Day 8 and 9

Day 8 - as incident free as it's ever going to be with me. Only one punctured tyre and perhaps a few too many layers are the only downside. With this my mechanical bill goes up to £200 for this trip and I have entered the top ten spenders on the ride. At least I'm ranked high at something here.

Rebook flights, a transfer to Inverness and a hotel so we can coast on day 9. The end is in sight, just need to keep it together for day 9.

Day 9 - set off in the dark and rain, both Louise and I are in a rubbish mood. Everyone and everything is annoying us, especially people shouting "on your right". The 20 mile uphill stretch goes on and on and I think boredom has well and truly set in.

To break up the monotony I pull up to relieve myself, by now undertaken while perched on my stationary bike in pretty much full view of anyone unfortunate enough to look. I am tired and fail to notice the different road surface on the side road, the fact is it wet, that I'm going too fast and break as I turn. On cue my bike slips from under me and I get hurled across the road. Next thing I go ballistic screaming and roaring fu*k this ride, fuc* this day, f*ck this bike...and on and on all the while kicking my floored bicycle.

Eventually Louise tells me to get a grip and I think I have broken my toe so was stopping the bike abuse anyway, walk to the side of the road and angrily pee. Then I don't speak to anyone for the next 45 miles.

I also make the mistake of eating two Ginster cheese and ham pies at the second pit stop after which I am far too bloated to cycle and all the blood rushes to my stomach. More petulant cycling with Louise about a mile behind our group...until someone shouts 5 miles.

5 miles to go - Louise and I take off the unnecessary rain jackets and begin speeding past all the people that have overtaken us.

4 miles to go - I throw my newly bought winter gloves into the fields, we are motoring.

3 miles to go - we have caught our group and are riding at the front pushing all the people previously riding at the front to the back.

2 miles to go - we have one dextrose tablet as we are now quite tired again but refuse to come off the front. We can smell the ocean. Truth is we have been cycling by the ocean for hours.

1 mile to go - it dawns on us that we are so close to finishing this. Before we know it we are over the finishing line, have a medal, a photo with the sign, have packed our bikes and are waiting for the transfer to Inverness. Ride. Across. Britain. Done.

The reality of what we have just finished is yet to sink in and it feels a bit like the anti climax after completing an exam. It turns out I'm in the bottom 12 cyclists to have made it through and Louise is about 6 places higher up. I'm numb both emotionally and physically, I'm glad it's over and can safely say I went though hell in the first 6 days. I'm not sure I am in love with cycling but that doesn't really matter now, I've somehow smuggled my way through this and after all I did 10 miles more than anyone.

I also win the final falling competition between me and Louise 4:3 so that's nice.

Driving back to Inverness in a car feels somewhat weird and far too fast. The sensation of sleeping in a bed and changing my clothes while standing is equally novel, as is the sight of my full body in a mirror. I realise that I'm in a state of shock and this may take some time to wear off, my head feels strangely empty.

Tomorrow I travel back to London, rest for a bit and in a week will begin my boxing career. I'll just have to buy some equipment and gear...

Over and out.

Day 5

Writing the blog retrospectively, I have to jog my memory by recalling what went wrong on the particular day, not something that is hard to do in respect of day 5.

Having added 10 additional miles the day before we were keen to have an incident free ride. Pouring rain, freezing conditions, and Wigan, what could go wrong?

1) we didn't have appropriate rain jackets and were shivering and shaking half an hour into our ride.

2) we didn't have long fingered gloves, who needed those?

3) neither of us owned leg warmers, I'm not sure we knew what those were.

The first 20 miles were spent looking out for cycle shops and shadow boxing at red lights to keep warm. Miserable.

Eventually we found a halfords with a typically terrible selection of cycling gear and kitted ourselves out. 45 minutes added to our trip but at least we were warm.

Then a 45 minute wait at the first pit stop and we were picked up by a sweeper chaperone that chased us to the second pit stop. Rest day officially over.

The final stage was a 8 mile hill over the lake district followed by the promise of 20 miles downhill to the finish.

Louise went ahead and I found a Evans cycle store where I spent a bit more money on leg warmers, proceeded to tackle the hill and then hit a complete wall as the way down was into 40 mile head wind. My final two recollections of the last 20 miles are of me in a pub being fed a full fat coke and pork scratchings then of me lying in my tent in a heap with the medic putting a tin foil blanket on me and telling me to check in with her in half an hour.

Half an hour later, 3 packets of jelly babies down and some degree of respectability restored I got on with the after ride routine made all the worse by a waterlogged site.

On a happier note it's worth mentioning another rider that we see and hear a lot of. David Horsley signed up with us and has been annoyingly fast at taking this up. What's more,

his cycling gear is quite stylish. All in all Louise and I look like amateur amateurs compared to him, so from the both of us thanks for that. To be fair he is terrible at one thing and that is keeping a constant pace when leading our group. If you know him or come across him please ask how hard the whole thing was for him given he stayed in a hotel as many nights as he camped, he hasn't heard it from me enough.

Thank you to mrs Horsley who kindly bought me Dioralyte which may have saved me. Never thought I'd be so happy to see Dioralyte. Who knew.

Day 7

Stage 7 of our little bike ride could have been filmed and packaged as any number of reality tv shows, soaps or thrillers. Here would be a general outline of the script, all of this is true.

Characters:
Louise - surprisingly good cyclist
Tommy - injured champion in waiting
Stuart - chaperone and group leader
Brian - American cycling enthusiast
Dave Horsley - the non camper
Various other people

Scene 1 the night before- at the rider briefing

Storm clouds gather as organisers explain that the stage has been lengthened to 134 miles from 127 and they would be doing all they can to get as many people safely through. Camera pans to Louise's face - showing signs of fear.

Next shot of Tommy the cycling prodigy who has missed every rider briefing, huddled in his tent literally soiling his thermal long johns at the prospect of the rain and wind currently battering his tent.

Scene 2 the morning of the long one

4am start, wind still causing tense background noise. Main protagonists sit silently trying to eat breakfast in a marquee filled with nervous riders. Tommy looks remarkably fresh as he has figured out a way of relieving bladder and not leaving tent. Flashback to the method highly optional- may mean adult rating for tv show.

Scene 3 - the morning crash

Everyone choosing to ride in groups. Really dangerous given our group is not experienced at this and neither are we. Drama as person in front of Louise breaks suddenly and her wheel touches, sending her crashing badly. (slow motion shot of this) Tears everywhere but the nature of the day means we have to continue, so as a whole, the group are quite cold to her fall. Audience should be left slightly angry by the lack of emotion in fellow riders.

Scene 4 miles 39-65

Already cycled for 4 hours and still have over 100 to go. Tommy starts hitting a real low, struggling to maintain the pace set by the the usually affable Stuart. Tommy shouts that he can't keep up. Camera pans to Stuart who shows hears the shouts but can do nothing as he has been briefed to keep the pace very high. Audience begins to warm to Tommy as well.

Scene 5 the windy pass

Against relentless winds the group is split up. Cycling has long stopped being fun and Tommy is actually crying, cursing and wondering if this is really happening (voice over appropriate).

He takes to having a obscene amount of toilet breaks to mask the fatigue. After cycling back to Louise each time he finds 8 larger and stronger men sitting behind her using her as a pace maker. This is the equivalent of looking out for yourself at the detriment of others. Cue a flood of obscene swearing and telling the train that they can go f**k themselves if they think she should be the pace maker riding in to the wind. Tommy follows this up with a plea for a few of them to take over at which point they accelerate away. Only one person helps Tommy and Louise. Cameo by Marco who sat in front of us taking the wind during one of our lowest points, thank you. Thank you also to Brian (more about him later) and Mike who helped us get trough some of the toughest climbs and wind affected sections by slowing to our pace and letting us sit behind them. The scenes of us cycling against the wind would be shot in one take with the camera continuously moving further and further away from us at the front. These need to show the moments that we were both too low to pick each other up, the times when you have to reach so far inside yourself and you cry at the sheer frustration and fatigue and fact that you still have 70 miles to go. Luckily the wind dries tears very quickly.

Scene 6 the comeback

After having to stop through exhaustion, Louise, Tommy and Mike have a team talk and agree to work together, to do this, vow to finish and keep going. Something like the chariots of fire theme tune plays in the background. Slowly pedal by pedal they catch up with the main group on the climb and as the descent begins the wind dies down and for the first time in 85 miles of cycling they don't need to pedal against the wind and can take a break. Tommy cries again as it seems that maybe they can make it.

Scene 7 superman

The penultimate pit stop has been passed and the riders are feeling buoyant. 35 miles to go and jokes are being made as we go up the last big hill of the day. Part way up other riders have stopped by a sign to take photos, Tommy shouts 'stopping is for losers' as a joke and fails to notice his own group slowing. Next shot is of him flying in the style of superman, over his handle bars, over Louise's bike, hands first onto the road and into the back wheel of two other riders. Luckily Tommy gets up but Brian's back wheel is dented.

Flashback to Brian's mechanical problems in the week, he has had his fair share and his face is a mixture of why me and I will kill this boy. To avoid this Tommy quickly suggest Brian takes his back wheel (luckily the same) so he can go on. The group continue leaving Stuart the chaperone and Tommy waiting for the mechanics and probably the broom bus.

Scene 8 the second comeback

Thankfully the mechanics arrive and fix the back wheel, mainly by standing on it. They say to nurse it the last 30 miles and motivational music begins to play in the background.

Tommy- "Stuart should I just get in the bus?"
Stuart - "have you been holding anything in reserve this week?"
Tommy (lying) - "yes a bit"
Stuart (almost gleefully) - "you are going to suffer"

And suffer Tommy does. 18 of the last 30 miles ride at a pace that was in the region of 15-17 miles per hour. Keep in mind my average is 11-12. Shot of Tommy's grimaced face as he throws everything at staying on Stuart's wheel. Just for fun Stuart makes Tommy and another straggler, Ben, lead out a sprint train in the last 5 mile uphill section.

Final scene- the comedown

Having been to the mechanic tent to buy Brian a new wheel and re-claim his, Tommy runs into Louise at the food tent. Both have a hollow, glazed look, neither says much if anything. It should be clear to viewers that this has broken them, that today was the day they didn't and couldn't have trained for but that somehow they got through, all on their bike and that they were never picked up by the bus. Neither says sleep well as they leave, there is no need.

Credits...

A huge if not impossibly large thank you to Stuart whose calmness kept me composed after my crash and got me home, to Louise for having the energy to encourage me when she clearly had none for herself, to everyone who wasn't a tool and to anyone who just ignored my tears.

Day 6

Day 6

Not much to say really, as expected I'm fairly slow but at least I haven't fallen off my bike. I have a new cycling group and it really did make all the difference. Mainly as they go at my speed which means they have to listen to my jokes. Today we entered Scotland and I'm happy to say it was boring with me just following the wheel of the person in front of me for 66 of the 100 miles. But boring is a good thing following the adventures of the last two days. More to follow but to paint a picture of day 5: it ended with the medic placing a foil blanket over me in my tent as I was lying in the foetal position trying to eat jelly babies. I have attached a photo of the said blanket. Runningimp is a funny name in retrospect.

There is good news in that I only have 3 days left, the less ideal news is that tomorrow is our longest day, extended to 134 miles because of a mudslide. Currently my tent is flapping around in what can only be described as a storm and to make matters more interesting this wind is forecast to remain for tomorrow.

This makes me so angry I'm going to cycle through Scotland harbouring every possible stereotype.

My primary objective in the next few days is to practice my Scottish accent on the locals. I have numerous scots in my cycling group, all of them had to hear how much I hated cycling and what I thought of cycling in their country.

Luckily one of my Scottish colleagues gifted me a crib sheet of Scottish lingo. Being the culturally sensitive man I am, Here are the most appropriate.

Howzitgaunchief? - Apparently means how are things with you this fine day.

Yer like a hauf shut knife - supposedly means you are looking a trifle fatigued. How apt.

On yer bike pal - it's time for you to leave now.

Stoatin aff the grun so it is - the rain is torrential and bouncing off the ground.

In other news, I'm again sleeping at a racecourse, earlier I was prancing around the pre viewing area (uncertain of correct technical name for this). I include a picture of my tent and one not so far away that has been dislodged by the wind and me "borrowing" a few pegs to anchor mine.

Now both my knees are hurting every time I peddle. Slightly unfortunate given I need to do quite a bit of that.







Sent from my iPad

Day 4

Writing this blog makes you realise how slowly the days go by, it's only day 4.

So funny story...day 3 was meant to be a rest day but I went at it too hard once again. Luckily day 4 could be a rest day where we take it easy and conserve energy. One little climb in the morning and then fairly flat for the rest of it.

Turns out I was severely dehydrated yesterday and the days before, hence my nausea. To remedy this I drank far too much, which in turn causes mainly logistical nightmares. Getting out of the tent to use the toilet 4 times a night, finding a suitable spot to urinate in every five minutes, does Louise wait or cycle slowly for me to catch up, for example. Turns out you can't pee in villages, or behind cars or even on some fields. Some farmer shouted "oi don't p*ss on my field". Luckily I was already on my bike and shouted back "well don't farm on my toilet". Matter settled, then I fell off my bike.

Anyway I digress. The funny story, about today being a rest day is that Louise and I chose to make a detour and add 10 miles to our overall trip. Our journey, if I manage to complete it, will be lands end to John o groats via a dual carriage way full of trucks and a typhoon of a head wind. All in all, energy well spent.

In other news my knee is in agony but the physiotherapist is beautiful, so every cloud. I got a puncture but was saved by one of the chaperones who actually knew what he was doing. Hard to even pretend you are in control of things when you aren't and have streamers.

I nearly forgot, this is the second night in a row that I'm sleeping on a racecourse. It is raining and is likely to continue raining tomorrow, heavily. This war of attrition continues.

Day three

Day three ended with me in a quivering heap on my tent floor. You can't really call it a floor, more a plastic sheet, so it ended with me in the recovery position, wearing my birthday suit (apart from some arm warmers, on my tent floor. This is how I got there...

I woke up later than usual because today is shorter which equates to an hour on the road if you were wondering.

Louise still left bang on 7 and I tried to catch her on the first 35 miles, joining two fast groups to make up the time. below is a photo of me on a bridge to Wales. All was well at this point.

I filled my feedbag at the first pit stop and we set off again, 30 miles later I felt nauseous. As luck had it, this coincided with the second pit stop. Unfortunately Louise's family and friends were at the pit stop who had to try and converse with me whilst I was at an all time low trying to eat a damn pork pie. I hate pork pie, I hate them even more when I'm nauseas.

It's safe to say the last 30 miles was spent cycling with my head down and eyes closed. Today was the easiest day, the shortest and supposed to be a rest day. I felt so sick on returning I stumbled into my tent with the pretence of stretching in it. Instead I lay there on the phone to my mum, admitting/ whimpering that this was huge mistake.

Apologies to Louise's family and friends for my overall demeanour.

Below are photos of Dave and Louise stretching and cycling.

Day 2

Day 2 broken down by stats and facts...and some narrative.

Clothing: pink giro top which meant the man factor, having been eroded by the tassels, was well and truly at level zero.

Number of times people have mistaken me for a girl when overtaking me: 2

Number of times Louise has been confused for a boy: 0

Number of times we have fallen off our bikes: 1 each, she when trying to remount her bike on the steepest incline of the day and me after yelling stopping is for wimps to a few people taking a break after a climb and cycling into a ditch.

Number of times Louise encountered Lewis Moody or vice versa: lost count. She stood in a ten minute food queue with him, was personally congratulated by him on finishing and when he cycled by on a hill she executed a turn of pace that dropped me for dead.

Most impressive part: Cheddar Gorge. Genuinely the first time I've enjoyed cycling so far. Picture of me with mini cheedars at cheddar gorge. Photo planned for hours, nothing else to do really.

Second best moment: a ten minute descent where I vowed never to peddle again. I was peddling again ten minutes later.

Miles cycled: 110 and it was a lot easier than yesterday where I'm almost certain I was getting acquainted with the "wall".

I'm now sat on the floor stretching in a student hall in Bath university, which means a bed, shower and my own toilet. Quite nice as I have realised I hate camping. I'm now going to follow the religious ritual that is post ride recovery: stretch, recovery drink, eat like an elephant and go to bed at 8.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll get a taxi to Macdonalds and go a little wild with an all you can eat meal deal.