Duchenne Dash Diary: 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