……counting down, counting down days and counting down participants. Sadly, only three of the four original fundraising females will be heading out to Cuba next Friday.
Some of you will know by now that in the last fortnight Alison has been diagnosed with breast cancer, and has to remain behind to start treatment. We are going to miss her gliding effortlessly up hills in front of us (quite how she made it through that ride in howling gales while her body is facing it’s biggest fight ever I don’t know) but we are going to go and do it for her, sending pictures and texts of the detail of the horror of each new hill / mossy bite / sore spot / sleepless night….. so she can sit at home supping tea and think of us!
We have spent a year planning this together, I dread to think how many texts Ali and I have swapped in the last 13 months over fundraising / training / fundraising / kit / fundraising / training / fundraising….and it is a cruel blow that right at the final post we don’t all get a chance to share in what will be a wonderful experience together. However, breast cancer affects one in nine women in Britain today, and touches the lives of one in three, and it would seem Alison is the ninth woman.
Action for charity, the trip organisers, have said they will 'hold' Alison's place, and as soon as she is well enough she will be able to go on whichever trip is on at the time (trips planned so far are Cuba March 09 and Jordan October 09), and they have also agreed that they will hold a second place for me so I can go along with her! Yay! So the fundraising is NOT over; the cycle (pun intended) will start all over again once I return, And as a silver lining in this cloud it means I raise an extra £3000 for an exceptionally good cause.
Alison, we love you, we will miss you in Cuba, and we know you will shout at us if we cop out and get on the land rover! I am sure all the readers (and there are some I believe) will join me in praying, thinking, crossing limbs – whatever it is you do – and sending lots of love for you and your family at this time.
Ruth
P.S. You know I do think there would have been easier get-outs of spending ten days solid with me.....she could just have SAID something!
P.P.S, can I encourage those of you who are yet to buy Christmas cards to consider doing so from here, and in doing so support the Royal Marsden Hospital who will be providing Alison's care.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
out with the old...
So B.O.D (the bike formally known as Thing) has gone. To the great bike repair shop in the sky (otherwise known as Frome tip).
This morning has seen me walking shiny new bike (needs a name me thinks - suggestions please!) to school, where the caretaker Mr. Richie fitted a shiny new trailer bike that I was buying off him - Jack and I then made it home, took the trailer off, put both bikes on the car and headed to Halfords to have remaining child seat gubbins taken off Thing and put onto Shiny new bike. Now I am all set to get Sam from school, with Jack on the crossbar seat...and it is POURING with rain!
So I promised I'd fill you in on last weekends epic journey. Well to start with Ali and I had to go to the bike shop to get a new tyre and inner tube as shiny new bike had been delivered with gaping holes. Then we gathered at Caz's; The intrpid trio ready for the off.
Caz has a great new toy on her bike; she has fancy new clipless pedals and shoes. As I was just doing a couple of laps checking shiny new bike, she was demonstrating these: the shoes clip into the pedals, and then you can pull as well as push with each stroke. To remove your foot you twist it sideways and it pops out in a flash! "Easy as pie!" said Caz, who twisted her right foot out of the pedal, and then lent left. And yes, ended up in a heap on the ground.
Hmmmm. Not a great start to our epic ride!
As we headed to Shoreham airport (within a mile of leaving!) the weather started getting bad. Windy, rainy, cold, rainy, blostery, rainy, icy, rainy, cold... By the time we had gone another mile we were discussing whether we would be able to finish. By the time we had gone a nother mile we were SOAKING wet and freezing cold!
We managed a soggy 20 miles before stopping for lunch at Bolney. We walked into the coldest pub in the world look like the most bedraggled crew you have ever seen. And yes, it really was the coldest pub in the world. We would have been warmer and drier had we spent 20 minute swimming in iced water. An hour later, we ventured out of the pub into the still appalling weather, and getting back on those bikes was practically torture. The next stretch of the journey we did about a mile (or half?) actually ON the A23. The cycle route takes you up the pavement on the side. This was just hell! Into the wind, cars whizzing past at 60/70mph, the wind and rain lashing into your face, the rain stinging where it hits you, unable to see clearly with or without glasses, and by this point my bum was SORE. Ed had assured me that sticking with the posh saddle on my new bike was worthwhile, but by gum, getting used to a whole new riding position and new saddle on a long ride in these conditions was NOT a good plan.
We plodded bravely on, discussing how in decent weahter it would actually be a very pretty route, and trying to convince ourselves we could do it. Then we hit Handcross hill. Handcross Hill goes on and on and on and on. And on. Oh, and On. Just when you think you have got to the top, you round the corner and look! A bit more up!
It finished us off. By this point the light was going and whereas we had made pretty good time before lunch covering 20 miles in 2.5 hours (please appreciate this is pretty good time for us, but rubbish for 'normal' cyclists), since lunch we had managed only 5 (up) miles in nearly an hour. The light was going, we all ached and hurt and were cold and wet as never before. We stopped in the pub, and rang for our knight in shining armour - otherwise known as Mike - to rescue us.
Once in the pub we automatically drifted towards the roaring log fire, and stood there like muppets for about 10 minutes before we were defrosted enough to even think about ordering drinks. Kit was removed, shoes were removed and put to dry by the fire, and three hot chocolates were ordered. Twice.
On Sunday, we decided to drive back to Lancing, and on the A23 we all agreed that the stretch we had done on there was very UP indeed!
Some time I will draw a picture of the three of us on this trip. Alison seemingly gliding effortlessly in front, hardly breaking a sweat, and me panting, spinning legs furiously, red in the face, puffed out, exhausted, sweating like a pig, struggling behind. Caz was somewhere in the middle I think.
Two weeks to go.....
This morning has seen me walking shiny new bike (needs a name me thinks - suggestions please!) to school, where the caretaker Mr. Richie fitted a shiny new trailer bike that I was buying off him - Jack and I then made it home, took the trailer off, put both bikes on the car and headed to Halfords to have remaining child seat gubbins taken off Thing and put onto Shiny new bike. Now I am all set to get Sam from school, with Jack on the crossbar seat...and it is POURING with rain!
So I promised I'd fill you in on last weekends epic journey. Well to start with Ali and I had to go to the bike shop to get a new tyre and inner tube as shiny new bike had been delivered with gaping holes. Then we gathered at Caz's; The intrpid trio ready for the off.
Caz has a great new toy on her bike; she has fancy new clipless pedals and shoes. As I was just doing a couple of laps checking shiny new bike, she was demonstrating these: the shoes clip into the pedals, and then you can pull as well as push with each stroke. To remove your foot you twist it sideways and it pops out in a flash! "Easy as pie!" said Caz, who twisted her right foot out of the pedal, and then lent left. And yes, ended up in a heap on the ground.
Hmmmm. Not a great start to our epic ride!
As we headed to Shoreham airport (within a mile of leaving!) the weather started getting bad. Windy, rainy, cold, rainy, blostery, rainy, icy, rainy, cold... By the time we had gone another mile we were discussing whether we would be able to finish. By the time we had gone a nother mile we were SOAKING wet and freezing cold!
We managed a soggy 20 miles before stopping for lunch at Bolney. We walked into the coldest pub in the world look like the most bedraggled crew you have ever seen. And yes, it really was the coldest pub in the world. We would have been warmer and drier had we spent 20 minute swimming in iced water. An hour later, we ventured out of the pub into the still appalling weather, and getting back on those bikes was practically torture. The next stretch of the journey we did about a mile (or half?) actually ON the A23. The cycle route takes you up the pavement on the side. This was just hell! Into the wind, cars whizzing past at 60/70mph, the wind and rain lashing into your face, the rain stinging where it hits you, unable to see clearly with or without glasses, and by this point my bum was SORE. Ed had assured me that sticking with the posh saddle on my new bike was worthwhile, but by gum, getting used to a whole new riding position and new saddle on a long ride in these conditions was NOT a good plan.
We plodded bravely on, discussing how in decent weahter it would actually be a very pretty route, and trying to convince ourselves we could do it. Then we hit Handcross hill. Handcross Hill goes on and on and on and on. And on. Oh, and On. Just when you think you have got to the top, you round the corner and look! A bit more up!
It finished us off. By this point the light was going and whereas we had made pretty good time before lunch covering 20 miles in 2.5 hours (please appreciate this is pretty good time for us, but rubbish for 'normal' cyclists), since lunch we had managed only 5 (up) miles in nearly an hour. The light was going, we all ached and hurt and were cold and wet as never before. We stopped in the pub, and rang for our knight in shining armour - otherwise known as Mike - to rescue us.
Once in the pub we automatically drifted towards the roaring log fire, and stood there like muppets for about 10 minutes before we were defrosted enough to even think about ordering drinks. Kit was removed, shoes were removed and put to dry by the fire, and three hot chocolates were ordered. Twice.
On Sunday, we decided to drive back to Lancing, and on the A23 we all agreed that the stretch we had done on there was very UP indeed!
Some time I will draw a picture of the three of us on this trip. Alison seemingly gliding effortlessly in front, hardly breaking a sweat, and me panting, spinning legs furiously, red in the face, puffed out, exhausted, sweating like a pig, struggling behind. Caz was somewhere in the middle I think.
Two weeks to go.....
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Sorry, Ruth can't come to the blog right now.
Still defrosting and drying out after doing this route in the pouring rain and howling gales yesterday. Yes we were supposed to go to Redill, and back Sunday. No we didn't make it. Total ascent 925 foot. Total descent -449 foot. Yes we are exhausted. 'Nuff said.
More later.....
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Yikes...
So today is the 29th October. I last posted on the 1st October, feeling somewhat triumphant having just cycled 80 or so miles in 2 days, and with a fresh resolve to train hard for the task in hand.
Since then? I have done precisely two school runs (total distance 2 miles) and one trip to the park (total distance 2 miles with a half hour long break for see-sawing in the middle).
On one of the school run trips myself and both boys nearly ended up under a passing truck when Jack (who knew full well he should NOT be carrying toys on the bike - we have a "toys in pockets" rule) dropped Thomas the Tank Engine. Thomas promptly chuffed his way into a very tight corner lodged on top of the back wheel between the frame, brake cables and tyre; the result of this being that the bike stopped. I mean STOPPED. dead. Very suddenly. A fair way from the curb as we were pulling to go round a parked car. Two children one bike and me. Jammed. On a relatively busy road at school run rush hour. I had to unload the children, send them to the pavement, lift B.O.D to the pavement (a hard job - HEAVY!) then turn B.O.D. upside down while wrestling with Thomas for 10 minutes trying to convince him that the thing the fat controller (that'd be me) wanted him to do was to chuff right back out of that spot. NOT a really useful engine.
Thomas, sadly, had a broken wheel, and we spent the remainder of the trip home with Jack screaming (top of Jacks lungs is a very loud and very high pitched place) because of Thomas' broken wheel, and he seemed to think this much more upsetting than the fact we all very nearly died. One of us certainly has our priorities screwed a little.
There is a group of us (those of us who will be going to Cuba together) chatting on Facebook now, swapping tips for what to pack, how to numb areas that may need numbing etc etc. This is a kind of breakaway group from the slightly scary Justgiving group - they were all cycling 100 miles a day and had raised double their fundraising target by March (and are apparently discussing whether or not one should take GHD hair straighteners to Cuba.....hmmmmmmmmm.) - scary for those of us who could barely recognise a bike and had raised about £10.50 by that time. However, now the FB group seem to also be leaving me miles behind. They all seem to be cycling a decent number of miles a decent number of times a week, or at least making it the gym, or doing some form of exercise more than the 'lifting-the-next-slice-of-cake-to-their-mouth' exercise that I am doing. They seem to know what they are packing, what they should be taking when they should be at the airport. All that stuff.
I know nothing! In precisely 23 days I will be sitting on an aeroplane with all these prepared and ready people. A bundle of exhausted fuzzy nerves, trying to desperately remind myself how to pedal. They do say you can never forget though right?
I am making something of an effort this coming weekend. Well that is to say I have some effort planned. Alison and I are going to drive to Caz's place on the South coast on Saturday morning, then all cycle back to Alison's in surrey (this involves South downs and North downs). The plan was that I collect my shiny new expensive bike from lovely Ed on the way to Alison's Friday evening - but still no word on the tyre that is split. Or rather the replacement for the tyre that is split. He has my brand new shiny bike all assembled and ready to go; except this blinking tyre which seems to be taking FOREVER to arrive. And if I have to do a 100 mile weekend on B.O.D I think I may just cry. Or die.
So watch this space.....I'll keep you posted!
(Just to add insult to injury - I am currently staying at my lovely friend Rosie's house, and I just managed to publish this post on her blog instead of my own! I blame her house - its all so flipping technological I am typing this on the dishwasher...)
Since then? I have done precisely two school runs (total distance 2 miles) and one trip to the park (total distance 2 miles with a half hour long break for see-sawing in the middle).
On one of the school run trips myself and both boys nearly ended up under a passing truck when Jack (who knew full well he should NOT be carrying toys on the bike - we have a "toys in pockets" rule) dropped Thomas the Tank Engine. Thomas promptly chuffed his way into a very tight corner lodged on top of the back wheel between the frame, brake cables and tyre; the result of this being that the bike stopped. I mean STOPPED. dead. Very suddenly. A fair way from the curb as we were pulling to go round a parked car. Two children one bike and me. Jammed. On a relatively busy road at school run rush hour. I had to unload the children, send them to the pavement, lift B.O.D to the pavement (a hard job - HEAVY!) then turn B.O.D. upside down while wrestling with Thomas for 10 minutes trying to convince him that the thing the fat controller (that'd be me) wanted him to do was to chuff right back out of that spot. NOT a really useful engine.
Thomas, sadly, had a broken wheel, and we spent the remainder of the trip home with Jack screaming (top of Jacks lungs is a very loud and very high pitched place) because of Thomas' broken wheel, and he seemed to think this much more upsetting than the fact we all very nearly died. One of us certainly has our priorities screwed a little.
There is a group of us (those of us who will be going to Cuba together) chatting on Facebook now, swapping tips for what to pack, how to numb areas that may need numbing etc etc. This is a kind of breakaway group from the slightly scary Justgiving group - they were all cycling 100 miles a day and had raised double their fundraising target by March (and are apparently discussing whether or not one should take GHD hair straighteners to Cuba.....hmmmmmmmmm.) - scary for those of us who could barely recognise a bike and had raised about £10.50 by that time. However, now the FB group seem to also be leaving me miles behind. They all seem to be cycling a decent number of miles a decent number of times a week, or at least making it the gym, or doing some form of exercise more than the 'lifting-the-next-slice-of-cake-to-their-mouth' exercise that I am doing. They seem to know what they are packing, what they should be taking when they should be at the airport. All that stuff.
I know nothing! In precisely 23 days I will be sitting on an aeroplane with all these prepared and ready people. A bundle of exhausted fuzzy nerves, trying to desperately remind myself how to pedal. They do say you can never forget though right?
I am making something of an effort this coming weekend. Well that is to say I have some effort planned. Alison and I are going to drive to Caz's place on the South coast on Saturday morning, then all cycle back to Alison's in surrey (this involves South downs and North downs). The plan was that I collect my shiny new expensive bike from lovely Ed on the way to Alison's Friday evening - but still no word on the tyre that is split. Or rather the replacement for the tyre that is split. He has my brand new shiny bike all assembled and ready to go; except this blinking tyre which seems to be taking FOREVER to arrive. And if I have to do a 100 mile weekend on B.O.D I think I may just cry. Or die.
So watch this space.....I'll keep you posted!
(Just to add insult to injury - I am currently staying at my lovely friend Rosie's house, and I just managed to publish this post on her blog instead of my own! I blame her house - its all so flipping technological I am typing this on the dishwasher...)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
PHEW!
Well we did it!
80 Miles in two days. Phew! We all met rather nervously on the Saturday morning, greeted by the ever-enthusiastic Ed, who was the trip engineer and one of the trainers. Ed bounces everywhere. Or cycles. He's a bit like Tigger with a bike but taller and without a tail. So there was this gaggle of rather nervous women, twitching about the cold (it was foggy), their nervousness of wearing clingy lycra with padded bums, and the sheer terror of what lay ahead. I unloaded my bike and heaved a sigh of relief when Maggie promptly drove up the driveway. A familiar face is a blessing in these times! Maggie was promptly followed by Olive and the Caz and Ali who had the good sense to drive up the night before rather than on the morning as I had. Getting up that early means breakfast is not really face-able, and so the only sustenance I had before setting off on the ride was a banana. Not good.
Still, finally when Ed had gone round telling every one their tyres were too flat and pumping them up furiously we gathered for the prep talk by Trish. Trish was the group leader. A fabulously informed lady who obviously spends far, FAR more time on a bike than any of us did - and she isn't coming to Cuba! I think the only thing that Trish said that stuck in our minds, was that 5 miles in we would hit our first hill. Now on the Just Giving website there is a forum, where some of the girls go and chat. And even though I don't really go on there, the rumours had reached me about THAT HILL. Was this hill that Trish was mentioning THAT hill we all wanted to know? She wasn't sure, but did assure us the air would turn blue as we rounded the corner and saw it, which wasn't exactly reassuring.
So, we peddled off out of Lower Quinton, taking a nice easy 10 mphish, and feeling quite relaxed and reassured fora bit. We pulled over for a quick stop, shed some layers, munched some energy foods, then braced our selves. Oh lordy. Yes. That was a HILL. SERIOUSLY. Made Great Elm look like Holland.
Unfortunately the directions I have do not enable me to chart the route on mapmyrun to show you the true horror of this elevation. Suffice to say all of us swore. A fair few of us had a crack at it, some got off and walked, some (myself included) cycled the whole way but only by stopping and remembering how to breathe and regain the feeling in their legs every three minutes or so - it took 10 minutes to recover from each three minute stretch so this was fairly time consuming!
Anyway, sooner or later we all made it up. Somehow after that none of the other hills over the entire weekend seemed quite as bad. Cazzy, who has only really done training on the flat, managed to cycle most of them and we developed and excellent technique which involved a lot of shouting at each other to help get ourselves to the top. By lunchtime (we stopped at the Fleece Inn in Bretforton) Thing was dying. The chain had jammed once, the gears weren't changing up properly, and if they did the chain just slipped back off the cog it was meant to be on onto the one below. I asked Ed to have a look at it, which he did, before basically announcing the imminent death of Thing. Thing, I am told, has lived his life. Thing is exhausted, brakes are shot, gears are shot, too heavy, not worth repairing. I need a new bike. Thing was duly named by Ed, and henceforth known by the group as the Bike of Doom! (this has to be said with 'doom' kind of voice: 'bike of DOOOOOM!'. I have to say, although Ed reassured me that Thing (henceforth B.O.D. on here) would get round the weekend, it was a little harrowing to be hurtling down very steep hills very fast as the engineer who has assured your brakes don't really quite make the grade whizzes past calling "BIKE OF DOOOoooooommm" over his shoulder. Thanks Ed.
Saturday evening saw Olive leave us as she had the lurgy. I am now fairly confident she is responsible for giving me the lurgy I now have, as does Maggie. Thanks for sharing Olive! Olive did really well on the cycling, especially in view of the fact that she felt rough, but did seem to have something of a death wish just pulling out into the road without looking - a little dodgy even when one can hear oncoming traffic!
Saturday evening I did try to persuade Caz that after nigh on 20 years of friendship, and as she had experience one day of training on a decent bike, the decent friendly thing to do would be to swap. But she wouldn't. So I set my sights on Ali, who after all has asked me to be Godmother to her firstborn son, and so obviously cares about my future well being. She wouldn't swap either. Double Hmph.
Sunday morning I suggested to Ed that we had a group bike exchange, you know, to help everyone experience how it would be on a different bike. None of us after all, will be on our own bikes in Cuba. He said it was too late. Triple Hmph. Still I have to say, his tinkering did mean that BOD behaved relatively well for the remainder of the weekend, and he is going to offer impartial advice on BODs replacement, so he is forgiven.
I just want to mention Julie briefly. Julie came with Maggie, and they hadn't met before except online and are firm friends. Julie is even madder than the rest of us as she shaved her head and raised a whole lotta cash in the process. Easy fundraising. Emotional traumatic, but easy money. Way to go girl.
So here we are, Julie, Maggie, Caz, Ali and me, with (on the far left) Gwen who works for Women for Women and will be cycling round Cuba Twice. Yes really. Two consecutive weeks. She did the same thing in India and Egypt.
Also, I need to apologise to Everyone I met, cos I can't remember any of your names, unless I met you previously, or you teased my bike or shaved your head. I am sure, after a week together, we will all know each other REALLY well! Certainly seems to be nothing like a good few uncomfortable miles on a bike together to start women talking about intimate subjects!
80 Miles in two days. Phew! We all met rather nervously on the Saturday morning, greeted by the ever-enthusiastic Ed, who was the trip engineer and one of the trainers. Ed bounces everywhere. Or cycles. He's a bit like Tigger with a bike but taller and without a tail. So there was this gaggle of rather nervous women, twitching about the cold (it was foggy), their nervousness of wearing clingy lycra with padded bums, and the sheer terror of what lay ahead. I unloaded my bike and heaved a sigh of relief when Maggie promptly drove up the driveway. A familiar face is a blessing in these times! Maggie was promptly followed by Olive and the Caz and Ali who had the good sense to drive up the night before rather than on the morning as I had. Getting up that early means breakfast is not really face-able, and so the only sustenance I had before setting off on the ride was a banana. Not good.
Still, finally when Ed had gone round telling every one their tyres were too flat and pumping them up furiously we gathered for the prep talk by Trish. Trish was the group leader. A fabulously informed lady who obviously spends far, FAR more time on a bike than any of us did - and she isn't coming to Cuba! I think the only thing that Trish said that stuck in our minds, was that 5 miles in we would hit our first hill. Now on the Just Giving website there is a forum, where some of the girls go and chat. And even though I don't really go on there, the rumours had reached me about THAT HILL. Was this hill that Trish was mentioning THAT hill we all wanted to know? She wasn't sure, but did assure us the air would turn blue as we rounded the corner and saw it, which wasn't exactly reassuring.
So, we peddled off out of Lower Quinton, taking a nice easy 10 mphish, and feeling quite relaxed and reassured fora bit. We pulled over for a quick stop, shed some layers, munched some energy foods, then braced our selves. Oh lordy. Yes. That was a HILL. SERIOUSLY. Made Great Elm look like Holland.
Unfortunately the directions I have do not enable me to chart the route on mapmyrun to show you the true horror of this elevation. Suffice to say all of us swore. A fair few of us had a crack at it, some got off and walked, some (myself included) cycled the whole way but only by stopping and remembering how to breathe and regain the feeling in their legs every three minutes or so - it took 10 minutes to recover from each three minute stretch so this was fairly time consuming!
Anyway, sooner or later we all made it up. Somehow after that none of the other hills over the entire weekend seemed quite as bad. Cazzy, who has only really done training on the flat, managed to cycle most of them and we developed and excellent technique which involved a lot of shouting at each other to help get ourselves to the top. By lunchtime (we stopped at the Fleece Inn in Bretforton) Thing was dying. The chain had jammed once, the gears weren't changing up properly, and if they did the chain just slipped back off the cog it was meant to be on onto the one below. I asked Ed to have a look at it, which he did, before basically announcing the imminent death of Thing. Thing, I am told, has lived his life. Thing is exhausted, brakes are shot, gears are shot, too heavy, not worth repairing. I need a new bike. Thing was duly named by Ed, and henceforth known by the group as the Bike of Doom! (this has to be said with 'doom' kind of voice: 'bike of DOOOOOM!'. I have to say, although Ed reassured me that Thing (henceforth B.O.D. on here) would get round the weekend, it was a little harrowing to be hurtling down very steep hills very fast as the engineer who has assured your brakes don't really quite make the grade whizzes past calling "BIKE OF DOOOoooooommm" over his shoulder. Thanks Ed.
Saturday evening saw Olive leave us as she had the lurgy. I am now fairly confident she is responsible for giving me the lurgy I now have, as does Maggie. Thanks for sharing Olive! Olive did really well on the cycling, especially in view of the fact that she felt rough, but did seem to have something of a death wish just pulling out into the road without looking - a little dodgy even when one can hear oncoming traffic!
Saturday evening I did try to persuade Caz that after nigh on 20 years of friendship, and as she had experience one day of training on a decent bike, the decent friendly thing to do would be to swap. But she wouldn't. So I set my sights on Ali, who after all has asked me to be Godmother to her firstborn son, and so obviously cares about my future well being. She wouldn't swap either. Double Hmph.
Sunday morning I suggested to Ed that we had a group bike exchange, you know, to help everyone experience how it would be on a different bike. None of us after all, will be on our own bikes in Cuba. He said it was too late. Triple Hmph. Still I have to say, his tinkering did mean that BOD behaved relatively well for the remainder of the weekend, and he is going to offer impartial advice on BODs replacement, so he is forgiven.
I just want to mention Julie briefly. Julie came with Maggie, and they hadn't met before except online and are firm friends. Julie is even madder than the rest of us as she shaved her head and raised a whole lotta cash in the process. Easy fundraising. Emotional traumatic, but easy money. Way to go girl.
So here we are, Julie, Maggie, Caz, Ali and me, with (on the far left) Gwen who works for Women for Women and will be cycling round Cuba Twice. Yes really. Two consecutive weeks. She did the same thing in India and Egypt.
Also, I need to apologise to Everyone I met, cos I can't remember any of your names, unless I met you previously, or you teased my bike or shaved your head. I am sure, after a week together, we will all know each other REALLY well! Certainly seems to be nothing like a good few uncomfortable miles on a bike together to start women talking about intimate subjects!
Friday, September 26, 2008
eeeek!
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I have such a huge to-do list permanently at the moment, and as soon as 'update blog' gets a little nearer the top 10 more pressing items get themselves added on.
I just thought Id let you all know that this weekend (that'd be tomorrow!) is our training weekend. We are doing 40 miles each day, through the Cotswold's. I am told via a reliable source that Fern Britton did this last weekend and was followed by a film crew - and will be shown on Mondays edition on 'This Morning'.
It is fair to say that I am panicking slightly, having not done more than 22 miles or so in one stretch, and then my fingers went blues and my hands went numb (I now have gloves - all be it rather poorly fitting ones...). Caz is panicking about the hills having only really done flat, Alison has bought enough energy gels,sweets, powders, drinks etc to last the four of us a month as her way of coping, Maggie (remember her? We met at the car boot sale) I practically had to blackmail into coming along at all, and I am just quaking, and trying to pretend it really wasn't my idea any of us did this in the first place.
The upshot is, that come Monday we will either be REALLY panicking, or wonderfully reassured. We will probably have some trouble walking or sitting too - but that's another story...
I just thought Id let you all know that this weekend (that'd be tomorrow!) is our training weekend. We are doing 40 miles each day, through the Cotswold's. I am told via a reliable source that Fern Britton did this last weekend and was followed by a film crew - and will be shown on Mondays edition on 'This Morning'.
It is fair to say that I am panicking slightly, having not done more than 22 miles or so in one stretch, and then my fingers went blues and my hands went numb (I now have gloves - all be it rather poorly fitting ones...). Caz is panicking about the hills having only really done flat, Alison has bought enough energy gels,sweets, powders, drinks etc to last the four of us a month as her way of coping, Maggie (remember her? We met at the car boot sale) I practically had to blackmail into coming along at all, and I am just quaking, and trying to pretend it really wasn't my idea any of us did this in the first place.
The upshot is, that come Monday we will either be REALLY panicking, or wonderfully reassured. We will probably have some trouble walking or sitting too - but that's another story...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
decisions decisions.....
I will some time soon get around to writing about latest exploits on thing. In the meantime I am trying to make a decision: do I get a trailgater or a tag along? My theory being that Sam can then help up the hills! Any one know which is best?
Answers on a postcode please!
Answers on a postcode please!
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