving through the traffic snarled up traffic, creating bike lanes where none existed is something Dan and I have become very good at and we were quickly through the centre.  A short climb out of Stockport past the bus terminal, and the lactic acid in our legs almost stops us all dead, but we're up and out with no disasters.  Around a few more corners, following those luminous yellow lifecycle signs as if our lives depended on them and we'd arrived at the fire station where we were to re-assemble as a group for the final escorted ride  through Manchester City Centre, as one whole team, for the final 20km to the Theatre of Dreams.

We'd ridden over 2,000km in all weathers and reached the end of the distance, but not quite the Challenge (yet).  As we came through the gates it took a few minutes to realise what we'd done, looking around in a bit of a daze, wondering what to do now.  If in doubt... eat. 

Smiles all round as we all took in what we had done.  But we still had to be at the ground for 2pm to be able to meet Sir Alex and all of our families and friends, and the clock was running down.  Slowly the riders assembled, and with only a few missing, stuck in traffic, we set off en masse for the ground.

An enjoyable slow ride, left past Picadilly station and straight up, we could see the ground in the distance.  A last right turn into Sir Matt Busby Way and we were there.  The speed increased as we rode to the ground, and we arrived just after 2pm to great cheers and applause from our families, friends, and the back up crews as we pulled in.

The next hour passed in a blur - Seeing Claire, getting off the bike for that first hug and kiss after two long weeks.  And then photos, smiles, hugs, handshakes and congratulations all round.  Claire had brought that long awaited Champagne and the cork was out of the bottle for the first taste.  :)  Worth the wait

The last cyclists arrived with perfect timing just as Sir Alex came out.  I managed a quick hello, a few words and my shirt signed before he was mobbed by a crowd of yellow shirts.  He posed for photos with us, spoke to the team and the cameras and was whisked away by his security team, leaving us to continue the celebrations.

Eventually it was time to leave, and the teams all headed across to the car park and then set off for their accomodation for the night.  Me?  I grabbed my suitcase and bags from the van, left my bike with Patrick and headed for the Premier Inn across the road :)

Lenny Henry is right - you can't beat the Premier Inn let me tell you!  Luxury.  No rushing around trying to find a place to put your bed - they already have them!!  And oh my, does it look comfy after 2 weeks on an  allegedly self inflating air bed.  No trying to figure where to sleep - Claire always wants me to sleep door side.  No queue for the shower (not today anyway, but am sure that will be different tomorrow!) - it's hot, and I can shut the bathroom door or leave it open.  It's my choice and either way, there are not 60 other people milling about.  The sink is not full of other peoples dirty clothes, and I don't have to rush to wash mine so they're dry for tomorrow.  And do you know what else?  Plug sockets everywhere!

It's so peaceful and quiet after 2 weeks of post-ride chaos that I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.  After an amazingly long, wonderfully hot shower I can change into normal clothes and just walk away with nothing to do.  We head off to town for coffee and a long long chat.  There's plenty to catch up on.

So I guess that's almost the end of the story.  I think I'll take a day or so and then post one final blog when I've got used to not riding all day every day, so I hope you stay tuned.  Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing.