100 mile cycle

I cannot believe I have actually completed something so grueling as a Century Cycle, 100 miles, mechanical problems, losing my team mates, being overtaken by the faster riders, being told you’ll never do it on a mountain bike

Being told you’ll never do it

But I did

Four months ago, putting my name down on the sign up website seemed like a good idea, then as more and more time passed by and more and more hill climbs on the spin bike, spin classes, squats, runs, clean eating, occasional resting and wishing it would be over but wishing it wasn’t so close, came to a head on Saturday the first of September.  I laid out my bib, padded lycra shorts, helmet, gloves, shorts, shades, food, first aid, water pack, trainers, HRM, mp3 player and new playlist loaded, headphones and shirt – stepped back and thought, you’ve gotta put that all on in the morning and do this you HAVE to do this.



I’d been asked had I done much cycling by lots of people and I usually shrugged and said a bit but not much but I go to the gym a fair bit.  All I got were those raised eyebrows or an exasperated exclamation of nor putting hours and hours in on a bike, let alone the idea of me doing it on a mountain bike.

But I did it.

I suffered with a left crank failure having to call out my wife who I thank eternally for doing that to deliver a wrench 7 miles in.  Having to retighten my crank arm every two or three miles then get back on and keep going.  Losing my party at 28 miles in and being on my own was both disheartening and a good thing because I could settle into my own pace and bite into the tarmac with every pump of my legs.

Worst thing I could’ve done, checked the map at the refreshment station I decided to take and refill my water pack, 55 miles in, 55, I couldn’t even contemplate another 45 as I had in my head I was two thirds done.  I was so deflated, my knees ached, I couldn’t feel my hands with numbness, my back hurt, my backside, I’ve never felt that kind of discomfort before.  I took stock a bit and lay back on the grass and just thought ‘You’re 55 miles from the start and 45 miles from home, if you don’t get up and do this now, you won’t do it and all those people will be right about you’.  

Whatever it was made me get up, my body was screaming at me to take five more minutes, quit, get a bus, sell your body, anything to get back home and say ‘Well, I tried’ but that wasn’t an option and it never was, there was nothing on earth that could stop me from getting this done.  I gingerly got back on my bike and felt the sting on the saddle, Marion thank you so much for the gel saddle cover it was a god send, and carried on with heavy legs.  

I’ve never been one for divine intervention, fate, heebie jeebies or voodoo but I really think my Grandma was watching over me or at least someone was 60 miles on.  My crank arm suffered with a sheared nut early in the cycle on the bolt so meant that tightening it would only last me a couple of miles.  I pulled up on one of my many breathers at the side of the road, leaned over it while I sucked on my water tube and looked down onto a shining, new, crank nut literally right underneath my bike – I quickly undid the old one, wrenched the new one on and never suffered with a problem for the rest of the event.

What I thought that were mile markers on the signposts kept me pushing on through the pain in my knee which I should have realized was because my saddle kept slipping down, a quick bit of duct tape around the shaft and it stayed up but the knee problem stayed with me for the duration and slowed my progress a little.

I checked my HRM and 5000 calories and thought, you’ve got about another three hours of this but kept my spirits high as I found myself on my own on the road, singing Paradise City, Rizzle Kicks, Sweet Home Alabama, Kid Rock and various other songs on my playlist at full tilt including head nodding and hand actions I kid you not which when I saw the motorists coming the other way laughing at me gave me a motivational boost to carry on and keep going.
There were a few points I will always remember;

Pulling over to find that nut when I really needed it
How good chocolate covered peanuts taste
How important stretching is
Passing the people doing the 100km racers turn and thinking hell I’ve got 60 miles to go
The fact that the overgrown grass, hedges and plant life leaning out into the road seemed to remind me of a crowd willing me on to keep going
The feeling of loneliness at times
The importance of water
The phone call from my wife while I was on a rest stop, that filled me with the ability to do it more than peanut butter, energy drinks, or a full steak dinner at that point, you’ll never know how good your voice sounded.
The lovely barmaid who, although asking to see my *kitten*, was really kind, made me eat an orange and filled my water pack for me saying how proud she was of us all – that meant so much to me
The drunk in said bar who said I looked like James Bond (go figure) and said ‘you’re all right kid, you’ve got 28 miles to go’ when I thought I had 37
The massive articulated lorry behind me on a country road, man you have no idea how much more I was motivated to get up that hill I felt like John Conner!
Lying down on my own on a church lawn and just taking ten minutes to myself at about 12 miles from home
The 25, 20, 15, 8, 6 mile marker
The ‘pick-up’ van that passed me at 15 miles from home with some sorry looking pro cyclists in it – I thought my God if they can’t do it….
My own ‘race’ which began at three miles from home – no one was passing me I don’t care if my knee flew apart
The killer hill 3 miles out, I don’t think I could find a cog small enough on my bike!
All the way thinking I have to do this for my MFP friends who have been unwavering in their support since I started on the first of January I can’t thank you enough.

When all was said and done, I hit the one mile marker at a flying (for me, and after 99 miles) pace, I rounded the corner to see the park where I started the whole thing, remembering being dropped off nervous and fresh to return exhausted and elated.  I rounded the gates into the park and even though everyone was packed up, the finish line had been taken down and it looked very different from when I left – one thing stood out to me like a beacon, my wife who, like a tour de france pit crew, fixed me when I needed it, talked to me when I needed it and was all the way with me in spirit pushing me on.  Standing there on the now taken down finish line applauding as I passed.




I may have finished dead last, to be honest I will never know but one thing is for sure,

I did it, and there is absolutely nothing stopping any of you doing the same in your own journey.