Almost nine months ago I wrote about how my husband had somehow ended up letting a friend talk him into doing a 100km cycle in April last year. He was quite nervous about making sure he was prepared for it, and spent many a freezing morning in February and March frantically training. In the end, he had a wonderful time, but his legs were so sore the following day he vowed never to do anything like that again.
Of course that resolve didn’t last, and he ended up doing another, much shorter, cycle in October, and somehow convincing me to join him. I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised, then, when I somehow ended up signing myself up to join him as he attempted the same 100km cycle again this year.
I loved the idea of cycling in the fresh air and enjoying the countryside, and it was a surprise to me when people began asking about my “training plan”. There were times when I wondered what on earth I had done (most of them after several hours on a bike, often in the rain!) and I did briefly worry that I might have had bitten off more than I could chew. However, it was with mounting excitement that at 4am one Sunday morning last month we got up to get ourselves to the start line, having travelled to the location of the race the night before. It was surprisingly light, and we could hear the birds chirping as we gathered alongside many other excited riders.
As we inched our way towards the start line, a sense of camaraderie began to build. People around us shared stories – in one case of an airline losing bikes the night before the race, and rentals having to be found last minute. Another fellow cyclist had done all their training in the gym and never been on open road before (they did brilliantly, apart from the hill climbs which threw them off a bit).
And then off we went! The first 60km was wonderfully invigorating, and I could still feel the buzz of the atmosphere, camaraderie and beautiful scenery. It must be said, the hills then began to take their toll, and the final section was something of a slog. But throughout the ride, I really valued the occasional cluster of spectators cheering us on along the route, as well as the support from others taking part.
It was an amazing experience, and in the days since, I’ve forgotten the difficult bits, and remember only the highlights. I know my legs felt a bit sore at the time, but I can much more easily recall the huge feeling of achievement as we finally crossed the finish line. I’m even tempted to do it again! I don’t think we’ll be reining in our ambitions just yet.