The Journey Ends

How did I get here?!!

I actually did it. I cycled all the way to Paris in 24-hours. I didn’t get swept up in the van (anyone too slow has to go in a car with the support crew for a stage), I didn’t fall off, I didn’t crumble into exhaustion and tears, and I even managed to overtake a number of men on the uphills (very proud of that!). I cannot express the relief that it’s over, and the pride at having done something tangible to help Eli, Emily and the other DMD families. So far I’ve personally raised more than £4,500 for Duchenne UK – and between us the Dashers are on £887,000 - a fantastic achievement and one that will make a real difference. Hopefully after the Dash Max and the Cheshire Dash, we’ll have made a million.

At the start with CP and the inspirational creators of
 Duchenne UK

How was it? Some of it was much better than I’d anticipated, some of it was as bad as I’d thought it would be. I had the advantage/disadvantage of having driven the course a number of times so nothing was too great a surprise – but idling up a hill in a car in the lowest gear behind forty huffing and puffing, tired cyclists is quite different to being one of those cyclists!

The relentlessness of the ride is pretty hard going. The stops are so, so short. They call them rest stops but there’s no resting – sometimes you’ll ride 50k and then just have 10 mins to refuel, use the loo, take on water and get back on the bike.  You get so hungry – 10 minutes just isn’t enough time to get the food on board. I was really conscious that those who suffer most are those who don’t get their calorie intake right. There’s a lot of food to eat which I would never normally have in my diet. I had my first Snickers bar in 20 years (I think it was a Marathon bar last time I ate one!)  I had forgotten just how good mini cheddars are. I am happy never to see a jelly baby or protein bar again. I barely ever eat bread – and rediscovered the joy of a good sandwich. The only downside of the high protein high carbohydrate diet is the dreadful wind... trumping my way through the picturesque fields of corn in northern France – still, I guess it’s all forward thrust!

I'll have the popcorn, crisps, fruit, chocolate, sandwiches, jelly beans, peanuts etc etc!

The first day – and indeed the first leg of the first day – is the most hardcore. It was 75k long, the longest section of the ride and had most of the biggest hills, through the South Downs. There was meant to be a very short loo break outside London but somehow we cycled right past it. Alright for the men who could use the “facilities” in the form of roadside hedges. Not so easy for the ladies. Also, cycling gear and the layers and layers of Lycra with zips and oddly placed pockets do not make for easy disrobing. As you arrive at a rest stop – the formidable ride director Emily Waring begins the countdown to you leaving – on more than one occasion I found myself in the loo with less than two minutes to go trying desperately to peel off the layers of sweaty Lycra knowing that there would be no impromptu hedge stops for me along the way. I was very concerned about having a Paula Radcliffe moment on the ride but happily avoided it. Apparently the answer is to not use gels which can have an explosive impact on your insides!

Dawn over Dieppe was an anticipated low point. Shivering with lack of sleep, we stood on already tired legs by the harbour side - knowing that we had to go through everything we’d done on the Friday again - twice over. A very daunting moment. I think the thing that really saw me through was treating it as seven mini rides rather than a whole ride. I concentrated on the chunk ahead of me each time, and the next ‘rest’ break. Looking too far ahead would have been overwhelming. There was one point – about 10am on the Saturday, with 150k behind me and 150 ahead when I had a think about how far I still had to go, and the emotions started welling up and I had to just thrust the fear back down and focus on the patch of tarmac right in front of me.

Made it - RP with L and A

Without doubt the best bit of the Dash is the camaraderie. Coming into Newhaven on the first day my legs just started losing their oomph and I began drifting further and further back down the peloton. And a feeling of hopelessness set in. This guy I’d never met before, Patch, drew up alongside me and began chatting about why we were both there, about cycling, life in general etc. And before I knew it, we were in Newhaven. I may have been cycling, but he totally got me there. You see it the whole time on the Dash, strangers – united only by the cause – helping each other out. Literally putting their hands on people’s backs and pushing them up hills. There were two lovely ladies riding at about the same pace as RP and I – Laura and Anna – with whom we chatted and joked quite a lot. They were an absolute pleasure to hang out with and made the miles fly. For me, the best of it all was hanging out with RP, who I love but never get to see enough of as we both lead very busy lives. In 24 hours you can catch up on a lot of chat. It was such a pleasure. She’s just that little bit fitter than me too, so when the darkness descended, she’d up the chat a bit and get me over the next hill (literally).

Cycling into Paris was wonderful (although tired bottoms suffered on the cobbles!) All the cyclists united so that we were in a peloton 160 riders thick. A sea of black and orange.  They closed the roads going into the centre of Paris for the ride so there was a stretch at the end where the Champs- Elysees was just black and orange Duchenne Dash jerseys from pavement to pavement.  CP – who’d been a ride captain in a different group – joined RP and I as we cycled round the Arc de Triomphe. It was a great moment.  In our midst were a number of dads of children with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy – some newly diagnosed – and the Dash’s first ever mum of a Duchenne child. I hope they felt cradled and buoyed by the love felt for them by the Dashers.

In terms of damage, my legs are black and blue – I stopped counting on one leg when I got to a dozen bruises. I ache from hip to toe three days on. I’m limping slightly - my right knee is properly sore. My right shoulder is quite painful. The heels of my hand are numb. And I can confirm that there was a certain amount of chafing, which stopped pretty much as soon as I got of the bike for the final time (a heavenly moment). But I’m properly proud of what I’ve achieved.  The day after the Dash I went to Eli’s grandmother’s birthday party. He sang – so beautifully - a solo of his favourite song, Wonderwall. It contains the words “Maybe, you’re gonna be the one to save me”.  And I thought that maybe each and every person who takes part in the Dash could be the one to save him.  I thought I hadn’t any tears left after the ride itself. Turns out I had more. I hope and pray that this Dash, and the money it raised, is the one to save him, and that he’ll be singing just as beautifully at his grandmother’s next significant birthday in 10 years’ time.

I’ve enjoyed writing this blog – I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. I hope to be on the support crew for the Dash next year if they’ll have me – I am very, very happy to retire from long distance cycling. If you haven’t sponsored me, it’s not too late!

https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/ClareRunacres

Please think of Duchenne UK for future fundraising. 

ACHIEVEMENTS

Learning to ride a road bike and cycling it to Paris in 24 hours

Being part of raising nearly 900-thousand pounds for Duchenne UK

AMBITIONS

Finding an effective treatment for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy

Glammed up for the Gala do

On the Eurostar home!

Dash Day

Dash day has finally come (thank god) – I, and about 160 others, are setting off today to cycle from London to Paris. To say it has been a challenge for me is an understatement. Learning to ride a road bike and building the fitness required to go the distance (hopefully) has been extremely tough, it’s been a big financial commitment (who knew all that aluminium and lycra was so expensive), and a big time commitment. Thank you to my family, friends and colleagues who have supported me through it. I feel scared of the pain that lies ahead, delighted that it’s nearly over, and proud to be part of an amazing event which will change lives.

Today has never been about me. Today is about my godson Eli and his mother Emily, and all the families who live every day with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. My ride ends in 24-hours time, tomorrow afternoon, when I hopefully arrive in one piece at the Eiffel Tower. For DMD families, all day every day is a challenge which far outweighs anything I do. 

I have watched what happens when a family learns for the first time about Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy.  I have watched my godson learn to play football, and I have watched him lose the ability to play football. I have watched him learn to climb stairs and I have watched him learn that he can no longer climb stairs. I have watched him understand little by little, as he is grows, how different he is from his peers.  I have watched his mother watching his growing realisation– and have held her as she fought against despair, listened as she’s struggled to try to come up with the words to explain to her son why there is no medicine that can fix his muscles. 

Duchenne UK – and the Duchenne Dash – are changing the future, for Eli and all families with DMD.  We’re hoping to raise a million pounds TODAY. The charity is amazing. It’s funding research, clinical trials, the doctors and nurses to deliver those trials and it’s lobbying the government and drugs companies to speed up the process for delivering drugs. I’m proud to represent the charity today, and I hope that I do them proud by actually getting to Paris. I will tweet updates @ ClareNews2  #DuchenneDash. Wish me luck! xxx

ACHIEVEMENTS

Getting to the start line

AMBITIONS

Getting to the finish line

Buttered Brown Shrimps and Coastal Wind

(NB - the ride is tomorrow, this was written last week)

For my last full week before the ride I went to Norfolk on holiday. I managed to fit in a three hour ride (with a little rest stop at a seafood shack for buttered brown shrimps on toast - yum), a two hour ride (with a short pub stop – cheating, but I was on holiday!) and a one hour ride. Who said Norfolk was flat? Probably the same person who claims the ride from Dieppe to Paris is flat!  I’d definitely class it as rolling countryside, with the emphasis on rolling. Good practice for the thighs though, and almost my last chance for decent length rides.

Riding in the countryside is so much nicer than London. If you remove the fear of the sudden opening of car doors in your path, the endless potholes and manhole covers, and the teetering at red lights – suddenly cycling becomes almost pleasant! It also meant I could unclench my fingers from the brakes and put my hands on the central part of the handlebars which eased some of the pressure on my wrists and arms.  I inadvertently added extra protein to my ride, however, by swallowing a few midges along the way. Must remember to keep my mouth shut while cycling! And I must learn to lift my eyes from the road and take in the scenery. Norfolk has very pretty countryside and some lovely villages but my eyes were constantly glued to the road looking for danger. I must make time on the ride to Paris to soak up the scenery.

Norfolk was disappointingly cold and windy. Riding in gusty strong winds is no mean feat. I hadn’t realised how much protection from the wind you get from hedges until I started cycling past some patchy, scraggly ones – in the areas without sufficient foliage you get a proper cross blast of cold hard air wobbling you off centre. The coast road itself had little protection and it was much harder work pushing up the rolling hills into an on shore wind.  But it got me thinking about the weather for the ride itself. Every time I set out in different conditions I say to myself – I hope it’s not snowy/raining/windy/bakingly hot like this on the actual ride. Ideally I would like dry, no wind, cloud cover (I’m rubbish in the sun), warm (but not hot) conditions. Keep your fingers crossed for me! It’s less than a week until ride day.

CP tucking into brown shrimps on toast

CP says I’m match ready for the Dash! It’s all in the mind. He also reminded me that I'll burn 6000 calories in one day which means I can fill my face all the way through the ride, and for several days before (to be fair, I've been putting in some practice on the calorie consumption front, my appetite has really grown doing all this cycling!). The Dash is so close now, I am elated and terrified in equal measures.

AMBITIONS

To drink from my water bottle without slowing to a snail’s pace

ACHIEVEMENTS

Holding the middle bit of the handlebars

I'M JUST £250 SHORT OF MY FUNDRAISING TOTAL - PLEASE SPONSOR ME IF YOU CAN

Foggy Glasses and Nasal Secretions

So, D-Day (Dash day) is fast approaching. When facing moments of extreme stress in my life I find it easiest to focus on the small and insignificant details rather than the big scary picture. Luckily in cycling there’s a lot of kit to focus on to take my mind away from the monumental task around the corner. This week’s kit irritation has been my glasses. Sweating my way up and down the stupidly big hill near my house, as I click down the gears, peddling furiously, inching my way up the stupidly high incline and approaching the top, my see-through cycling glasses invariably fog up. So I’m literally cycling blind up a narrow, twisting, vertiginous path with a line of not-so-patient cars and buses snaking below me. I’m so tired that I am beyond embarrassment or fear.  There’s no way on earth I can pause or stop to clear my glasses because every fibre of my being is being used to keep me upright and moving. I reach the top, panting and mildly hysterical in my own foggy world where I can literally just see my hands on the handlebars and the metre of road in front of me.  Perhaps a blessing in disguise?  

Mountain biker Clare with visor

Road cycling Clare with hat

As I creep up the hill and the fog descends I contemplate how I seem to be the only person with foggy glasses. I had a plastic visor on the top of my cycling helmet when I bought it, but when I did the Brighton ride and arrived at the top of Ditchling Beacon all fogged up once again, someone rather snootily pointed out that only mountain bikers (that wild and mutinous, muddy breed) need the visors and road cyclists (the race horses of the road) don’t countenance plastic visors  so I ditched it. I thought it might improve the fog – but it has, sadly, lingered. I wonder if I have the wrong eyebrows for cycling. I may have inherited my grandfather’s rather fabulous wise-owl brow-set, which could be contributing to the fogging. Not something I can do much about!

One by-product of cycling I hadn’t anticipated is nasal secretions. I have had a cold recently and this has made it spectacularly worse. On long rides, or early in the morning, I develop a perpetual drip on the end of my generously proportioned nose. This became a veritable sticky slick with the onset of my cold. That added to the blossom and pollen being shed from trees this time of year, I’m a picture to behold on my bike rides. The cycling gloves come with a patch of absorbent material on the outside around the base of the thumb, which I’m told is the makeshift cyclist handkerchief – and which I have been using. But I noticed with some alarm on the Brighton ride the number of people snot-firing nostrils while in motion from their bike seats. A dangerous procedure for the unpractised to perform, and dangerously unpleasant for those who follow behind in their firing lines. Not a practice I intend to emulate.

I cycled to my local hospital for an appointment this week and didn’t want to take my road bike as I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave it somewhere secure, so I dusted off my old bike. It’s a single speed bike which, for those as ignorant as myself about cycling issues, means it doesn’t have any gears. It also doesn’t have drop handlebars or cleated pedals – BLISS! The bike isn’t fitted to me in the same way as my giraffe road bike so I slid around the saddle a lot more.  But wider handlebars meant there was less pressure on my wrists. The heavier bike felt more stable. And no cleats and a lower seat meant I felt so much more in control and much less anxious stopping at lights. I’m feeling more and more inclined to retire my road bike at the end of the Dash. Just days left to go – but still £550 short of my target – please sponsor me!

ACHIEVEMENTS

still cycling!

AMBITIONS

to stick at it til the ride on June 8th!

Morphing into a MAWIL

Reading the news in cleats

The elation of Brighton wore off quite quickly, but left me feeling a lot more hopeful about the ride to Paris. There are no hills like Ditchling Beacon to contend with thankfully – just hours and hours more cycling than I’ve ever done!

I’m still struggling to "make the drop". Apparently cycling downhill on the lower part of the handlebars is safer. For me, it’s faster (a big drawback for a nervous cyclist), and my reach is compromised so I struggle to grasp the brakes effectively (also a big drawback for a nervous cyclist). I’ve bought a new bit of slightly silly cycling equipment which might help with it – fingerless gloves.

A friend of mine didn’t recognise me as I sped past on the bike in padded big shorts, a cycling top with back pockets, and fingerless cycling gloves – I’m morphing into a MAMIL or MAWIL. The gloves have gel blocks built into the heel and bridge of the hand. I’m not convinced they do anything but CP insists they’re a must (sigh). Maybe they will help me with the sharp pains I’m experiencing up my arms – which are, perhaps, a sort of cycling RSI. Speaking to other cyclists they suggest I’m just hanging on for dear life too tightly and I need to relax my arms and take the weight off them. Easier said than done!

In my cycling I’m finding it challenging to balance efficiency and fear. I know that an efficient ride will make the journey to Paris much easier, but I hate hurtling down hill at speed so I don’t do “the drop”, and spend much of the downhill pulling on the brakes. On the flat CP has been trying to teach me to ride peloton style which is basically right up the bum of the cyclist in front. This means you benefit from their air stream and it takes less effort. But you really need to trust the rider and the roads. By which I mean -  trust that the rider in front isn’t going to suddenly swerve or break, which means relying on roads not to have potholes, dodgy manholes  or detritus on their surfaces. CP says the rider in front will do the cycling-hand-movements the MAMIL packs so love, to warn of any upcoming issues, so I can concentrate on staying close to their back wheel.  I’m just not a team player - I want to see clear road ahead of me and make my own mind up if it’s safe to ride.

Support from my colleagues by way of a personalised self ident to the news

Time is running out. It’s just over a fortnight til the ride. The end is in sight! I have a twinge in one knee, pains up my arms, and my legs are covered in bruises and oil from the cleats and chain. I just have to hope that no body part gives under the pressure before the ride.  I saw a reassuring/not reassuring at all tweet from one of the Dash doctors of the piles of medical equipment, pills and lotions ready for the ride. Hope I won’t need them!

 A big thank you to everyone who has sponsored me. I'm three quarters of the way to my target. If you can, please donate to my webpage!

ACHIEVEMENTS my first attempt at peloton riding

AMBITIONS to do the drop

Ditchling Beacon on a Penny Farthing

I went for a bike fit this week, in preparation for the Pearson Sportive from London to Brighton. THEY RAISED THE BIKE SEAT AGAIN. Why is it every time you go into a bike shop they want to raise the seat? I feel like I’m riding a penny farthing. They raised the handlebars too which has really helped diminish the shoulder pain I’d been experiencing on one side.  I am now balancing on the tip of the nails of my big toes at lights. And as well as raising the handlebars and seat, they tipped the seat back a bit making it even harder to get to get off it and onto the ground. The guy at the shop said I have to learn how to unclip my cleats at the top of the pedal stroke and come off my saddle and step my foot flat on the ground when I stop, leaving the second foot clipped in for a quick getaway. I had a go on the way home and ended up a tangled mess of legs, pedals and bike on the pavement of a mercifully quiet residential street.

Me and CP at start of the Brighton Pearson Sportive

The London to Brighton Pearson sportive set off from Sutton in south London which involved a 5.15 am start as I live nowhere near it. Anything that means I have to be up before 9 am cannot be classified as leisure in my book – but the place was already teeming with people when we got there who clearly enjoy a different definition of leisure time.  It was my first experience of an organised bike ride (apart, of course, from the Dash at which I have volunteered for a number of years).  We got wristbands to record split times (people take this cycling lark very seriously) and had to ride through an inflatable chequered arch at the beginning and end. CP very kindly agreed to cycle at my pace and guide me through the ride, and we were joined by the lovely Jude, a fellow Dash volunteer and debutante Dash rider. She was wearing arm socks! I’m tempted to get some for the very early start in Dieppe on the Dash, but I’m really trying to resist buying cycling junk I’m never going to use again.

One of the best things about the ride was breakfast. They put on a food stop at Turners Hill. Breakfast consisted of jelly babies, haribo sours, flapjacks, chocolate cake, sausage rolls, crisps, peanuts and fruit!! Awesome. It was like being at a kids birthday party. People ask me if I’ve lost weight training for the Dash. The answer is not really, because every time you set off somewhere someone’s forcing you to eat flapjacks or down a protein shake, and thrusting a handful of sweets at you. Guilt free junk food – amazing.

The worst thing about the ride was without doubt Ditchling Beacon. Brighton is ringed by some very high hills. The road up to DB is roughly the same gradient at Mont Ventoux and is just short of a mile in length.  It wiggles and winds, and opens out intermittently to fantastic views which give you the false hope that you might be nearing its apex, before curling away again, round and up, higher and higher. It is a lonely old ride, spinning away in the lowest gear, with only the growl of a prowling impatient car stuck behind you for company. But I made it! And it was like heaven appearing out of the heavily wooded winding narrow road into the bright sunshine of the top and seeing the open rolling hills beyond down to the sea.  I think I may have been a little oxygen starved by the time I got to the top because everything looked wonderful – from the verges thick with buttercups and cow parsley, to the fluffy cloud sheep in the verdant fields, to the misty sea in the distance. It was a sweet moment.

Me and Jude exhausted but relieved at the top of Ditchling Beacon

ACHIEVEMENTS

Cycling to Brighton!

AMBITIONS

To raise my 4-grand, I’m two thirds of the way there – please sponsor me!

Giraffe Bike

I started the week feeling dispirited in the wake of the 100km ride. Particularly as the nice people at Pearson’s bike shop told me I’d invested my hard earned cash on a bike that was the wrong size for me. One way round it (that doesn’t involve buying a whole new bike) is to get a new longer seat post which I did. I am now in possession of a bike masquerading as a giraffe...

My giraffe bike

.....It looks pretty foolish, but on the upside I think I have more oomph going up hills (which god knows I need). It feels vertiginous and has thrown off my balance a bit. I have to teeter ballerina- like on the points of my shoes at lights. Now I understand why all those Mamils head for the kerbs  and balance one foot on them. I’m getting some pains in one side of my neck after longer rides which I’m hoping a bike fit will sort out.  And aching knees – which I fear will only be resolved when I officially retire from cycling in just over four weeks time after  we roll into Paris.

I made it for one three hour ride this week, and another 2 hour one. The longer one was thanks to Marcus who did the Dash last year and who kindly led RP and I along the canals of east London out into more open countryside. In theory it should have been a beautiful ride but the tracks by the canals are pretty busy in parts and bumpy, and I was very worried about falling into the water with a bike strapped to my feet. One day I will lift my eyes from the road and start taking in the countryside.

I am struggling a bit with the psychological angst of training. However far I go, I know it’s a drop in the ocean compared to how far I have to go in June, which makes me feel stressed and depressed. Every ride I do I just want to be over, but feel terribly guilty when I stop because I know I should be training harder.

I think I’m getting better at changing gears. I used to make that ‘ripping up a tin can’ kind of noise quite frequently, but it’s much less often now – I think I’ve found the point in the revolution of the pedal which makes the gear change smoother. Hooray – small victories.

Next week’s training ride is  London to Brighton (gulp). Wish me luck. Or better still, sponsor me!

ACHIEVEMENTS

My first spin class

AMBITIONS

To defeat the Devils Dyke

https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-display/showROFundraiserPage?userUrl=ClareRunacres&pageUrl=4

100km on the clock

Last weekend I took part in a Dash training ride -- 100km to Gatwick and back from south London. I had proper palpitations from nerves drawing up to Pearson’s bike shop at the start. I’m way out of my comfort zone with this long distance cycling thing, and am terrified that I don’t have it in me. This was my first serious test.

The fellow Dashers were very welcoming. There were about a dozen of us – a mixture of returners and newbies like me.  There was a wide age and ability range which was reassuring. We split into two groups, with RP and I and a number of others in the slower group, and set off.

Ride captains led each group, with more at the back of the pack to encourage the slower cyclists and help out with any bike issues. They were very helpful when my chain fell off for some reason about two thirds of the way round! I am clueless about bike mechanics and I’m not sure mid-Dash is the time to learn so it’s great riding with knowledgeable people.  It was also a real relief not to have to think about where I was going, and just follow the pack.

Still smiling - but only just

How was the ride? It was really, really hard. The good news is that I had no bottom bone pain (either I have a really comfortable saddle, or my natural attributes provide sufficient padding). I forgot to put any chamois cream on, but it turns out I didn’t need any. But pretty much everything else hurt by the end.

It started pretty flat, and you could cycle and chat to other Dashers, and for a while I thought there might be the chance that I could enjoy the ride to Paris in just over a month’s time. I kept up pretty well with everyone until the route started to get hilly.  CP kept shouting at me from the back to change down gears to make riding the inclines easier, but every time you shift down you see people in higher gears just speed ahead into the distance which is really disheartening.  Grinding through the pain of the uphills is pretty relentless and unpleasant. I’m told we were cycling through bluebell woods, but I barely lifted my eyes off the tarmac.  Then after the incline came the descent. While my tired thighs loved the break, going downhill had its own challenges. If I could have closed my eyes I would have done, as I found it pretty nerve-wracking belting down England country lanes at high speed.

It was a particularly cold (8C) and grey day, and I still haven’t worked out what’s best to wear. I had on a long and short sleeved cycling tops over my bib tights and a lightweight waterproof coat. I was sweltering on the uphills, but freezing on the long downhills as the wind evaporated the sweat.  Hopefully it won’t be that cold in June – but with the vagaries of the England summer who knows!

I had bought three muesli bars and a banana to eat on the way round. Turns out that cycling long distances makes you feel STARVING. I’d eaten all of it by the time I was two thirds of the way round. I’ve got to pack out my cycling top pockets with food next time. Luckily, on the Dash itself, each stop is fantastically well stocked with food and drink.

By the end (four hours in), every little incline knocked the wind out of me.  Our group became stretched out, and it became harder and harder for me to stay with the pack. I just fixed my eyes on the red light on the person in front’s bike and peddled and peddled, but boy it was hard. The ride has shown me just how far I still have to go. I have so much work to do in the next five weeks. Both in terms of fitness and strength. It’s pretty disheartening. But I got round – and that’s all I have to do at the event itself. I’m not going to win points for style. But I don’t want to – I just want to raise bundles of money to help Eli and his family. So, put a smile back on my face and please sponsor me if you haven’t – I’m only half way to reaching my total!

ACHIEVEMENTS

100km on a bike!!!!!

AMBITIONS

To cycle uphill without wanting to cry

To cycle downhill without wanting to scream

Thumb Strain

I had a heart stopping moment this week when the email came through to say that it’s 8 weeks until the ride. EIGHT WEEKS – aargh! I cannot believe that I can possibly cycle to Paris in 24 hours. I don’t feel in the slightest bit ready.  My longest ride to date is about 2 hours. I’ve signed up for a Dash Ride next  weekend – 100km – 4 to 5 hours (I’m pretty sure I’ll be in the 5 hour bracket). Everyone talks about toughening up your bum bones – this will be my chance.

My bike had a 6 week check up. They tightened up the gears a bit, They cleaned my disc brakes in an effort to stop them squeaking (which failed – but increasingly I think squeaky brakes are a good idea as it acts as an early warning system to any stray pedestrians). And they TIGHTENED MY CLEATS. I didn’t realise this until I cycled off and stopped at my first set of lights and had a serious wobble as I struggled to click out. I was overwhelmed with that same claustrophobic, crushing sense of fear that I had when I first got the road bike. It was awful. I returned to the shop and they showed me how to ease off the cleat a bit, so now I can adjust  then at will. And, on the new skills front, I am proud to report that I managed to eat a muesli bar while on the move!  The key to it is to cut the top off before you set off for the ride, so all you have to do is cram it into your mouth rather than try to bite through the plastic covering with your teeth.

RP and I are both struggling a little with the handlebars. We both bought women’s bikes, but it’s a real stretch reaching from the handlebars to the brakes. It would be alright if we were brave enough to hold onto the handlebars without hovering over the brakes – but that takes confidence we haven’t yet acquired. I had expected aching thighs and sore knees, but thumb strain has been an unexpected addition to the list!

ACHIEVEMENTS

Learning how to tighten/loosen cleats

AMBITIONS

To smile while cycling

To lift my eyes from the road and look around me

Wobbly Water Drinking

It’s been tough getting back into training after a week off.  The first couple of days back have been a  real slog. I feel heavy and sluggish after my cheese-heavy holiday. However, no one said this would be easy --  I have only myself to blame for signing up for the Dash.  And my own small personal sacrifice reminds me that every push of the pedal is for children and families with Duchenne who deal with much harder issues than I ever have to.

I am pleased to report that a major hurdle has been passed – I have managed to drink from my water bottle without stopping my bike. It was a nervewracking experience – particularly for the car behind watching with trepidation my wobbly and very slow progress as blindly felt for the bottle and raised it nervously to my lips. It’s a small but important step on my Dash journey! Next stop, trying to eat an energy bar on the move.

I have been on my longest ride yet – an 1 hour 40 minute going round and around a central London park with my bestie and fellow Duchenne Dash newbie RP. Apart from the windburn we received from the packs of skinny MAMILs zooming past us at speed it was a pleasant experience.  As the durations of the rides creep up, I’m discovering new aches and pains. For the first time I’m getting bum bone pain, and have been discussing the merits or not of changing to a gel saddle. I have yet to suffer the chafing that leads to the inevitable use of chamois cream, I’m clearly not cycling hard enough yet. I will keep you posted.

CP bought me a present - see through glasses. I fear this might be the first of a long list of slightly silly cycling equipment I may end up owning.  They look idiotic, but are really useful , particularly in the rain. Next stop arm skins?

 ACHIEVEMENTS

I can drink from a water bottle while moving – very slowly and wobbling a lot

AMBITIONS

Eating on the move

Standing up peddling

Using the bottom bit of the handlebars (CP says they’re called ‘the drops’)

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Training (!) in the Alps

This week I have mainly been laying down a sub-cutaneous layer of fat for the Dash by eating hearty cheese and potato based mountain food in France, swilling it back with the local wine, and occasionally sliding down slopes inelegantly on skies. 

On the plus side, it turns out thet the muscles you use for skiing are basically the same as those for cycling. My newly acquired muscle mass has paid off and I skied harder than I have in years.

On the down side, I’m two kilos heavier (but much happier) than I was at the start of the week.

The joy of padded leggings

Week 2 of my training and I’m proud to say I’ve achieved a first for me — cycling seven days in a row, one in light snow. They have mainly been my 25 minute commute, but I’ve done one ride of an hour, and another of an hour of a half. My aim is to work up to doing two rides a week of three hours, but that feels a long way off. Trying to find circuits in London with any length of riding in them is a bit challenging. Not much training in standing at red lights — although I will say it does give me cleat practice. What I have discovered is that even though I am much better at de-cleating my right foot, it is a rather pointless skill to have learnt as in London everyone de-cleats their left at lights, and waits with their foot up on the pavement. Either that or they do that silly, balancing dance thing where they refuse to de-cleat at all and get up on their pedals and wobble incrementally forward, playing what looks like a game of chicken with the lights. That is one dance I have no intention of taking part in.

My cycle partner (CP) was right about my cleats. The shop loosened my left one and it is now much easier to get it in and out. They also tightened up my gears which had been slipping. CP stopped me on a bike ride at the weekend and gave me a stern talking to about moving into the second cog (or is it the first?!) when going up steep hills so I can use more lower (or is it higher) gears. Me confused much - not at all.


The biggest news of the week is that I have bought Borat style padded leggings. I have never had leggings with a padded seat before — took me right back to the years before the invention of Always (a reference for the girls there). What with the clacky, shoes and the padded crotch - when not on my bike but kitted up I am now walking like some hybrid between a ballerina on points and a two year old with a full nappy. It’s a good look. I guess the nappy pants trousers come into their own when I start doing long distances.

Me in my nappy pants trousers

On the plus side I have bought a water bottle and fixed it to my bike. On the negative side, I’m still too wobbly to reach down and drink it while cycling. But I’m doing a good line in annoying drivers by stopping to drink at lights and missing the lights turning green. Given how much drivers, particularly taxi drivers annoy/terrify me I get a little vindictive thrill about irritating them in this manner.

What I’ve learned this week:

It’s not pleasant to cycle in the snow
padded shorts make you waddle

Achievements:

Getting out on my bike for short distances.
I am no longer actively terrified of the cleats - just a bit claustrophobic, with occasional waves of panic.

Ambitions:

Moving between the cogs on my handlebars.
Going on longer rides.
Enjoying cycling.

Me volunteering on the 2017 Dash

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And so it begins

So, less than three months to go, and I’ve finally taken possession of my first road bike so I can ride this year’s Duchenne Dash. I say just - what I mean is I got it last week, after wrangling with my employer’s bike-to-work scheme for 6 weeks, and then was laid low with flu. I blame the post flu-wobbles for the fact that I fell off it on my first ride. The second time, I had no such excuse. I thought cleats were likely to be a pretty horrible experience, and I have been proved right! De-cleating while braking eludes me. I guess it’s a bit like patting your head and rubbing your tummy; it takes time and practice. Also for some reason, I can only get the action right on my right foot. Luckily I have discovered that you can go quite a distance without your feet locked in — it feels a bit like skating in shoes, but you still cover ground!

I went for my first non-commuter ride this weekend with my Cycle Partner Mike. He has done the Dash 5 times and therefore has a wealth of knowledge to impart — or ‘mansplain’. This weekend’s lesson mainly focused on the gears. I’ve been riding a single speed bike on my commute so I’m pretty clueless about these. I was genuinely shocked when I realised I had to shift the handlebars to change gears - who knew?! He was a bit frustrated that I couldn't tell whether the little paddle or the big handlebar shifter goes up or down, and kept accelerating away into the distance while I span my legs round and round in a wholly inappropriate gear. I nearly got off and walked when he revealed there was a whole second cog for me to contend with.

Achievements this week:

I can change gears at the back wheel
I can cleat in my right foot

Homework:

cleating in my left foot
using the gears at the pedals
taking my hands off the handle bars (surprisingly scary at this stage of the game)
drinking water while cycling
learning to enjoy riding a road bike

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my new bike, it will never look this clean again ...