It's Official! Today is a Good Day

First things first. It’s easy to be so wrapped up in what’s going on here, when you’re living and breathing it from when you wake to when you go to sleep, that life at home can be forgotten. Well last night and this morning I found that harder to do than up ‘til now. I’ve just spoken to Claire who had a doctors appointment today and is very very happy indeed! And so am I. It’s now official - we’re 12 weeks in and everything looks good so I can tell you – we’re going to have a baby!! Not a bad way to end the day :) :)

Todays Ride Stats

Last night after I signed off something happened that defined LifeCycle for me. At 10.15pm Lewis and Ed made it in to the accommodation. They’d been out since 8am like everyone else. Ed was carrying an injury and Lewis had the day to end all days. He got lost twice, he lost his passport, his cleats broke, he got stung by a bee and then rode in the dark with a light so dim he could barely see his tyre. He rode at 5km/h waiting for cars to pass so he could get light from them to hopefully see a LifeCycle road sign. There’s optimism (or faith in the bike Gods) for you. In the end they rode in with the support vehicle behind them to give them light to see. Over 12 long hours after they headed out they made it back. I can’t imagine how tough that was, and can only hope I have the courage and commitment to carry on when (not if) I found myself in a similar situation. I’m not sure I will mind you. Beyond impressive. And what’s more Lewis was smiling. He was so proud to have got through that day that everything he’d gone through was irrelevant by the end. Brilliant.

And let’s not forget the support teams. The back up team that went to look for them and had the patience not to just sweep them in to the van to get home quick. And the crew doing food who waited so they could eat when they got in, with no complaint. That whole thing summed up the team spirit of the event for me in one lesson.

So, family worries aside, this morning we woke to a cold dark morning. Which turned into a cold but bright sunny morning by 7.30am, no more than 12 degrees. Many knee and other injuries, together with the Lewis/Ed incident leant a different mood to the morning. After the briefing and a few cautionary words we were off. We headed into tall tree lined countryside and went steady in the cold air. Dan’s knee was heavily strapped and moving carefully. Lenny was checking his rear wheel and heard the shouts too late to avoid hitting David Souchet and then hitting the floor. “What did you stop for? I wasn’t looking!” – classic. No bones broken, and more importantly, no bike parts broken either.

At 8km we hit a 4km climb of 8% - tough going and Dan fell behind. When he reached the top, Lenny and I had waited, but he told us to go on ahead. It was like a scene from a war film. “You go on boys, I’ll cover you.” We left him behind and moved further into the ride. I had mixed feeling about this I have to say. I didn’t want to leave my training partner behind. I was worried, not only that he might not make the end of the day, but that it might also affect my confidence not having him around. And most importantly we had promised our wives that we’d look after each other and I was terrified about what Hannah would do to me when she found out I’d left him on the streets of some village in Germany. Certainly not the Delta Force spirit, but he assured me there were plenty of riders to stick with today. I agreed, knowing another long ride might not be good for my behind.

It was warming up and we rode alone. The scenery was great – huge fields of green as far as you can see, and then canyons made of trees that lead you through to the next part of the forest. The ride was really enjoyable even. I could think of home and still enjoy what was going on around me. I was still honking to try and save my backside from a fate worse than a fate worse than death.

I have to be honest and tell you that I was so worried about it yesterday that I let a female other than my wife have a look. She was a doctor, so it’s ok. Technically at least, although I’m still not sure I’m 100% comfortable with the idea. Bet she’s not either! And, to be fair, I’m not sure Claire would look even if I asked!! Apparently it’s not life threatening yet, even if it feels like it. I took that to mean “stop whining and let me treat a real patient!”

What was great was that there were also plenty of yellow jerseys to be seen. The country side was so vast and teams were slowing and speeding up, so we saw lots of different groups.

By 20km we saw one of the back up vans scream past us back the other way. And shortly after past us again, telling us to stop. Apparently we’d missed a turn and they wanted to be sure. After a 10 minute wait they finally returned and we had gone wrong. We could see a route back to the course on the gos but we were told to turn round and head back to the place we’d gone wrong. An extra 5km for us, and an extra 12km for John, Pierre, Jez and the other Betfair riders. Except Evan, Roger and Chris. Ever the rebels they carried on!

We reached the place in Marazell Village where we should have turned, and Alan and his mystery machine were there to guide us. We saw a little old lady in her garden watching us all very carefully. Suspecting skulduggery, in the form of sign stealing by the locals, we stopped and confronted her. Freddie (Alan), Daphne (Shirley) and Thelma (Joanne) pulled her mask off to reveal none other than Hannah Staples! She would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for those pesky back up kids!!  Those Staples sure are competitive!! :)

So now Dan was back in front of us. No matter. He was fine and nothing could spoil the mood of the day for me. I was loving the ride and couldn’t wait to speak to Claire later. The check point was due at 44km. It wasn’t. What a difference in response compared to yesterday. I was totally thrown yesterday afternoon as I was so focussed on getting there, to my sanctuary, from the slog of the ride. Today I didn’t mind at all. I didn’t want the ride to be interrupted, despite the ups and downs (literal ones, in the road, not figurative ones), and enjoyed the extra few km’s.

Nick joined Lenny and I as we left the checkpoint and we visited more villages and country side. Polite car drivers ever patient as we rode together, basking in the sun and the tranquillity of it all. It sounds blissful doesn’t it? Not far off. The only issue was Lenny hitting a pavement and going over again! Two in one day after never having fallen before. Not a happy 86km and Checkpoint 2 was there before we knew it. A lovely restaurant, all the usual suspects there enjoying a nice lunch and relaxation, knowing it was only another 50 odd km to go.

Now we were in the heart of the Black Forest and we set off in good spirits and down a road running alongside a river and the forest opposite. A left turn and we were onto the first demon of the day – a 4km climb through the forest, at a gradient of 13%. Tough going and in the hottest part of the day the group thinned quickly to their own steady pace. A good 20-30 minute climb, focussing on small sections at a time and not thinking how far left to go. In the zone, just focussed on turning the pedals at a constant cadence that wouldn’t strain knees, yet take too long either.

Lenny’s chain comes off and I learnt a few more Maltese swear words to go with the ones I picked up earlier. I think it’s fair to say that Lance, the God of Bikes is not looking too kindly on him today!

We reach the top, a short downhill and then straight into another climb – 6km at a gradient of 6% - a steady climb but far easier to get into a happy rhythm, and the three of us chatted our way through quite happily.

And then, some relief. A 15km downhill with the forest on both sides – 20 minutes of solid downhill riding at speeds up to 60km/h but averaging around 45km/h. What an amazing feeling to be flying down such a long hill after months of training in Siggiewi!!!

Through Baden Baden and out the other side and another 15km to go. One more big climb Lenny said. It’s a beast! A 3km climb at a gradient of 15%. Huge. Ridicluous. It towers up over you when you look up. I try not to. It’s winding so you can’t see What’s ahead. But, masochistically, you really want to know. Then you turn the bend and wish you didn’t after all. For the first time this trip I am drenched in sweat. It’s so hot it’s dripping into my eyes, and my shirt is stuck to me. It’s a country of extreme weather is all I can say! At the top of the ridge we think it’s all over and a left turn is sign-posted. Nope. It carries on for another 750m after the turn, until we finally hit the top.

Down through a small village and we reach a downhill. We read the cards – its a 3km drop. Fantastic! But what’s that?? With 10km to go we read that there is ANOTHER 14% 3k climb to come before home. How did we miss that? Gutted, but not suicidal we enjoy the hill and steel ourselves for one last climb.

It doesn’t materialise. It’s a typo and is actually a downhill – bonus!! Now that’s motivational!! :)  We’re into the village, past a fabulous black forest bakery (straight back there in a minute)and turn the corner to the stop. Made it in before 3pm – the target for the day. I’d guess I honked at least 110km of today’s 135km – I don’t have quads anymore, they’re now officially dects!!

Dan and Steve picked up their pace after the lunch stop and came in only just behind Lenny, Nick and I. Good news all round. We settle into our routine to get it all out of the way so we can enjoy a few hours spare time before bed and another big day tomorrow.

Me? I’d better get used to this not sleeping much, but I couldn’t be happier, and have another reason to get to Manchester!

The Tricky Fourth Day

Sadly I didn't do over 700km today but still worth looking at the route!

So it seems we’ve moved from the Darma Bunker to the film set for the Great Escape – wooden cabins with bunk beds in straight from the film, I’m sure! But no complaints from anyone – it beats the sleeping bags for sure.

It’s cold outside but looks to be clearing up. There’s a real mix of outfits today – I opt for long tights under my shorts (nice) as well as overshoes (classy) and arm warmers (the touch). Lee goes for the same, Dan skips the tights (preferring to save them for a special occasion I think) and Evan opts to go commando and forego all of the above. He’s the optimist of the bunch.

Pretty much all of the Maltese opt for anything they can find to keep them warm now we are away from our sunny isle. That, and they are more experienced and probably know better to be safe than sorry. Setting off from the accommodation we go through Altdorf and out the other side skirting Lake Lucerne. The mist was still covering the tops of the surrounding mountains, sun was breaking through making shafts of light on the rock and the water was a beautiful green. The route took us along cycle lanes that hugged the lake giving us amazing views as we went. If not a few hairy moments trying to cross the roads to get to them. A stunning way to start the day.

We entered Brunnen, a lovely Swiss village and started a really long steady climb from 18km to just over 30km varying from 4% to 8% gradients. A really tough first hill to start with after yesterday. A big group split into smaller clusters as we made our way up. After 25km I realised Dan and Lenny weren’t in my group and I dropped back to see where they were. Dan was struggling with a sore knee and was taking things slowly so we completed the climb together as a three.

I actually really enjoyed the climb and found, in the same way that necessity is the mother of invention, that honking (riding out of the saddle) was good for me. It certainly kept my increasingly tender backside away from the cause of all that discomfort. Having previously been unable to honk for me than a few hundred yards, I climbed the whole hill that way. And even found myself enjoying the gentle rhythm that it allowed me to get into.

As we reached the top the weather closed in, and the downhill was done in strong winds and rain which made it tricky to reach any speed – a max of around 50km/h was the best we could do in those conditions. None of us could see because of the rain on our glasses and hot chocolate was called for. Dave also caught us up just before Checkpoint 1 at 53km just as the rain eased off.

My knees weren’t too bad, while my rear end was clearly winning the battle today. It was weird – out of the saddle there was no pain at all, not even a slight tingle. But sit down, and it was as if my body was shooting a machine gun at me, trying to make me dance to avoid the bullets. Sorry to go on about it, but I can’t begin to tell you how painful it is. You spend hours trying to find any variation on seat position just to find a spot that isn’t as sore as the rest – the hours really fly by. NOT!

As we left checkpoint 1 I have to tell you I was thinking that I would have nothing to write about tonight. 25% down, the day seemed a foregone conclusion, a mere 50km to the next checkpoint, over half way and we’ll be in with no problems. And that’s when LifeCycle bites you in the arse.

The second 50km took longer than expected. A combination of the hills and Dans knee slowed us down, while the pain I was suffering made it feel even slower. By the time we got there the sun was out and it was like a totally different day. Evan was grinning like a Cheshire cat and we all shed our layers as soon as we could. Except the tights, they felt good. Or, they were just too long to get off, so didn’t bother. You decide!

The support teams were nowhere to be found. Apparently they’d gone off to rescue some riders who’d veered on to the motorway. We bought an amazingly good value lunch from the restaurant – a mere 30 euros for 4 coffees and 2 sandwiches and relaxed until the support teams showed up. The Others set off and Dan got some strapping for his knee. A long stop, over 45 minutes in all and we were losing sight of the finish line. More hills, in the heat and by the time we hit 100km we agreed the pace was slow. We set Lenny and Dave loose to go on and catch the others as they were feeling strong, while Dan and I carried on at a slower pace.

The old team back together again. Despite the pain and the wish to be moving faster and, frankly, just being somewhere else, the scenery was stunning. Green fields everywhere, swiss chalets littered around, birds of prey overhead and swallows circling too. The swiss red arrows even gave us a show. It was difficult not to feel some sense of the tranquillity of the place.

Eventually we passed through customs (not border patrol apparently) and through a stunning Marlow-esque village on the river. And then a series of tortuous steep hill climbs that felt like they went on for ever. Not as long as yesterday by any stretch but in the heat, and after yesterday, they took their toll.

We crossed the border, more great views, finished our water and ploughed on for the checkpoint knowing it was just around the corner. It wasn’t. We were both in need of water and not seeing it was surprisingly de-motivating. We agreed to carry on and buy a drink from the next shop. There wasn’t one. I texted Alan to let him know we’d missed the checkpoint before we carried on, at least knowing we were on the right track. Another steep climb. Each one with Dan in as fast a gear as his knee will allow and me in one that allowed me to honk and move!

I waited at the top, Alan replied. They’d moved the checkpoint. By 3km. We’d just done them. All uphill, but in hindsight were glad the stop was after that climb! The boys were all there, and just setting off as we arrived. The Weasels arrived just behind us. Great hospitality, a huge coke and a fantastic piece of German cake to get our energy up.

50km to go. Now feeling like a huge ask. 4-30 already and looking like a 7pm finish. Not much to look forward to there as we set off. Guess what. Another huge climb straight around the corner from the stop. On the bright side, the roads were great, the cars were very few, the peace was good and we were able to ride side by side without being hooted at by Maltese drivers for once. The chat kept us going through the country until we reached the main roads. Pace picked up, partly due to the roads and partly because we just wanted to get there. Averages of less than 30 minutes so far for each 10km stepped up to nearer 23/24 minutes. Much better. But not without taking a toll on Dan’s knee. And mine too were showing signs of the strain and suggesting very politely for me to stop or slow down at least. No chance

Comfort break for Dan, and I saw a few missed calls/texts from Steve Mault about our arrival. Responses and replies carried on while we travelled at 30km/h on the road. Not ideal but I didn’t want to stop again. I wasn’t sure I’d start if we did!

We counted down the last 10km, now back on the country roads, drafting and switching every 1km to keep it fresh (!). 175km became 177km, then 179km. We thought we were looking for Willengen, but saw a sign suggesting it was 7km further. Please, no!

Thankfully, no was the right answer. The next sign took us to the stop for the night. Bang on 180km, and we finally dismounted for the day. I have no idea how but we made it in before half 6 – the last 50km far quicker than we expected, thankfully.

The boys were all there. Apart from Lenny. Lenny was lost in Germany – Soner desperately trying to get him on the phone. He’d missed a sign and ended up 20km further on. The third sign miss for him today – we’re realising its not his strong suit! It seems he’s not alone and quite a few teams left the course at various points.

The accommodation is a sports hall – loads of space and great showers so no complaints. Even though we’ll be on the floor once again. The food was excellent, as usual and I ate my own weight in rice. Curry night! I am determined not to lose any more weight than I have although Lenny tells me I’ll be a stone lighter!

180km. 8 hours and 40 minutes. The longest ride, time-wise, we’d done so far. An easy grey morning turned into a sunny endurance test that I wasn’t sure we’d finish before dark. It just goes to show you can’t take anything for granted.  I'd say I honked for about 150km today and found quad muscles I never knew I had.  Big effort from Dan, and from many of us - the queue for treatment from the physios is getting longer at each stop and days end now.

Yesterday was like a big European Champions League fixture where we were 5 down at the end of the first leg, but won 6-5 on aggregate, and felt glorious. Today was like a tricky mid week home fixture against Everton. One up at half time we were lucky to scrape a draw after going down to 10 men and seeing Everton have two good goals disallowed and before they missed a last minute penalty. Lucky to walk away with a point!  But that's how you win titles!

It’s gone 10pm already as we finished late so that’s it for me. Tomorrow is an allegedly short 130km bit has a few horrors in it so I am preparing for the worst!

Into The Valley Of Death Rode The 43....

St Gotthards Ride Stats - you have to see this!

A reasonably good nights sleep - the bunk beds at the Darma Bunker seemed to bring about a snore free night, but drinking all this water is causing a few nigh time trips to the bathroom!



Everyone is suffering with a common problem – by this morning the lactic acid build up in our legs has reached epidemic proportions and no one can get up without walking like a 70 year old. I’ve always visualised acid as a liquid substance but this lactic acid stuff seems to be made of lead and filling every part of my upper legs!


Last night a small disagreement was underway in my body as to which part of my anatomy was causing me the most pain. My knees and my backside had fallen out trying to out-do each other. By this morning it had turned into an all out war, each one of them desperate to beat the other in seeing just how much they can hurt me. The battle lines have been drawn and they are determined to fight until the end in order to win. What’s worse is that I know there are other body parts just waiting to see what happens before they decide to enter the fray – will they side with one of the key protagonists or will they try and steal victory from two weakened opponents at a later date????


Leaving the shelter of the bunker is not for the feint hearted – this morning is much colder than yesterday. You can tell this, and also that the guys are expecting a colder day when you see all the experienced riders donning arm warmers, tights and base layers. Not much sun cream to be seen on the arms and legs today!


While we’re getting ready to go some of the Maltese guys are talking to the Italian watching us – I have no idea of what was said other than hearing the words St Gotthards and him laughing out loud!


Alan gives his briefing and I think today will be the day that sorts the men from the boys – I expect the likes of Marcel, John, Pierre and Jez to be the kings of the Mountain. With a few final words of encouragement we’re off.


Every morning I like to start with visualising the end. But with no idea what our day by day destination looks like I have decided to picture arriving at Old Trafford, meeting Sir Alex and, of course, seeing Claire again. I can’t wait and this always serves to motivate me and also make me a little emotional. Not the Sir Alex bit. Ok, well maybe a little.


The conflict between backside and knees erupts again, and for the first 5km the firepower is immense! My knees open fire with their aching and clicking, while my backside returns fire with, well what seems like fire actually. The only saving grace is that it takes my mind off the lactic acid in my thighs which decide to save their pain for another day.


I still struggle to get my head around the psychological concept of endurance sports like this. To my mind, and the “get it done now” mentality I have it still makes no sense at all when I hear all the seasoned pros around me saying take it easy, conserve energy, slow down! If you are on a flat road why not go as fast as you can? Of course, I know the logic behind it, slow your heart rate, use less energy, burn more fat, but I just don’t like it to be brutally honest.


We’re about 10km out from the start and heading up a hill when I suddenly re-realise that this is also an individual sport as well as a team one. After two days of riding as a group quite happily I remember that when the hills and mountains come it also becomes all part riding with yourself and your own demons in the head. I need to re-focus my mind quickly to get ready for not being able to rely on everyone around me for the St Gotthards climb.


Having made that climb, my first experience of a proper downhill, and I realise why people love this sport. It’s a huge descent! And goes on for 5km – what seemed a lot at the time. The roads were long, with a few windy bits and we hit a top speed of over 70km/h. Just amazing – all of us grinning like Cheshire cats as we hit the flat.


So, 20km in and another 64 to go until we hit the checkpoint for the St Gotthards time trial. I ask you. Who decides to make one of the toughest mountains in Europe harder than it is? Alan bl**dy Curry, that’s who! Yes, a time trial to “make it interesting”.


We plough on, the weather turns less warm. The clouds roll over and the sun disappears. Has anyone seen Lord of The Rings?


Actually, as we rode the mountains closed in all around us. It was like we were riding into the point of a V, moving ever closer to the challenge of the Pass. It was like riding into the Valley of Death, and the certain torment that came with it. Dramatic eh??


At this point, the backside was winning the battle for Botha and I was riding out of the saddle as much as possible to avoid the indescribable pain of sitting on my supposed gel filled saddle. Gel filled my arse!


I’ve written before about using milestones to help get me through training, but it’s been difficult here to be honest. Everything is unknown and so big that it makes it almost impossible to see a 10km lap in context, but anything longer is too far ahead to be of use in helping get you through.


The re-starts from checkpoint 1 and 2 both see a recommencement of hostilities for the upperhand between knees and backside which start in a blazing firefight each time, and continue relentlessly.


Leaving checkpoint 2 we start the time trial at 84km. The top is at 97km and I have no idea what lies in wait for us. We set off at 30 second intervals, knowing that the time trial is secondary to just making it to the top at all.


We have approximately an hour and half of hell in front of us. The climb is pretty much all cobbles – very pretty but bl**dy useless if you’re on a bike! As I said, I’d been looking to get out of saddle as much as possible to rest but by now it’s more painful sitting back down again afterwards that I decide not to bother anymore.


I have my GPS set to record laps every 10km, but on this climb it should have been set to be every 100m instead. The climb was a relentless series of twisting road. Keep your cadence above 80! Keep your heart rate at 150! Now I knew that going harder would mean I didn’t make it to the top at all. Not that obeying those rules were a guarantee that I would make it anyway.


The climb was all in the head. Roger, Chris, Evan and Dan all moved away steadily. Lee and Lenny went the other way, while Nick and I ploughed on, about 50 metres apart. Neither one of us with the physical or mental energy to do what it took to ride together, let alone follow the others!


John, Pierre and Nigel overtook us at some point or other, I have no idea where. But the climb was so steep there was no sense of failure to be overtaken by anyone. It was totally a personal challenge.

I lost count of the number of times I wanted to stop, but thought I’d never get going again. 7km up, 8km up, 9km up. Maybe just a short break? No! Keep going! At 10km we saw John, Pierre and Nigel ahead resting. Fabulous! If they can do it, it must be ok!! “Hey Nick, shall we stop?”


They said to stop and stretch. They also said “f**k the time trial an d f**k Alan” – I said that’s what I’d been doing for the last hour!!


I swear that stop saved me. Stretching my legs for a few mew minutes before re-starting made all the difference, and we set off again with new energy. Let’s not get carried away – still only 10km/h but I was happy to be moving at all.


The last 3km we had nothing to focus on but getting to top, pedal turn by pedal turn. Just keep going. Ignore the fact that my legs are now so over flowing with lactic acid that it’s almost coming out of my mouth.


2km to go, another bend, and another. 1km to go, more bends, more cobbles. Then we see Eric, the photographer – we made it!! No! A false dawn - another 7 minutes apparently. Around the last bend and it’s about 400m uphill to the rooftops of the restaurant. It looks like 400km! As we get closer we see the cars. And then we see the yellow jerseys of Dan and the others.


Then we see Soner and the stopwatch. We’ve made it. I think I swore, but couldn’t honestly say for sure. But I am suddenly aware of how cold it is – I’m sweating but chilly all at the same time.


We’ve earned a leisurely 45 minute lunch and a long sssstretchhhhhh.


Roger was fast. Chris rode most of the way out of the saddle. Frankly “Un-natural” is the only word for anyone that can do that.


Lunch over, we’re back out. It’s really cold and getting colder. It feels miserable to be honest and I’m not looking forward to the last 50km.

Jackets on and off we go. What a surprise – the ride down was AMAZING!! No cobbles, just long sweeping downhill roads through the Swiss mountains The first downhill is a 10km downhill before flats reaching speeds of up to 70km/h again. Lee hits over 80km/h – I think my GPS is on the blink as it tells me I did over 110km/h. If only!


I am sure we all looked like something from Hot Tub Time Machine in our luminous yellow jackets, screaming down the swiss mountain side. Fixed grins – not just from enjoying descent but also from wind and cold. Not unlike parachute jump, I’m sure with g-force on our faces. We’re now on the German side and you can tell the difference in the signs and change in style of the houses. The cloud has turned to rain.


From 97km to 145km is mostly downhill at speed, in scenery from a chocolate box lid. We even have clanging bells from milka cows to ride to. It rains steadily for the last few km but everyone is happy - singing to ipods or singing to singing from ipods.


We get in and shower. Sadly I washed my ipod and found out the hard way they’re not waterproof! Silence from now on :(   The routine starts again, and we have another long day tomorrow – nearly 200km again.


But today was unbelievable. The toughest thing I’ve ever done by miles. Followed by the most exhilarating thing when I was least expecting it. The personal challenge to keep going was a real achievement for all of us that will last in the memory for years.


Writing this is proving to be a challenge of its own. By the time you get in you are drained physically, mentally and emotionally. Trying to write coherently is not easy. There is all sorts of stuff going around my head and it comes out in all sorts of random order. It’s a bit like those beach games you see on an 18-30 holiday when you make someone drink a shot, put their head down, spin round a pole ten times, and then tell them to run in a straight line. Instead they stagger into the sea and collapse. That’s me, apologies.


What? The time trial results? I thought I said it was a personal challenge, not a race! If you must know....


Marcel came in deservedly first, Steve Chetcuti an excellent second, Roger P in third and Chris “honker” Watson in fourth. Me? 14th in 1 hour and 26 minutes. Over the moon to have broken 1 and a half! Dan strolled in 8th in 1 hour and 18 minutes, with Evan one place ahead. Of course it’s a race Lenny!!!!

4 8 15 16 23 42

Day 2 Ride Stats And Map : Click Here For The Route

A 6am start today but once again I’m awake a good half hour before the alarm, courtesy of my nerves and my colleagues and their gentle snoring. It’s still dark outside and the view from our window is of the church steeple and the Lake in the background, the far shoreline lit by the street lights and houses. Not a bad wake up call.



Surprisingly, after a good warm up and stretch the legs don’t feel too bad. The room is incredibly cramped for 5 of us, and in the cold light of day I wonder how we managed to fit us all in. Not dissimilar to the situation with my luggage which seems to be expanding by the day and now is overflowing from my case, sports bag and rucksack!!


I’ve lost my route cards – filed “somewhere safe” and to avoid frustration decide to rely on the gps and the road signs, and enjoy not knowing what kinds of hills lay in wait for me. I’d also managed to lose the covers for my sleeping bag and mattress – just before I’m about to lose all sense of reason, they show up under another case, so crisis averted.


The mood around the breakfast area is good, more last minute bike preparation and we’re all good to go again, on time, for an 8am start. Just shy of 190km today and due to see a few more slopes today. Heading out of Toscolano there’s a cyclist coming the other way, down the hill. In the space of two days I’ve seen two cyclists that show the two extremes of Italy – the guy yesterday that would have given Dean Martin and the Rat Pack a run for their money in the cool stakes and, today, the garish underbelly of Italy – an overweight, balding guy in bright pink lycra cycling top and shorts. Hilarious – if nothing else it gave us a chuckle heading up the first incline of the day.


The group split and I found myself with Dan, Dave and some of the Maltese riders through a number of tunnels and more stunning scenery until we reached Breschia after 40km, in good time and feeling good too. For the next 45km to the next checkpoint, and lunch, we re-formed the Team Betfair peloton from yesterday with a guest celebrity in the form of Marcel. Great to be riding as a group, but really hard to concentrate and focus with a draft that long. I found I was enjoying the second session less, made worse with about 10km to go when I felt my energy levels really low again, and feeling shaky. It’s fair to say if there were any pies at the checkpoint I would have eaten them all, no debate. Instead I settled for 2 jacket potatoes, 3 nutella sandwiches and 2 jam sandwiches. No danger of feeling like that again today!


The group carried after lunch, but Dan, Lenny , Chris and I dropped off to wait with Roger after he got a puncture on his new Bat Bike. The ride to the next checkpoint went quickly, and the smaller group made it far easier to draft and enjoy the ride. By the time we hit checkpoint 3 the rest of the team were about to head off again. Rogers tyre was flat again – apparently he may have a Bat Bike but it has inner tubes that Batman wouldn’t be seen dead on! We left him fitting a new tube, donated to the cause and we were down to four.


The roads were far more hilly – with some tiring inclines followed by some fabulous winding down hills. One climb in particular was a beast – a 12% climb for over 2km – a good test for tomorrow. We passed Como, and crossed the Swiss border. A gap between us all so as to avoid being stopped and checked as a group. We navigated this potentially problematic area with no issues. But sadly our back up teams didn’t and were delayed for over two hours by the border guards who clearly curious as to what we’d be having for tea.


Once across the border the slopes came fast and furious. At the top of the first one Lenny screeched to a halt so fast I didn’t want to know what was wrong. Apparently a cold drink was in order to celebrate the climb and entering Switzerland. I gave him €10 for the 3 cokes and my sprite. Maybe enough in Italy but not in Switzerland. I suggested we pass but he insisted – “No Andy, We need the sugar”. He came back and passed out 3 cokes. No Sprite apparently so he got me a Coke Zero – so much for the sugar!


We crossed the lake, a beautiful green with the mountains all around, and then headed into Lugano itself. Stunning, but incredibly busy roads! Safely through we made it to the accommodation for the night. 190km down and just less than 8 hours riding completed.


The back up teams were all there already and the bags were unloaded. I have no idea what the place is, but it bares a remarkable resemblance to a Darma Initiative site from the Lost Island – sealable doors, bunk beds, and even what would pass for a de-contamination shower!! But the beds are a welcome site, the showers are hot, and there is plenty of space. Not quite the 5 star luxury of the seafront hotels down the road, but it ticks all the boxes for me.


With the extra hour over yesterday, and a routine beginning to form, we’re all done and eating dinner by around half seven. Another long day, but not a moment to stop and think none the less. A really enjoyable ride, despite the hills making it more challenging.


I don’t doubt that there will be many times in the next 10 days when I wish I was anywhere but on the challenge, or on a bike. But for now, I may have aching limbs and be slightly concerned about the big challenge of St Gotthards tomorrow, I can reflect on 2 days that were far more enjoyable than I ever thought they would be.


Talking to the other riders I get a similar sense of a variety of injuries and aches, but that the first two days have passed through some fantastic sights and proved to be all they hoped for. On top of that the team spirit and atmosphere is really good despite it being such a large group.


Roll on St Gotthards...

(no pictures tonight, sorry, but I can't get them to load.  Will try again tomorrow, big mountains permitting!!)

Day One: Old Trafford or Bust

View Todays Ride - 204km !!!

What a day – one of the most memorable days ever!

A bit of a strange start to be fair. No surprises that it wasn’t the greatest nights sleep – the nerves of the day to come, the less sleeping bag on the floor, and the various noises coming from 60 grown men all combined to make sure I was awake well before the 5am wake up call.

As soon as the lights came on people switched into auto-pilot, all looking like they knew exactly what they were doing, packing bags, getting ride kit on, rubbing various lotions on and making final adjustments to the bikes. Not forgetting eating copious quantities of cereal and nutella on bread.

I did the same, but not necessarily with the same degree of confidence – no doubt I’d forget something really important, and hope that someone will get me out of the ensuing hole. We wheeled our cases the 10 minute walk to the trucks, walked back and then returned to the square with our bikes, ready for the off. To everyone’s surprise we were all there and ready to rock with fifteen minutes to spare. Except Dan. Nowhere to be seen and not answering his phone, he finally arrived just on 8am and we were good to go.

The release of nervous energy as we set off across the water away from Venice was huge; to finally be moving forwards and to have started to the ride after all this time was fantastic. For the first few kilometres every single rider rode in single file – what a site to see, with many cars slowing to see what was going on.

Almost a disaster within 10km – one of the riders clipped the wheel in front and went down. Dan, drafting right behind just managed to miss him, and I narrowly avoided going over the handle bars into his head! Lenny followed up just behind, but no serious damage done to anyone and we carried on. Fair to say that the heart rate monitor peaked at its highest point all day, at that moment!

The weather was amazing – supposed to be stormy, but actually sunny and with a nice breeze to keep us cool. The roads were almost flawless (particularly compared to the usual Maltese roads) and everyone seemed to be relishing the ability to go at a decent speed without being jarred every moment. The Italian drivers were also amazing – incredibly aware of us, and patient when we were switching leads in the draft all day long.

The group split after the first check point as we made our way through the country side – It’s difficult to explain how great I felt at that time. I knew it was going to be short lived but I was going to make sure I enjoyed it while it lasted! The scenery was beautiful and finally there was no pressure on me at all to be anywhere else. No morning rides rushing to be at work, no weekend rides rushing to get home, no feelings of guilt that I should be somewhere else or not doing enough miles. Nothing to do but relax and enjoy the ride – made all the easier by the sights, and also knowing I wasn’t going around and around a small island anymore :)

The second checkpoint appeared on the horizon at just over 100km down – another quick round of nutella sandwiches and bananas and we were off again. An 11 man Team Betfair peloton ploughed on together, headwind slowing us a little, but still a really enjoyable ride through Verona and the river, going so well that we were held back at one point for 20 minutes because we’d caught the lead car putting out direction signs!

Our first major technical faults – Lee with wheel problems and Evan losing a spoke or two again – and we left them behind at a fortuitously placed bike shop to sort them out.

We finally reached check point 4 on Lake Garda at around 165km at 4pm. A big lake doesn’t quite cover it – it’s huge (Malta could fit inside it, although that doesn’t guarantee “huge” status I know!) and surrounded by the back drop of the mountains. Beautiful.

A few photos and, yes, another nutella sandwich and we set off for our final stop and our bed for the night. We came down an incline and down a windy hill alongside the most stunning scenery and view of the lake and the next town along (its name escapes me just now, sorry). Again, stunning. And only the Italians can make speed boats/launches as cool and iconic as the ones we saw in the showroom by the side of the road. Straight out of the 60’s and oozing style.

By this time we were ahead of the lead car, and flying blind as we headed in. Dan slowed to ask a passing Italian if we were headed the right way. I have never seen such a cool cyclist in my life. Somehow he managed to keep his immaculate clothes spotless and his slicked back her perfectly in place. Embarassed and ashamed of our appearance we shot past him as quick as our tiring legs would allow.

8 hours and 20 minutes of cycling later we arrived, first in (due to technical faults to the teams who were ahead of us) just before 6pm. The last 15km were tough. Slow going due to the traffic and not knowing where we were going. Oh, and because my legs were dying fast.

Unloading trucks, showering, washing kit, eating a fabulous dinner and getting everything ready for the morning. Everyone is now here – it sounds like an incident packed day for Tim and Alex but they should be good to go by morning. The atmosphere in the place is great, lots of banter and spirits are high.

A reasonably easy day (less hills than the rest of the week at least) but its still the first time many of us have gone over 200km and you can feel the sense of achievement around the place. 204.6km for me and it feels really good to have finally got there.

Tomorrow is another 200km day as we head towards Switzerland – here’s hoping my now aching knees have recovered by the time the alarms go off at 6am.

Sorry, this isn’t the greatest piece of writing you’ve read but I am so tired (more mentally than physically) that it’s hard to try and remember all the things that happened and also how to make them interesting to anyone, not even me! Will try harder but can’t promise anything!

Are We There Yet?

The last day at work was manic, as you’d expect but throughout the day, with no warning, my mind kept wandering back to the Challenge. It’s like life goes on at normal speed and then you find everything has slowed down, matrix-like, and you realise you’ve been day dreaming for who knows how long about the ride.

Most of the Malta Betfair team had lunch together and were regaled with stories of horror from last year’s ride by Lenny and Ian – all of us novices wondering just why they couldn’t have told us some of these grim details before we signed up. And what the *$*! have we let ourselves in for. Industrial strength ear plugs and wet wipes?? You figure it out...

I tried to have a normal Friday night take-away night with the family, and found the same kept happening. I did my best to stay “in the room” but I’m sure they all realised I had a few things on my mind.

After a pretty poor nights sleep I headed off, bleary eyed to see off the rest of the team at the airport. The usually quite sedate airport was heaving due to a combination of Saturday tourists and a faulty conveyor belt. Not quite to T5 standards, but you get the picture. The check in area was a sea of yellow LifeCycle t-shirts. A real mixture of emotions going on – excitement and relief to finally be going, nerves and anxiety about what to expect, and a few tears with the families all saying goodbye.

We did a quick presentation of the official Betfair sponsorship, with the Sports Minister on hand to wish everyone well, and then waved the team through the departure gate. Dan and I sat and had a coffee in the now deserted check in area – for me at least a mixed sense of “what now?” and “I wish that I could have been going now too.” We’d been left well and truly behind – the only saving grace was knowing that we’d be getting a plane from Rome to Venice tomorrow, while they had an 8 hour coach trip ahead of them at the other end!

A few last minute purchases, internet failure at the house, packing, re-packing, gps map loading (failed again!) and last minute chores kept me pretty busy right up until it was time to walk down to the wedding. Amazing how being busy on LifeCycle stuff stopped my mind drifting to it!

The wedding was great – a beautiful ceremony in the Palazzo in Naxxar and then on to the Bedouin Bar at the Westin for the reception. The three of us left, one by one – Lenny, then me, and finally Dan (not before he’d taken a bit more sponsorship from the gathered Betfair masses for taking on a drinking challenge). In my case finding it harder and harder to focus on the real world and finally giving in and deciding I was probably ok to be thinking of nothing else with so little time left.

More emotional scenes of farewell at the airport as the final three of us said our goodbyes, and walked through security and into the unknown. It’s a real shock to the system to be saying goodbye to my family and not knowing what the next two weeks hold for us all. We got to Rome with no problems and boarded our flight to Venice.

Despite the uncertainty before, it was only as we started to descend into Venice and I could see it out of the window that my stomach really caught up with how the rest of me had been feeling for days, and a huge swarm of butterflies decided to do a few laps – now it was finally real and I could answer “yes” to anyone who asked me if I was nervous!

We caught a water taxi to the Station in Venice – shutting my eyes and taking in the sense of the salty sea air took me back to growing up on the coast and it felt like I was home (for a while at least). Alan and Shirley met us and walked with us back to the accommodation so we could settle in. Venice looks like an amazing place but I have to be honest, it barely registered – so many things to prepare before tomorrow.

The hall is covered wall, to wall with bikes propped everywhere. We are obviously the last ones in, and pretty much every square inch of space was taken. We managed to find a couple of spaces to lay our mattresses down. Lee, Evan & Co had done our bikes – what a relief not to have to worry about that, and also that the bike was fine. I found myself thinking I’d better be strong on the ride or get used to struggling to find a decent spot to sleep!

That feeling of being at home didn't last long!!

The next couple of hours were spend unpacking, preparing for tomorrow and getting “sorted” in a bit of a blur. Team members drifted in and out, some sleeping, but most tinkering with bikes and riding around and around the small area outside the hall.

Its now 8.30pm, I feel ready for bed, but am not sure if I can sleep. And if I can, whether I will be woken and then not be able to get back to sleep again! It’s getting quiet but Lenny is still here trying to fix a problem with his back wheel. Not a good start, but plenty on hand to help if needed at least.

The nerves have gone now, overtaken by the relief that the ride is finally about to start – surprising because I thought I’d be in bits by now. But maybe I will be by this time tomorrow! :)

We are definitely there now.

The Twilight Zone

"There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call... The Twilight Zone!"  - Rod Serling

It's also a fair description of how the week between finishing our training and starting the challenge feels!

Between you and me, I'm a planner. I don't mind a bit of last minute panic - actually I quite enjoy it, but it has to be against the backdrop of a known plan. Organised is good, chaos is bad. And there is no doubt that the uncertainty of this week has taken me out of my comfort zone and into the twilight zone.

To be honest I'm not quite sure whether I'm coming or going.  The change of routine is a challenge in itself - not getting up at 5am and cycing for 3 hours before work is proving more difficult to get used to than I thought.  While some of the riders are blissfully sleeping in until 7.30am my body clock is totally pre-set and is ringing every 15 minutes from about 5.00am.

The reality has hit me that while I've been out cycling all these mornings life in the house has found a new routine, and they've all managed to get by without me.  And now, here I am - all at sea with nothing to do before 8.30am - trying to integrate myself back into their routines.  But only for a week, before I disappear again.  Understandably they're a bit reluctant to drop everything to pander to my every need until I head off!!

I'd guess that I've gained at least 4-5 hours a day back this week and I'm totally clueless as to what to do with it.  You'd think there would be so many things the week before we set off, but I can't think of anything at all.

Why is that?  Am I totally prepared for what lies ahead?  Absolutely not!  Half the problem is that I have absolutely no idea of what lies ahead, and therefore what I should be doing now.  When you don't know what you don't know, it's really hard to ask the right questions and to prepare in the right way.

In hindsight, no matter what Sgt. Major Curry and the seasoned veterans told us, the training was far harder than I expected.  And I don't doubt that whatever they have told us about the ride only scratches the surface and can't begin to prepare us for the next two weeks.

So, here I am, drifting through the week, with way more time on my hands than is good for me, fully aware that I probably should be doing a whole bunch of things, but not able to do them.  Or maybe there is nothing you can do at this stage?  And there's where the anxiety comes from.  Will I arrive on Sunday and realise I have forgotten something vital?  Or will everything be plain sailing right up to the point that Alan says/does whatever it is he says/does to start the ride?  You see - I can't even visualise how we start!

The uneasy feeling is a little like when you walk away from your car and then wonder whether you locked it or not.  Except in this case I can't just walk back and check.

It's not quite so bad at work where life has largely gone on as normal throughout - but with so many of us involved in the ride, every meeting or water cooler chat starts with a conversation about the training or the challenge.  "Are you ready?" "I'm not sure, but as ready as I'm going to be."  "Are you nervous?" "Well I wasn't, but with so many people asking that question I'm beginning to think I should be!!"

Our colleagues have been incredibly supportive with fund raising too, and with their help we reached our sponsorship target last week, so thanks to everyone who has supported us, and particularly to Sue, Neill and everyone who helped organise last weeks Poker Masters tournament.

This week is obviously about finishing off as many things as possible before I leave the office for two weeks.  It's making sure that everything is done, or handed over while I am away.  Not unlike what happens before you go on holiday, except there's a difference -the happy expectation that accompanies it and makes the stress worthwhile isn't there.  That's not to say I'm not looking forward to the ride, of course I am, but it doesn't quite give you the same tingle of excitement as knowing I'll be getting on a plane to some far flung exotic destination! 

Have you seen the accomodation???  This floor will be covered in 60 sleeping bags next week.

Instead, every day this week is feeling increasingly like how you feel when you wake up on the morning of an afternoon exam - that sense of impending doom looms ever larger and you just know that there is nothing else you can do in the next few hours that is likely to make a difference.  Even though it's daunting you'd rather just get on with it!

I guess I'm going to just have to put my faith in the assumption that all the hard work in getting to this point has been enough and will pay off, although I'm sure that won't prevent me using a large chunk of those extra hours trying to figure out exactly what else I could/should be doing to be even more prepared!!

Even though the week is dragging incredibly slowly, the weekend will be here soon enough and Dan, Lenny and I will be seeing the rest of the team off on Saturday morning as they start the adventure.  We're following on a day later - before we go we'll be there to see Alex and Shaena start their new adventure together.

Above everyone else, no doubt they can both empathise the most with my feelings right now, nerves rising, as their big day draws ever closer. 

I have to ask myself though, whether Alex is also being kept awake at night wondering how many tubes of chamois cream he'll be needing for the next two weeks??!!  :)