The End Of The (United) Road

The Complete Route Map & Pictures

It’s now a week after the event finished and having started the adventure heading to Rome three weeks ago, it seems appropriate to be writing this as I head back there, for a week in Tuscany, before turning full circle and heading back to Malta.

Looking back it’s hard to imagine what we have achieved. We cycled 2,050km on a mountain bike from Venice to Manchester over twelve days, traversing eight countries in the process. 43 riders started the challenge and two, sadly, had to drop out due to injury. So, an incredible 41 riders saw the event through. Both Alan and some of the riders with “previous LifeCycle form” will tell you that this was one of the hardest yet, making it all the more impressive.

The team are likely to hit the target of raising a phenomenal €200,000 this year for the renal unit and Team Betfair also reached its own fund raising target. Thanks to the generosity of all of my friends and family, together with corporate sponsorships I was able to raise just over €13,000 – A big “Thank You!” to everyone who supported me.

Personally, as well as clocking just over 2,050km I spent 94 hours riding and took around 105 hours to complete the challenge (Official times to be confirmed at the Welcome Home Dinner). In contrast, I slept only 76 hours, averaging 6 hours a night! I burned 74,500 calories and turned my pedals around 450,000 times. . At a guess, I’d say I also ate around 5 jars of Nutella.

I can honestly say it was one of the most amazing things that I’ve ever done. The commitment to prepare for such an event, followed by twelve of the toughest consecutive days I could imagine, pushing myself beyond anything I’d ever done before. I didn’t really believe that our training would prepare us to ride an average of 180km a day consecutively when we’d never done two days in a row before, but somehow it did. Every day those legs kept moving completely against all logic.

It was a real test of character in many ways, not only dealing with the physical challenge, but also being in that situation with a team of relative strangers, all having to deal with less than perfect living conditions on top of everything else. Amazingly, that was never an issue for anyone.  Looking back, the pride that I managed to complete it is almost as strong as the relief I felt once I realised it was over, and that I’d made it!

When you tell people that you’ve ridden from Venice to Manchester, it’s so difficult for them to visualise the length of the journey by bicycle that you can physically see the lack of understanding cloud their faces. I mean, most people will know how long it takes to get from London to Brighton (or St Julians to Sliema) by car, and will realise that travelling by bike must take a bit longer, but beyond that simple acknowledgement, there is no real frame of reference for people to hang an informed response on.

The most common “Really, that must have taken a while, were you tired?” response could get you down if you let it – but you accept it takes a good deal of internal calculation to compute what you’ve just said, which time doesn’t allow for as part of a cursory “How’s it going?” chat. If it was that easy to appreciate, it would probably mean that it hadn’t been that tough after all wouldn’t it?

So, the few people that can truly appreciate what just happened are the team themselves, riders from previous years, the families who have suffered with us all the way through and the few cyclists who know how tough a full day in the saddle can be, let alone 12 consecutive days.

So, how do I feel now?

Well, physically I feel pretty good actually. I could have quite happily got back on the bike on Saturday morning without any problem at all. My legs were in good shape and, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know, so was my backside which seemed to improve as the two weeks wore on.

If anything, the lack of strenuous exercise since has caused more problems with aching joints, and a serious number of night time cramps in my calves and hamstrings than the ride did – I’m guessing from a lack of circulation now I’ve stopped.

Mentally, the weekend relaxation and watching United was a great way to take my mind off everything that had gone before, and diving straight back in to work has made sure I’ve hardly thought about it since until now. My mind though, is less keen to forget, and I have dreamt LifeCycle and LifeCyclists every night since – God, I hope that doesn’t last long!

I’ve now got a week off with Claire in Tuscany where I can forget about work and LifeCycle and just totally relax and let my body recover. No doubt that will also include putting on a few of those missing kilos. On the ride I was determined not to lose any more weight during the event and gave almost as much attention to eating like a horse as I did to the ride itself. I thought I’d done ok, but Claire quickly showed me the error in my thinking and the truth is I probably lost another 5 or 6 kilos over the two weeks. So I can now look to enjoy all that Tuscany has to offer and, with my upper body seriously emaciated, will no doubt look like a Weeble or Baba Papa in a weeks time!

It’s difficult to pick out the highlights of an event like this because there were so many each and every day.

But I loved the first two days riding on the route alongside the Italian lakes. The novelty of what we were doing, actually getting the show on the road, the lack of pressure to be somewhere else for once, combined with the fabulous weather and scenery will be hard to forget.

The fantastic team spirit was also a treat for me because I wasn’t expecting it to be that good. I expected small teams to stay small throughout the two weeks and thought that the pressure and stress may cause all sorts of problems, but that didn’t happen at all. Instead everyone seemed to pull together more as the days went on, and some great friendships were formed. Each day’s end brought some really entertaining and enjoyable evenings laughing at the day just gone.

Purely because of the uphill challenge it presented, and because of the amazing descent that followed, I’d have to pick St Gotthards in the Alps too – without doubt the single most physically challenging single thing I’ve done. The exhaustion and the satisfaction when I reached the top were competing for strongest emotion, and even now I wonder just how I managed to get to the top of that ridiculous climb. No picture I’ve seen of the Pass has yet done it justice.

And finally, the easiest pick of the bunch would be that final stage of the Challenge – the ride along Sir Matt Busby Way and reaching Old Trafford to celebrate the end with everyone. The personal feelings of joy, relief and satisfaction at knowing I’d done it, and in seeing Claire again, mixed happily with the jubilation all the riders shared at finally achieving our goal. It’s an abiding memory that will undoubtedly stay with me for a long time to come.

As for the lows, I’m lucky that there weren’t that many for me. No real injuries beyond expected aches and pains and a bit of saddle sores. No real bike issues that fellow rider Evan wasn’t able to fix for me either. Just those odd days when the wind was so strong that no one in their right mind could enjoy being outside at all, let alone be cycling in it for 12 hours! And even then, it wasn’t the whole day – so I’d pinpoint the section in Belgium that preceded Team-Talk-Gate (See blog "Wet" for details) as the least enjoyable 20km of the whole ride.

But that would fall into second place behind the end of the first day in the UK - waiting at the road side in Dartford in the freezing cold for a lift to the accommodation, and getting so so cold is something that I hope I never have to repeat. So, not bad really all things considered.

The whole ride already seems more like a dream than a reality and my mind is already blocking out the difficulty, leaving me with the ability to express how much I “enjoyed” it, and thinking that I wouldn’t immediately write off doing it again, as long as the route was a good one!

It seems that I’ve already forgotten that the commitment and challenge of the training and preparation was almost more demanding than the event itself and how many times I said “Never again” during those final weeks.

I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all the support I had from my family who put up with an increasingly obsessed non-existent husband/dad for over four months. Without their support, encouragement and acceptance of what it meant to our family I could never have done it.

I’d also like to thank a few other people while I’m at it. Firstly Alan, and the rest of the Committee, for their tireless efforts in putting the event together. Believe it or not, they met the week after last year’s event to start planning the ride and I believe they met again last week to start preparing for next year’s - incredible!

Second I’d like to thank the back-up teams, who got us across Europe, for their amazing support and encouragement during the event. Without a doubt we couldn’t have done the ride without them – the combination of experience from previous years combined with the enthusiasm of new team members to make this year’s event support brilliant for the riders.

So, other than next year’s “really good” LifeCycle route, and being a better husband and father for a while, what’s next for me? Well, that conversation started even before the Challenge was finished, and has carried on since. I think most of us have really enjoyed the experience of cycling and would love to carry it on, albeit in a slightly less extreme manner.

I’ll definitely be looking to get hold of a road bike so any distance should become a little easier to tackle. I’d like to have a go at the London to Paris ride next Summer, and have been checking out the Etape Du Tour – a stage from the Tour De France that is opened up to the public once a year. Surely a single 200km day will be a walk in the park after this?? There’s already a good long list of Betfair riders interested and, who knows, maybe some of this year’s other LifeCycle riders will give it a go too.

But for now, I think I’ll just kick back, safe in the knowledge that I did it, and keep remembering all the good times on what has been an amazing adventure while I enjoy all the coffee, gelateria, wine and pasta that I can manage!

Thanks for reading!

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.

Extreme

It's our longest, most long anticipated, and most feared day today.  The one that caught all our attention in Malta during the pre-trip briefing way back in June.

We have a 5am wake up call, so we can be on the road for 7am and break the back of this beast without getting home around midnight! I was more tired than I realised last night after that cold end to the day and managed to sleep all the way through with no distraction.  That's no mean feat when you know what went on around you with 9 other people getting ready for bed, snoring etc, and getting up in the night.  For the first time it passed me all by - my tiredness protected me from worst the sardine style sleeping arrangements could throw at me, which was a real relief as it could have been horrendous.  Maybe it was, but what you don't know won't hurt you!! :)

The morning definitely came too soon. It dark and cold outside. The individual style accomodation (over a hall) made everyóne slower to get ready too. It was gone 7am and my frustration grew the longer we waited for everyone when we weren't all ready. By quarter pas I was about to explode, and we ended going in staggered groups rather than wait for the whole team to be ready.

Dan, Nick, Chris and I formed a group and left with those that were ready.

It was cloudy and spitting with rain.  I think, after yesterday, we'd all have traded our souls for this to hold out for the next 12 hours. We made pretty good time through the essex countryside and made the first checkpoint in 2 hrs - a nice village. We had a nice chat with the oaps in the bus stop, sheltering from rain that ad just started.  Clearly no one was listening the offer of our souls.

A quick Richard Bloch sponsored coffee and flapjack break, and we're off again feeling ok with the warmth of the coffee and the uncontained joy of sticky flapjack over a nutella sandwich. It's a short stop to try and beat the rain - futile when you look in hindsight at a 10 hour journey.  A few minutes won't save anything really, but it felt right at the time. 

The rain and the wind pick up, and by checkpoint 2 we're soaked and covered in dirt from the roads. Dans mudguard looks great but serves no function to those behind him as it's too high. Nick doesn't have one. Nor Chris. So, no matter who draft behind it's like getting hosed with dirty water constantly as the spray from their rear wheels covers me and my glasses.

So, that's 4 hours and 85km. Just another 7 hours and 165km!! Today we covered Essex, Hertfordshire Cambridgeshire, Northants, Leicester, Rutland and Leicester again. Crazy!  I used to drive from Dartford to Thrapston to pick up my kids. That was 2 hours in a car and considered by all concerned to be a long drive. I can't believe I rode it today! And then carried on to Loughborough!   Without doubt the most extreme thing I have ever done, and also most of my fellow riders too.  But not just because of the distance.

So, apart from the extreme distance, how was it?  At no point did we think we wouldn't get there. It was just a case of when and in what condition.

Extremely wet. There's only so wet you can get. Once you are, it doesn't get any worse. That took about 20 minutes. If it hadn't been for the extreme cold that followed it would have been ok to be honest - I think playing football in the UK for all those years conditioned me nicely for the wet.

Extreme winds. Gusting in our faces all the way except for the final 10km when we started to head south before looping back north again. The wind takes so much energy out of you that is a total waste, and it's been a constant factor this trip.  Today was as strong as any we'd had.

Extremely cold. My toes were frozen inside blocks of ice after the first hour. 10 hours of my toes, like the sword on the stone, encased in ice in my shoes was so uncomfortale, it only got better when they were so numb that I lost all feeling!

My knees were so cold that every stop, no matter how short, took half an hour to recover from. Its was like having an ice stake driven into my left knee with every pedal stroke. It sounds a bit over the top, but the your body temperature drops so quickly in these conditions that your legs stiffen and any injury takes an age to get going again.

Extremely hilly. There were so many ups and downs it was ridiculous. Nothing mountainous and you may be forguven of accusing me of being a bit soft after what we have done. But they were long enough to cause distress, especially in view of the conditions. There wasn't even any joy on the downhills because the faster you went the colder you got.

Extreme roads. The lorries heading north show no mercy to anyone. The buffeting and shower from each one would have been fun if it wasn't for the danger that it involved.  It took a lot to stay focussed wondering just what was sneaking up behind you. 

Extreme concentration. With such tough conditions you focus. Totally. On what's in front of you. Just the square metre from your handlebar to the wheel in front, and a small way either side. Don't move your head. It takes energy and gets you wetter. With so much spray on my glasses its also all slightly out of focus, which is nice.

Extreme emotion. The beauty of lifecycle is that its done in foreign parts where you can immerse yourself in it with no distraction. Speaking to family in the evening is good but you can still detach and not miss anyone too much. I've been fine all week but today was tough. I knew I was riding near the kids house, but wasn't ready to cycle through their village and a stones throw from their house. Past the pub I took them for dinner when I told them I was leaving to move to Malta for a few years. The familiarity of the surroundings, probably heightened by the tiredness and conditions (it must be that because I ususally have a heart of stone!!) caught me way off guard. It suddenly hit home just how much I missed my family and wanted to see them all righ now, and there was a serious danger that the inside of my glasses would be wetter than the outside.

I cycled hard until we were the other side of Corby and away from anything that would remind me of home - not sure what the others thought about Botha's sudden blinding turn of pace, but I just needed to get away.

You really go through all the emotions all day - but at least on the bike you can also release them.  You can sprint off should you just need to get rid of some new found adrenaline.  You can find the whole thing frustrating, it may send you in to a rage, it may be unfair.  In any of these cases it's great to just be able to be in a place where you can yell at the top of your voice and let all of the emotion out as you ride along.  On the road, no one can hear you scream!

Extreme annoyance. Some more conceptualisation to get you through the day. I can't believe xxx did xxx!! etc.  Here's an example of the best kind.

At checkpoint 4 we had done 175km and had just passed my daughters village, and used roads that added 5 superflous km to the route to get us here.  We were told that we'd be skipping the last planned one as it was only 55km more to go, and not the 80km we were expecting. Result! Are you sure Alan? Yes BUT, and here comes the ultimate caveat.... But if its wrong, don't blame me, blame soner, its his text!!  We took the good news as an offering from Lance, the Bike God but in reality should have known better.  Listened to those voices telling us there's no such thing as a free lunch.

The four of us were still together, and had picked up Cliff along the way too.  We covered 40km in awful conditions, like drowned rats, and were all just sensing the worst was over.  We were in Melton and had only 5km more to go.

We see Eric who has set up an emergency checkpoint. Apparently Alans just told him we have another 45km to go! What??? Another 2 1/2 hours? That can't be!! Surely? Can it? Fair to say you shouldn't shoot messengers but it was close!  We were all so taken aback our moods went through the floor and we did the whole cycle of emotions from shock, anger and denial to acceptance in about 30 seconds.  And then went round again for good measure.  Eric received "feedback" from us in each of those states of mind - God knows what he thought he was talking to - a bunch of schizophrenic lunatics probably!

Anyway, it turns out it was only 25km left, and was actually the originally planned distance. SO, not the 5km we had psyched ourselves up for but far better to only add an extra hour than 45km and 2 1/2 more. It was hard to drag ourselves on I have to say.

So, finally, after 11 hours we made it to the Loughborough stop.  5 of us soaked through and worn out but immensely proud that we'd made it in such good time.  The hard work was done.  The big one was beaten.  We only had one more day left and we were there.  For me I was as good as home, nothing was going to be as hard as 240km in those condition was it?  If I can ride that, I can ride anything.

 

We were told to sleep anywhere we could find.  All the "best" (relative) spaces were gone, so we set up shop on the first floor landing.  As with houses, it's all about "location, location, location" when talking about the sleeping accomodation on LifeCycle.  As it turns out we got a prime spot.  It had plug sockets galore, and was close to the toilets for those mid-night wake up calls of nature that keeping hydrated brings.  It even had a radiator.  That worked!!  How could anyone have missed this prime piece of real estate?  We snapped it up and built 4 homes on it in record time.  If there was only one requirement for my sleeping arrangements it would be a plug socket - amazing just how refined you can make your needs when you have to.  The rest is a nice to have.

 

So, in by 7.30pm and ready for bed by 11pm.  One more small ride and all I can think about as I turn out the light is seeing Claire tomorrow.  4am wake up call - great, it means that moment comes sooner rather than later.

 

Day 10 : Nick Cassidy & The Raindance Kids

We're leaving Dunkerque today and it’s an early start. We have to be up for a Police convoy to the port for 7.45am. Not sure why when the ferry isn’t until 10am but who am I to question. I can tell you it’s cold. Even colder when we get to the port and stand around for more than an hour before we can board!

Finally on board and we have 2hrs downtime in the warm – last night sblog is done and posted, along with Chris’s.

It’s great to see England – I haven’t been there since Easter, and it’s a long time to not see friends and family. Even better to be back on UK soil and all the familiarity that brings. It’s also brings the end of the challenge a big step closer. All in all, a positive start to the day.

It’s a typically grey day, but warm when we start off. Dan, Steve, Nick and I ride as a group. We’re joined by Ian and Liz to start with. The ride is very Up and Down with many steep short (and not so short) climbs. So, frustratingly, it’s a very slow pace through the lanes of the Kent country side. Pretty, but frustratingly slow.

We hit checkpoint 1 just as rain starts and set off again as it really kicks in at 2pm.

It’s really wet now, and we are all soaked, the roads are slick and busy in the towns. The four of us kicked on, spurred on by super Nick and his speed machine. He was in overdrive and he/we left villages and towns in our wake. Cars struggled to keep up with the pace he set. We certainly did!

We passed a good number of tired wet bedraggled lifecyclists who had been way in front of us. As I said, we were totally soaked through, but loving the afternoon ride. It was hard work – my lungs were bursting, my legs exploding, and my hamstrings auditioning for an orchestra they were so tight. That said it was great, with Nick showing no mercy and Dan, Chris and I trying to keep up. The pace meant we will be home sooner rather than later, which can’t be bad in this weather.

We hit checkpoint 2, cooling down, so just take food on board and we’re off again. It’s a cold start and we struggle to keep up with Nick, but get going eventually. We pass a few more lifecyclists – the Maltese are feeling the cold more than most. With 15km to go we hit a new checkpoint. Traffic is gridlocked on roads due to the weather so it’s been brought forward. A welcome surprise!

We’re off our bikes and have to wait for the vans to pick us, and our bikes, up to take us to the accommodation. We wait at least 30 minutes and are totally frozen by the time we got in the car. We were lucky and were in early enough to get in the first one. We warmed up and then got cold again when we arrived at the campsite. Everyone is shivering with cold, chilled to the bone by being out in the cold in their wet clothes. Not pretty.

We’re staying at a campsite, looking straight out of a Friday 13th movie – it would have been great it the weather had been better. Sadly it wasn’t. We’re in cabins, 10 per cabin. Because it’s hammering down with rain the grass has quickly turned to mud. It’s a fair walk to the showers (which are from the 60's). It’s cramped in the cabins and also very claustrophobic.

The later arrivals are in an even worse state than we were - severe cases of cold, and one or two close to hypothermia, unable to stop shivering and looking a lot more blue than you would reasonably expect!

The mood in the camp is low. No one is looking forward to tomorrow, especially if it’s going to be raining again.

I’m also so tired by the time we are done eating that I don’t have the energy to write and post the blog. Who knows there maybe time tomorrow – several riders are saying they can't even take seriously the idea of riding tomorrow if the weather is as bad.

As I turn out the light I’m feeling tired, but the shower and food have warmed me through and I’m ready for what will be a long day in the saddle, but which will also mean we almost home and dry(!!) when it’s over. No time to quit now, especially because of the weather.

I know I’m now a day out of sync, but it’s a 4am wakeup call tomorrow so you will just have to wait to hear about just how bad today was because I can’t write a second day now, sorry.

Day 9 : The Longest Day

To pick up from Chris – I’m on the ferry now so have some time. I can’t not write for a day as I have no doubt I won’t write again if I stop now.

As he said, today was a ridiculously long day, starting an hour early and on a bitterly fresh cold morning. I rode with Dan, Steve C, Lenny and also 6 or so other riders in an attempt to master the drafting thing and see how easy we could make 12 hours in a saddle. It didn’t start that well – the group split early, but four of us picked up a few other riders throughout day and were generally at between 6 and 9.

Lifecycle is a really interesting insight into the impact of endurance and fatigue on the human body. Obviously the whole event, but also each day, as the event goes on.

Today is an example of that. Very few of us have ever gone that distance. Yet, despite the injuries, the high winds, and 8 previous days of hard effort everyone completed the ride and made it home. Amazing.

You can see the impact of the lack of sleep and exertion on everyone. The injuries are the obvious sign but also the zombie-like movement that everyone has adopted around the halls.

When we're on the bikes you may still be able to see evidence of an injury, although only the strapping gives it away. But you will have no clue that anyone is struggling mentally with the ride.

The event itself is fascinating too. Not much happens during a day, or even from one day to the next. It's all very repetitive. Same thing, different day, and different place - you just pedal until you get where someone tells you to go.

But such a lot happens to you mentally and physically in that time it's frightening. It’s like dog years - 1 lifecycle day is like a week on your body in real time.

Along with quite a few others I think I am now generally running on empty. No matter what I eat, I am completely run down. The impact of this is like sleep deprivation combined with oxygen deprivation.

After 30km it hits me again. My knees start to weaken, and are shaky. My eyes struggle to focus and it’s as if I’m either going to fall asleep or pass out at any minute (dramatic!). It’s probably not that but it’s really unsettling when you’re riding a bike.  Even though only just had breakfast I’m straight into an energy bar, not unnoticed by Dan. 

The idea of riding in a draft is to stay close to the wheel in front, as Chris described. Tricky if you think you will clip it, and cause an accident. So, it takes a huge amount of focus to not move too far away from the front rider, and then need to exert energy to catch up, or to get too close and end up clipping their wheel. The safest place is in front, but it costs energy and defeats the idea of a draft.

We made it to checkpoint 1 and I downed a pain au chocolat and two sandwiches in rapid succession. We were on the road again soon after, rain jackets removed, but still really cold.  We thought the challenge today was going to be not getting bored on the miles of long flats / waves of hills. As it turned out, the wind was the main problem, gusting at over 50km/h and against us almost all the way.

Our group were, bar 3 riders, the rear guard of the road warriors evacuation of Europe / advance on Manchester and we pretty much stayed there all day. At each checkpoint, we were just arriving as others moved on.

I was soon struggling again with no energy and Lenny suggested a glucose drink for a quick shot of energy. That got me to CP2 at 92km. Seeing the riders arrive at a checkpoint is like watching some kind of feeding frenzy of cookie monsters or piranhas, as they descend on the back of the vans for food. Any food, just food!

I’m ravenous and everyone else is the same. “Can I get a jam sandwich please?” “I have cheese prepared.” “I’ll have that while I’m waiting, thanks!” I’m hoovering down the food to try and get my energy levels up – 3 sandwiches, bananas, biscuits covered in Nutella, but it only helps for an hour or so.

Liz, for example, also felt the same - her energy also down to nothing. She felt like giving up all the way to the first cp - Rob kept her going until she was through it, and she completed the 245km. She's up again today with no thought of giving up.

Chris has mentioned that we spent 12 hours riding today. 13 and a ½ hours on the road, and covered 248km. Such a long time on a bike is difficult to explain and it’s impossible to find anything to do that will adequately “fill the time.”

Ironically though, my lack of energy keeps me totally pre-occupied. I can’t think about anything else – I’m focussing 110% on not hitting the guy in front, or veering into the pavement for long stretches.

In addition to that, the wind is causing such havoc that we are all totally focussed on staying up right. At times it’s so strong that it’s like watching 9 mime artist cyclists in yellow jerseys pretending to lean against an invisible wall – we are literally leaning at 45 degrees into it to stay upright. Hilarious for the cars passing by, but not so much for us!

This part of France is just one massive piece of open land as far as the eye can see. It is incredibly green, and after Malta you’d think it would be welcome. But with no cover at all, it is SO windy that even the trees are bent over double. If it’s like this every day, it’s no wonder the French are so grumpy!

At checkpoint 3 the frenzy resumed and I managed to eat sandwiches, figs, biscuits, banana and some toxically yellow banana sweets made of nothing but sugar and additives. 

Weirdly (or maybe not after those banana sweets), after 200km and by 5.45pm my fatigue had totally lifted. My energy had kicked back in and my whole outlook changed immeasurably. 45 minutes later and I'd totally forgotten how the morning felt.

The wind changed in our favour for 10km - it brought about a total change in mood of group. We switched from a straight line huddled as close as possible, saying nothing, with grim determined faces ploughing on.

We broke formation, chatting, riding like 10yr olds, weaving across the road and back, between each other, as if released from the shackles of drafting.   It didn't last long - maybe 15 minutes, but it was great and it got us to 220km even though it had changed back again before we got there.

We reach the last checkpoint and there's ice cream and only (!) 25km to go. Fabulous :) Spirits are high even if the bodies are weak. We leave, the wind is back up, the sun is going down and its getting cold. We just get our heads down and put foot to pedal, with the goal of getting home as quick as possible.

You have to ask why we didn’t do that for first 11 hours??

We’re in, and it’s 8.30pm, at least an hour and a half later than I’d hoped for. The showers are freezing cold, and as soon as we’re un-packed and eaten it’s time for bed. Then up at 5am and packing again.

Anyway, here we are now, leaving continental Europe. We have 9 days down, and only 3 to go. That’s only 500km more and it’s over. Just taking one day as it comes has got us here, almost without realising it.

We have today, one more killer day like yesterday and then a gentle 140km stroll into Manchester and we're done. It’s so close we can almost feel it.

But it wouldn’t be LifeCycle if we didn’t make it a little harder than it needs to be. So, we are getting up at 5am yesterday (for long ride), today (for police escort to ferry) and tomorrow (for long ride) and 4am on friday (to have any chance of meeting Sir Alex). We are also getting in late: yesterday (long ride), today (ferry causing late start) and also tomorrow due to another long ride.

The event takes so much out of you that, like the last 9 days, they’ll also be over before we even realise it too. God I hope so!

Day 9 : Chris' Story

Special Guest Writer: Chris Watson


I’m glad that’s over! Today was such a long day that Andy has decided to pull rank and has ‘delegated’ the bulk of today’s blog to me, so here goes...

Alan decided that we should start an hour earlier than normal to allow for the extra kilometres we needed cover (248 in all) so we woke up at 5am, long before the sun rose. The day started with the group in a good enough mood, especially considering the time. Andy’s toys had successfully been returned to his pram and we were ready to go by 7am. The Betfair riders split into 3 groups: The guys that wanted to stay at the usual pace, those who wanted to take it easy and those who were hoping to be scouted for next year’s tour de France.

I found myself in the middle group and we immediately realised that, if our main challenge yesterday was the rain, today’s would most certainly be the wind. For about 12 of the 13 long hours we were riding, the howling wind was in our faces, making the day absolutely soul destroying for all. On roads where we would usually average between 25 and 30kmph, today we were lucky if we got up to 20kmph. All day it felt as if we were climbing a never ending hill with no beautiful view at the top nor exciting downhill at the end.

Still, a quick stop at the patisserie for a mid morning treat and everyone seemed to feel fairly positive about the rest of the day ahead. I decided that, if all went well, we would be at the accommodation by about 6:30pm.

All did not go well. The previous night and that morning Alan had explained to everyone the importance of disciplined drafting in big groups along the long, flat roads to keep our average speed up. However, get it wrong and accidents can happen. After about 85km we were in a large group battling against the wind and I was directly behind Nick when I clipped the back of his wheel and before I had time to break I had got tangled up and went crashing to the ground. Luckily, the riders behind me managed to swerve around me as I lay at the side of the road. I decided to be brave and picked myself up straight away. Then I remembered that I am not at all brave and realised that my knees had taken the brunt of the crash so I decided to have a sit down. As my fellow riders gathered around to see if I was OK I thought I should try again to stand up, I quickly realised this was a bad idea so I had another sit down and compose myself.

Everyone was quick to make sure I was OK and offered me various supplements/drugs to make me feel better. After a couple of minutes I managed to stand up and inspect the damage to my bike. The front wheel had completely buckled beyond repair so we called for backup. Alan arrived and took my bike away to be repaired whilst Tim generously offered his bike so I could continue riding whilst they went to get me a new front wheel.

The rest of the day was horrible, the wind being totally to blame. We arrived at the accommodation just after 8pm as the sun was beginning to set; all feeling relieved to have arrived but utterly exhausted both mentally and physically. All I wanted to do was collapse in a heap on the floor but I did my best to stick to the routine: stretch, protein shake, food, (very cold) shower, wash clothes. Now I have never been more ready for bed.

Today I experienced the huge highs and lows of Lifecycle; on the one hand I saw the incredible team spirit of the riders and efficiency of the back up team when I fell off, but on the other hand I found out just how hard a day of cycling can be. It’s after 10pm now and we’re getting up in less than 7 hours. There are still a few people out cycling, struggling with injuries, hopefully they’ll arrive soon so they can get at least some sleep before tomorrow.

So after the toughest day of the challenge by far I’ll try and end on a positive note. Tomorrow we arrive in England for the final leg of our journey, back to riding on the correct (as opposed to the right) side of the road and only 3 days to go, safe in the knowledge that it can’t get any worse than today... We hope.

Day 8 : Wet

Day 8 Ride Stats and Map

From Luxembourg to Belgium in one, not so easy, lesson. A grey overcast morning and it’s definitely going to rain at some point. Dan’s going to ride with Steve but I’m worried about spending too long in the saddle today with such a huge ride to come tomorrow, so I’m going to ride with Lenny and some of the other Betfair team.

The card doesn’t look too scary, but I think we’ve all learnt the hard way that means nothing so we’re ready for a few climbs. It starts to rain almost straight away, rain jackets go on, and Evan, Nick, Chris and I start the climb out of Steinsel, with Lenny not too far behind.

From minute one my bike doesn’t feel right – the gears aren’t working smoothly and I’m having to not use the ones I would use the most. Talking it through with Evan, it’s probably nothing serious but it’s frustrating and things like that play on your mind when you have nothing else to think about. We agree to look at it at the checkpoint. 20km with a clunky chain. Not happy.

Alan talks about “conceptualization” – where something will happen / go wrong and, because of your mental and physical state you will start to allocate blame anywhere other than to yourself, or the real cause. I can see how it can happen in a situation of heightened stress like this.

It’s hot and humid. Wearing a rain jacket in these conditions is like riding in your very own personal sauna – it’s ridiculously hot and I can feel the sweat on my bare arms on the jacket sleeve. Uncomfortable isn’t the word. We get to the top of the climb – a 12% for 2km – the tops come off. It’s either that or fade away.

The weather is raining stop and start so the only answer is to keep the jackets on and bear the heat that goes with keeping partially dry at least. The four of us ride comfortably together for the first 40km and after 2 hours we hit the checkpoint. Lenny has been behind us all morning, over taking just before the checkpoint when we’d stopped for a comfort break. He’s about to go, and asks if I’m coming. I need to fix the bike so he goes on alone. Would have been nice if he’d waited, or at least offered. I know why he didn’t, and it’s perfectly sensible not to wait when I am in a group already, but it plays on my mind.

No obvious fix to the bike so it’s a case of putting up with it. More to play on my mind. And it gets worse. The four of us set off, and the pace is far quicker than the first session. The weather worsens too – the wind has really picked up and we’re riding right into it. The rain is sheeting down across us and we’re drenched.

I can’t keep up with the pace in this wind, on the hills. Our group is now spread out – Evan is pushing on as if he’ll dissolve like the Wicked Witch of The West if he stays out any longer. Nick is 20 metres behind, trying to keep up. He does, and then falls behind again. Ad nauseum. Chris is aware that the group has splintered and is in two minds. He catches Nick, falls behind, in some kind of no mans land, and then pushes on again.

It takes all I have to catch them every now and again, and then they move away again. The weather is awful and my bike is not in good shape. I can’t understand why we aren’t all saving energy by drafting together in one group. Instead we are all working as hard as we can to keep the speed up, with no support or respite from each other, as we were trained to do.

I try my best not to let the negative thoughts get to me. I try and be positive – I spend a long time thinking through why we’re so spread out. Why it may be because I’m slower and should have gone with Lenny when offered. He’s still ahead on his own too, after all. I plan a positive way to discuss it when we all get to checkpoint two, and how best to propose we could work better together as a team for the remainder of the day. Linda, and the many people who have helped coach me over the years would have been proud of my logical, structured, well thought through approach and plan.

We past 20km in the worst conditions I’ve ridden in, for 2 hours, before we reached the lunch stop. I’d ridden it largely by myself, as had the others, although they’d managed to group together. By that time we’d also overtaken Lenny who took a good 5 minutes to arrive after I did.

Nick asks how I’m doing. Here’s my chance to put my well though through plan into action.

“F**king Rubbish to be honest! Where the F**k is our team? Lenny’s riding all on his own. Evan’s trying to get home before 3. You’re desperately trying to hold on to him. Chris is the only one aware of what’s happening and doesn’t know what to do! That was the worst 2 hours I’ve had on a bike and we’re all killing ourselves when we could be working together and saving energy ahead of tomorrow! What the F**k is going on?????”

“If you guys want to go that fast then, no problem but tell me, and I’ll ride with Lenny and go at a normal pace. Don’t let me turn down that opportunity then up the pace so much without saying you’re going to!”

Ok, so not quite what I rehearsed, but I think I made my point! :)

Evan looked like I’d just taken a gun out and shot him. Speechless. Chris saw what was coming and walked as far away as possible. Nick, ever the diplomat, said he felt the pace was fine actually. But agreed we should be saving energy for tomorrow.

Lenny caught the back end of the tirade/well thought through motivational half time team talk and found it all quite funny.

We agreed to pace ourselves more sensibly this afternoon. Evan invited me to lead off and set the pace. I did, looked round and saw no one there at all! Payback? No – just he’d been called back at the last minute, but it would have been funny if it was :)

The weather was miserable, but my mood had lifted. It’s amazing what it can do to get things off your chest. The mood of the group was probably a bit off for a while but I think it was soon forgotten as the common enemy became the elements again. And the lorries. Each one that screamed past sent a sheet of water our way as well as buffeting us with the slip stream. It was like some kind of white knuckle ride at the Water Park. Amazingly I actually found that the best part of the ride, I’m not sure why.

A comedy fall at a brief stop from the rain and my gears were now playing up even more, skipping and jumping without me touching the changers. Not helping at all as I found it hard to get the right pace to join a draft when the gears weren’t playing ball.

We reached checkpoint 3 at 120km after the worst of the rain had hit us (although we didn’t know that then. We were soaked and cold and I, personally, wasn’t sure whether to crack on or stop. Lenny decided it for me. The best plate of chips , with coffee, that I have EVER had made a huge difference. Nick, Dave and Chris carried on. Lenny, Evan and I ate heartily, and warmed a little.

A happy half hour down and time to get back out. No fun putting on wet jackets on wet skin and shirts. Sticky and clammy. Putting a soaking wet helmet back on was even worse. I rang out my gloves and about a pint of water fell from each before I could put them on again.

Paul joined us, and the four of us headed for home. The weather began to lift and so did our moods. All the wet stuff came off and we dried out as we rode the last hour home. It was like two different days – both weather wise and emotionally. We even had the joy of expecting another 8km and then finding we arrived. The cards were wrong, in our favour for once!

Without a doubt my least comfortable day. Physically no worse, but the issues with the rain and the bike, together with my tiredness clearly affected me today in ways I didn’t expect. Even planning for the worst didn’t help.

We’re staying in an army barracks, now some kind of refugee camp. Shower and wash, and then on to the bikes. I dented my drop out when I fell, and thats caused my gears to not work. Luckily Evan has the same bike as me and has a spare, so we change it over and all is good with my gears again. Another notch up on the mood-ometer. The soup and pasta take it up even further.

Over dinner the team all discuss just how good my motivational chat was. Not very! Maybe I should have stuck with the one I planned out after all. A humble apology to Evan if it came out a little negatively.

We’re all looking ahead to tomorrow now. It’s a huge day and we’re going to leave at 7am instead of 8am to give us a bit more time. So we should be back by 9pm now – result!

I’m praying to Lance, the Bike God, for no more rain or wind – we’ll need all the help we can get to make the distance tomorrow. I have no idea how I’m going to do such a distance and I think quite a few of the guys are in the same boat. Early nights all round, and left alone with our own thoughts and ways of preparing for the day to come.

And Team Betfair will be United on the road again once more I’m sure!!