Parents to Paris 2019

I'd been looking forward to this day since I finished last year's fundraising ride with the diabetes dads. So this year we wanted branch out & invite Mums & Dads to join us. We ended up with 3 mums - another 2 had to withdraw unfortunately through illness - and also had Jack, son of Andrew & Kate, both riding, a young person living with type 1 diabetes.

It hadn't been an entirely stress-free experience in the lead up - trying to get people who would commit, booking ferries & trains, getting sponsorship, planning routes & hotels, worrying about fitness levels, worrying about their bikes & their ability to fix a puncture...Luckily we had Kev as Le Patron, a veteran of 3 previous rides, who took on all of the hotel booking & route planning, even though he was supposed to be taking a back seat this year, and did an absolutely fantastic job. All the rest of us had to do was turn up, load up the panniers & ride!

This fundraising all started a few years ago after I met some other parents in a facebook support group for parents of children living with Type 1 Diabetes, with a shared love of cycling. Initially we cycled Nightrider together as a grouo of Dads, then upped the ante to do London to Paris last year, before inviting Mums this time!

Over the years we've raised close to £50,000 for JDRF, the UK's only charity dedicated to funding research into a cure for type 1, so while none of us want to be in this position, it's been a great opportunity to raise funds & awareness of this relentless condition.

There had been plenty of banter in our what's app group and on the facebook page, and it was good to finally meet up with people on the Wednesday night in the local 'spoons in Penge - the ladies joining us felt a bit like they were on a blind date; even though we'd all known each other virtually for months, this was the first time we were meeting IRL! So I was pleased that they weren't put off and came back for a second date the next morning at the Grand Depart in Beckenham - shaving off a good 10 miles from last year's start at the JDRF offices, and a whole lot of stressful traffic!

Throughout the trip Kev was recording short videos for our JDRF instagram takeover on Sunday, and you can see some of them & others, on our facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/ukdiabetesfamilies

Day 1 - 86km, 1000m (53 miles, 3277 feet)

We gathered from 10 at my place for last minute packing / unpacking / bacon rolls, and set off around 1115, waved off by various neighbours, partners, children, as well as Amy from JDRF who had popped over to see us off. 11 parents and 1 teen with T1D. We got out of London and into the lanes without incident (other than going along a cycle path which turned out to be overgrown with nettles & brambles & led to the uncomfortable choice of cycling though one or the other!) and really enjoyed cycling through the beautiful rolling countryside of Kent & Sussex on a day which was warming up, but not yet too hot to ride. Stopping occasionally to regroup and fill up our water whenever possible, we made good progress to East Grinstead, where the sneaky hill up into the town always catches you unawares. But soon we all gathered in the salubrious surroundings of the Sainsbury’s car park, to grab a quick lunch, more water, ice cream, and have a bit of a break before cracking on.

Whereas the same route last year had been miserably wet & ridden in persistent rain, this year was absolutely glorious - maybe the extra month helped. Straight after our lunch break, we were up a hill towards Turners Hill, then had a long & rolling stretch to the top of another hill into West Hoathly. By this time we had established that young Jack was a big fan of the hills, and was powering up all of them – often turning round to come back & do it again! While we waited for everyone to catch up, an ice cream van stopped at the junction, and in a master class of Yorkshire brassneckery, Vince asked him for some free ice cream in lieu of a charity donation. Much to our surprise, the nice chap from Venice Ices pulled over, and proceeded to hand out lollies to all of us – asking us to make a donation ourselves, which we all subsequently did!

Onwards towards Newhaven, and we had an extended break at the now traditional level crossing stop in Cooksbridge before pressing on into Lewes and then down the valley into Newhaven. Halfway along this road Jack started to wobble aound a bit, and we realised he was having a hypo so stopped by the side of the road in a driveway. The lady whose driveway it was arrived back from work a few minutes later, insisted on bringing Jack into the house & sitting him down, giving him time to get his BG back up again & to recover. While the others pressed on, I stayed with Jack & his parents, and the delightful Penny looked after us all. The kindness of strangers. After about 40 minutes or so, we were able to continue and carried on to complete the last 5 miles to Newhaven, in the late afternoon sunshine, with no further incident.

Following dinner & beer in the pub we made our way down to the port & managed again to get past the cars in the queue to check in. We had a chat to the drivers of a support van for some lunatics who had cycled down from Edinburgh, and were riding a much more direct route in the following day. In the waiting room we chatted to others, also aiming to complete the ride in 24 hours - as opposed to our leisurely 4 days - one of whom very kindly gave us a fiver for the cause. Then it was onto the boat, into the cabin, quick shower & bed (or drink then bed) to try & catch a few ZZZs before the ferry docked a few hours later.

Day 2 - 115km, 492m (71 miles, 1614 feet)

The dulcet tones of the announcer dragged us from our fitful sleep at 0330, 0430 local time, and we were off the ferry & on our way by 0530. What a difference a year and a month makes. Last year we rolled off the ferry still in our soaking gear from the previous day & set off through the mist, which didn't burn off until late morning. This year the sun was rising, there wasn't a cloud on the sky & we could see our surroundings - it was well worth it.

The route out of Dieppe takes you along the Avenue Verte, a long cycle path which cuts across Normandy towards Paris. It's been extended in the last year, so there's even more off road. We rolled along at a nice pace with the sun appearing over the top of the hills, until the inevitable puncture - the first one of the trip going to Svenia & her tubeless tyres, courtesy of a broken bottle on the cycle path. Matt fixed it eventually - took 3 goes - and we carried on a few more km until Megan also had one, which was also swiftly dispatched.

As last year, we were aiming for Neufchatel en Bray for Breakfast, and we went back to the same place, only to find the chef wasn't there yet! Fortunately, someone who could rustle up some omlettes arrived, so we had those, a couple of folk had the now traditional cheeky 9am stella - essentially a lunchtime drink, given we'd been on the move since 5am - and on we went.

One of the local cafe owners took great amusement in the Brits lathering themselves with suntan lotion at 9am in the morning, but hey, an opportunity for meme's an opportunity for a meme in any language, right?

After a brief stop at a sports shop for more tubes, we pressed on, still on the Avenue Verte, towards the Super-U at Serquex for supplies...mainly water as it was heating up. Then we were off the cycle paths and into the quiet rural rolling roads towards Gournay - lovely to be out in the open with sweeping vistas, but with the sun getting higher, we were glad of any shade when we got it.

We arrived in Gournay & decided against buying a picnic to eat in the car park, and retired to the McDonalds for some air-con & blessed relief from the sun. However, we also had some mechanicals to deal with at this point, a broken wheel rim & a broken spoke, which meant that Andrew & Steve couldn't carry on, as well as some likely lads with a white van, overheard discussing which bikes they were going to take, so it all got a bit fraught for a few minutes while we tried to sort it all out.

On the map, Beauvais is just a straight 20 miles away, so of course there was no train, and no taxis anywhere locally who were close enough / willing enough to help out. So with a last throw of the dice we went to a car mechanic place, and the very helpful guy there was able to help us to get a taxi to come from Beauvais to pick up Steve & Andrew, and their bikes, and take them to the Decathlon in Beauvais to fix everything.

The rest of us carried on, and after a brief bit on the road, we hit another section of shaded cycle track through the forest for most of the way to Beauvais! It was wonderful - but even with the shade & the breeze, I was still dousing myself with water to try & keep cool. A couple of hours later we popped out into the mid-afternoon furnace of Beauvais, but it wasn't for long and we were soon at our hotel on the outskirts.

Cold showers, cold beers, power naps followed, until we met again at a surprisingly good all you can eat & drink buffet, Crocodile (bizarrely themed as a railway station, given the name), nearby for a nice meal, before heading back for the night.

Day 3 - 77km, 610m (48 miles, 2000 feet)

Even though the hotel had some form of rudimentary aircon and it was at the end of 2 very long days. I don't thing anyone slept particularly well, so it was a relief when the alarm went off at 6 and we could officially start getting ready for the day. This was supposed to be the hottest one, with the weather due to break that evening, and it didn't let us down.

The first part of the ride was lovely though, out through a pretty village, up quite a long drag to be rewarded with glorious views, then down and back up a longer drag before we stepped on it and set a good pace across and down to Meru where we stopped for breakfast. Well, I say breakfast, but it was actually just some vienoisserie from the boulangerie and a coffee from the cafe, as apparently no one needs to eat at the weekend in rural France, so the chef wasn't working! Tant pis for us!

After our breakfast we pressed on towards Van Gogh territory, through ever more beautiful countryside, and forgiving roads. Not too many hills, though I did get a bit of flint in my tyre on the off-road section which caused the 3rd puncture of the trip - a pretty good record really. Once that was changed, and with it getting hotter all the time, and having squirted my sticky energy drink over myself instead of the water by mistake, it was nice to have some smooth roads down towards the Oise, and we stopped in a village where the lady in the Mairie filled up all of our bottles. Kev was very keen for us to see some culture, or to get in his Van Gogh joke, and the route out of the village took us up such a sharp hill that young Jack decided to turn around and do 2 more reps of it! The lunacy!

It was now getting towards late morning and was seriously hot! We still had about 30km to go, but stopped in Auvers-sur-Oise to buy some lunch (and stand next to the freezers for a bit), and then went to eat it in a shady spot on the banks of the Oise. It was hard to tear ourselves away, but we had been trying to avoid the heat of the day, and having failed miserably to do that, just wanted to get there.

At this stage, which the temperature over 100 in the hottest June heatwave recorded in France, heat exhaustion wasn't far away. Most of the water was going over our heads every few minutes, and whenever we weren't cycling into the hair dryer breeze, the heat as we waited at lights was searing. At one point we came around a corner to the rare sight of an open bar, and piled in to fill up the water, have ice cream (some cheeky stella too), and shelter for a few minutes before pressing on. It's a real shame that the heat was so brutal, as it was a really lovely route along the banks of the Oise, past some beautiful grand houses, and we really weren't in much of a mood to appreciate it! You can't control the weather though, so we just got our heads down and pushed on. There were a couple more energy sapping hills before we arrived at the hotel at around 4pm.

Phew, what a scorcher it had been. And better yet, this hotel didn't have any aircon at all - though they did have fans which we could use. I waited with Jack in the relative cool of reception for his folks & Kev to arrive, and the others stood in cold showers and lay under wet towels and did whatever was needed to recover - but blimey it was hot!

Later, after refreshments in the Carrefour, we all went to the Bureau, an English themed pub & restaurant, whose main attraction was the cocktail menu including "le brexit" - naturally we all had one, and surprisingly they weren't that bad! They certainly weren't as bad as all the hilarious puns anyway. We presented Jack with a t-shirt for his supreme riding for the previous 3 days, and after a meal and some more drinks, we headed back to the hotel & to bed, for another hot & sticky restless night.

Day 4 - 46km 353m (29 miles, 1158 feet)

It was another early start, but the heat had definitely broken and there were even some clouds about. Nevertheless, we had to push on as we wanted time in Versailles for breakfast & enough time at the Trocadero to enjoy it before we had to go.

The route was through the woods to Versailles first, with another long drag to get us warmed up. Last year I'd had a broken spoke & Vince had fallen off on tjis stretch, but we all survived unscathed and headed for Versailles.

After a quick photocall outside the palace, we stopped for a quick breakfast of cake & then carried on through the town, up the hill on the other side, then through the fantastic St Cloud park until suddenly there it was. Paris. The Eiffel Tower. The end of the road. Ian managed to fall off his bike on the excitement to get going & Svenia had a close encounter with a bus in Versailles, but we were otherwise unscathed.

It's a really special feeling to arrive in another European capital having got there under your own steam, carrying your own stuff, with no support vehicle to help, and throuh the hottest June temperatures France has ever seen. But we had made it, and the last few celebratory miles through the streets & along the river were infused with excitement. All thoughts of tiredness were gone.

It was lovely to arrive together, and to see Steve's wife Sam & their 2 girls waiting for us. Cue balloons, hugs, handshakes, some warm fizz & the usual photos of the finish. What a thrill. 

After spending some time at the Trocadero we had to get going - firstly because we had a train to catch, secondly because we needed to get a picnic before the shops shut, but mainly because the route to the station took us around the Arc de Triomphe a few times & down the Champs d'Elysees! Yes, the Champs d'Elysees. And around the Place de la Concorde, not quite channelling Renshaw leading out Cav but enjoying the memory.

At this point, and with impeccable timing, Jack had his second hypo of the trip, fortunately next to a supermarket, so we were able to get our lunch & he was able to recover. The power of Android APS looping!

It was only a mile from the end now, at the Gare du Nord, where we found our way to the baggage dispatch area, got the bikes loaded up, then went to check in & start the picnic. The much anticipated shoelace to open a bottle of wine trick didn't really deliver on its early promise, so it was the old push the cork in job instead.

Once on the train, Vincent made the mistake of dozing off & paid the price. It also later transpired that his achy wrist caused by a crash on the day before we started was actually fractured, so it was an epic effort from him.

Once back at St Pancras, we picked up our bikes and said our goodbyes, heading our separate ways after 4 fantastic, brutal but unmissable days. 12 people brought together by our association with type 1 diabetes,  and everyone a hero - Kate, who hadn't ridden over 50 miles before & certainly not in the heat, Andrew & Jack, just 16 & so strong throughout, Svenia & Lewis who both only started riding this year, Megan, le Patron Kev with all the organisation, Steve, Vince, Matt, Ian - all of whom made my job of riding at the front following Kev's superb navigation to the Eiffel Tower so much easier.

So thanks to all of them, and thanks to all our supporters - we've raised over £11,000 for JDRF now, but please continue to give generously.

www.justgiving.com/fundraising/parents2paris2019

Merci for reading!

Penge goes to Flanders - a view from the back

Help! De Ronde...

Flanders is flat. Everyone knows it. Everyone said it was flat when I told them what I was planning to do. And they were almost right. Even the grizzled old chap in one of many Gent chippies told me. "Flanders is flat. Apart from the hills." So what brought me to Gent on the first weekend of April, with a slightly sprained wrist - not ideal for the challenge ahead!

Last year I signed up to join a trip to De Ronde Van Vlaanderen with Penge Cycle Club, Pride of SE London, with 59 others. The fantastic organiser David said it was open to anyone, so I decided to go. I'm no athlete, I ride for fun & cake, usually pretty slowly, and take the more sedate rides out occasionally. I knew I probably wouldn't be able to train that much or lose that much weight, but I'd give it a go. Because I knew very well that Flanders was *not* flat & that riding the Tour of Flanders sportive, then watching the pros do it the next day, was an absolute bucket list cycling experience.

What is this Tour of Flanders, some of you may be wondering. It's one of the 5 monuments of cycling. Just like tennis isn't all about Wimbledon, neither is cycling all about the Tour de France. There are many kinds of races - the big 3 week grand tours - Italy, France, Spain. Shorter stage races like Paris - Nice. One day classics. And the Monuments - also contested over one day but steeped in tradition & history. Paris-Roubaix - the Hell of the North, Liege-Bastogne-Liege, Milan - San Remo, Lombardia and Flanders. These are the big five. Just as some cyclists specialise in the grand tours, others as climbers or sprinters, a whole breed also exist to put themselves through the unremitting pain & suffering of the classics. They're all incredibly tough, but Flanders is the one. Flanders is the toughest. Because not only does it have cobbles - lots of them,  it also has bergs - hills. And not only does it have bergs, it has cobbled bergs! These aren't nice smooth hills zig-zagging up the side of a mountain at manageable gradients. These are tiny lanes, barely wide enough for a tractor, which go straight up whatever is in front of them!

Cobbles makes it sound quaint, doesn't it? But these cobbles are not nice & smooth & uniform. They are jagged & bumpy & uneven. God help you if they are wet! Did I mention how steep some of these bergs are? Even the pros sometimes end up walking, to hoots of derision from the hundreds of thousands of Flandriens lining the route, especially if they slip or someone falls...once you have unclipped, it's very hard to clip back in & continue. Anyway. Enough build-up.

On Friday we all gathered in Sydenham with our gear & boarded the coach to Gent. The journey passed without particular incident & we got to Oudenaarde in the late afternoon to sign on. Due a combination of factors & a soupçon of fatalism, I'd decided a few weeks previously to do the 74km ride. Other distances were available, but I had decided the 74km was better suited to my shite level of fitness & preparation, and also gave me the best shout of getting to the hills without too many crowds & a fighting chance to get up then unimpeded by anything other than my own lack of ability! Oddly, we had to pay for our medal in advance - usually they dish them out as you finish - but I obviously had to get one.

Then it was back to the bus for the short journey to Gent to our hostel. We were all bunking up with others - sorry about the snoring lads - and after a pasta meal together & a potter around the town in search of frites, we retired to bed.

At 5am the alarms all started going off and we dragged ourselves downstairs - to find the door to the reception area where our bikes were being kept was locked! Mild panic swept the hostel until "le patron" David found we could access the room from the other side - panic over!

Strangely & unusually for me I wasn't in a state of anxiety or having the sweats. I'm not sure why. Before the epic fail of the Etape 8 years ago I was crippled with nerves the night before. Maybe it's because I had decided that this was going to be a ride for me. I wasn't going to fundraise off the back of it - that'll be later in the year - I just wanted, for once, to do it for myself, without the extra pressure, just because it was there. I'm so glad I did.

We gathered outside the hotel ready for a Grand Depart of 0545 for Oudenaarde - 20 miles away along the canal. We were supposed to try & ride together, a 60 strong peloton of Penge's finest, and me. This was the plan, and as usual with plans, it disintegrated almost immediately! Several people slipped on the tram tracks and came off. Traffic lights caused a split - as did the ferocious pace at the front! Never mind, it all settled down as we made our way out past the broken glass & drunkards coming home, then we hit the beautifully tranquil canal paths, with the dawn still a while away, and the birds getting into the swing of things. We shot along at a fair old lick, the only other signs of life being an occasional jogger and a couple of barges - one of which had such bright headlights that it was like Close Encounters. (one for the teenagers there!). After about 12 miles we turned off the canal path & took the more direct route along the main road to the outskirts of Oudenaarde & to the unpreposessing industrial estate start.

There were 5 of us who had decided to do the 74km distance - Fran, Loren, Jonathan, James & me - and we'd also decided to try & ride it together if we could. Out on the road a 6th rider was to join Team 74, Jonathan C. We set off together but soon found that many of our fellow riders suffered from a strange malady known as Dickitis. Symptoms included going through spaces which weren't there, on either side of you, shouting at you to move out of their way - as they obviously had more right to that bit of road than you, and not taking turns on the front when riding in groups. The first rule of life ignored - don't be a dick. To be honest though, annoying & dickish as some were, there were plenty of cyclists behaving normally,  plenty of that masochistic black humour you get when you're all suffering the same, and the dicks did not rule the day.

Off we went, initially along the canal then over a bridge & back down the other side. It was good cycling weather - overcast & cool - which maybe didn't show Flanders in all its glory, or maybe it did exactly that! We sped along nice smooth quiet roads, knowing what was to come but enjoying the phoney war while it lasted. We stopped briefly at a feed stop to get some breakfast & had a quick chat with a lunatic doing it on a single speed bike...seriously mad! He had calf muscles the size of actual baby cows though, so who can say...all I know is that I rode past him on the Koppenberg, and he was pushing!

As we rolled along after the food stop it became apparent that the hill which had appeared from nowhere was the Koppenberg, and was approaching rapidly. I took a quick FB live video of the run in, only to be scolded by a watching Winnie, so got back to the task at hand. The Koppenberg is one of the fabled climbs in the Tour of Flanders. It used to be in such terrible condition that the pros complained & it was removed until they fixed it. As it was, we could see it rising sharply away to our left as we approached the right angled turn & got our first teeth rattling taste of the cobbles. You could see the whole thing snaking away through the trees & even from the bottom the steep ramps & walkers were already evident.

As we were early in the day (later riders had to queue at the bottom before being let on), it was relatively sparse, so up we went. I'm not much of a climber - being a fat knacker isn't conducive to flying up hills - but I can be quite stubborn when I want to be & I was determined to get over this first climb. Even if all others were flops, I wanted the bragging rights of getting over at least one of the big boys! I ground up it in my lowest gear, jumping around on the bumpy cobbles, trying not to think about my slightly sprained bandaged wrist, or the folk cutting past at speed on both sides, or the riders who were walking. I just wanted to grind it out, especially with shouts of encouragement ringing in my ears. Up we went, and it got steeper & steeper. Eventually I had to stop for a breather, at which point the bike started to roll backwards. It was that steep. After a few seconds respite I had another go & somehow managed to get moving & clip back in. More of the same until I needed a second breather & then I pushed on to the top! Jeez I felt sick from the exertion. Like I said, I'm not very fit. However, I wasn't as sick as an English lad leaning up against the portaloos & throwing up his breakfast, but still pretty rough. Took a good few mins & a lovely sweeping downhill to recover!

One down, one of the hardest bergs, with a mere 9 to go. We had a sticker on the crossbar & we were mentally ticking them off as we went. The organisers had also kindly put up signs telling us how far we had to the next one was as we finished each of them!

The next challenge was another go at the cobbles along Mariaborrestraat, then up Steenbeekdries. This just seemed absolutely relentless - flattish through a small hamlet then up the hill & down the other side, cobbled all the way. The relief when we got back to a smooth surface was palpable! How they do it I have no idea - going fast seemed to help but I have no idea how they did that when we were just struggling to control the bike as it bounced around the cobbles, rattling everything! Downhill was worse. Still, all good things must come to an end, and so do cobbles.

After a brief pause to laugh our heads off at the insanity of it all, Team 74 forged onwards. The organisers were sneaking in some definite hilly bits without advertising them, the swine, but the next one on our list was Taaienberg - not too long or too steep but plenty of cobbles to keep us interested, and a bunch of folk at the top cheering us on. This is always very helpful! 3 down, 7 to go. I don't remember the next one, but the one after was Kanarieberg, steep but cobble free - and also the halfway point - happy days! Even happier was that there were food trucks at the top, so we stopped for a bit of lunch. Yes, it was fried. I almost had to quit at this point, such was my devastation that the  bratwurst truck had electrical problems & was unable to provide sausage, so it was a bitte-ballen sandwich instead. I rallied & we pushed on, spirits high & ready for the second half.

This started with a quick water stop in the main square of Ronse, which had been turned into a feed station & massive outdoor disco pumping out what can only be described as oompah techno! We tore ourselves away before Plastic Bertrand came on, and up the next 2 hills towards Karnemelkbeekstraat, which was a long but manageable drag up through the woods. At the top we got talking to a local lad who gave us some insight about what was coming up with our last 2 climbs - short version, nothing good! We also met one of the original club founders, Pete, riding with VCL.

Next was Kwaremont - the longest stretch of cobbles, going on for what felt like an extremely long 2km, uphill all the way. We came back here the next day to watch the pro riders bouncing & bumping over the very same cobbles at significantly greater speeds! There were lots of people cheering us on in the middle, some even mendaciously telling us the worst was over - spoiler alert, it wasn't! Our old friend Jamie from the Koppenberg went past us at the top, still battling on. We had one left. The Paterberg...

As we came along the top of the ridge, around the corner & down the hill, we could see a line of caravans & flags across the valley, at a curious angle...marking the final berg of the day, and I think the steepest one. At least the ramp in the middle felt steeper than anything else, and judging by the amount of people walking, they felt the same way! I decided my best chance here was not to look at it, and fix my gaze resolutely on the front wheel & the cobbles immediately in front of them. And this was a good plan, but like all plans, as we have established, it fell apart once we hit the steepest part of the climb. I got slower & slower & eventually ground to a halt. There were too many bikes to get going again, so it was the walk of shame for me, exchanging witty bantz with the locals about the flatness of Flanders. Still, as Meat Loaf once said, 9.5 out of 10 ain't bad.

After a brief pause for the all important FB live for our adoring fan(s?), it was downhill all the way to the finish. Apart from the final 6km along the flat into the wind, which got a bit dull. I was feeling chivalrous so decided to take the wind for a few km to give some of my Team 74 pals a rest. When I stopped at the 1km to go mark to regroup, a French chap nipped past with a cheerful merci!

With all 6 of us still together, James wanted to ride over the finish in formation...but some mug ruined it by accepting the lead out then sprinting past for the win! I slowed down to try & reform the group but it was too little too late! Sorry team. I won't do it next year! But finish together we did and what a great feeling that was. To survive one of the toughest sportives out there, and to do so in the company of your friends & club mates. Everyone had dark moments, particularly on the cobbles, but we stuck together & got each other through. Penge Cycle Club, truly the Pride of SE London.

We found a space in front of a cafe & got  food & beer & waited for others to come in. This club has some fantastic athletes & there were some stunning performances from them - Kate was the second fastest woman, Tash was 12th. Phenomenal. After a while we decided to head back to Gent, and the final great plan of the day - to ride back - duly went awry as the wind picked up & we got tired. But it turned the day into an 87 miler, so every cloud! The rest of the weekend was fantastic too - watching the pro men & women go past us on the Kwaremont was thrilling, enjoyed with beer, currywurst & great company, then the ride into Bruges on Monday morning, when the amazing Tash saw that I was struggling with the pace & eased up a bit & sat in front taking the wind & chatting away. Her price? A beer. Absolute class.

I loved it all. Getting to know people you nod hello to outside the shop. Riding with stronger riders & learning from them. People being generous with their time & patient with Wahoo questions. The support for everyone from everyone else. This club has built a really great ethos, and I feel privileged to be a part of it.

Thanks to everyone - but especially David for organising a wonderful trip, Emily & James M for the encouragement, all the riders in Team 74 on Saturday & Team Tash into Bruges. And Gareth for the soundtrack & the title of this write up!

Roll on next year!

A & B to Brighton

Earlier this year I received an email from Adam from the Bigfoot Cycling Club. Every year they have an annual club trip to the seaside, and every year they open their doors to members of other clubs and members of none. Adam organises a series of training rides of increasing distances to help people who want to give it a go get ready. Knowing that he also ran these for families, I asked my 11 year old daughter if she would like to do it, and she foolishly said yes!

Typically, we had managed to organise other things for the weekends of the first 2 rides, so our first official ride was the 25 miler - at that time about 8 miles further than Bia had ridden previously. We had done a bit of training, cycling to Greenwich & back, along a very flat route & detouring to find any hills we could. Here's us on our first ride to the Cutty Sark.

Cycling is not really Bia's thing, she only had a mountain bike which she had won in a competition from JDRF & the type 1 diabetic cycling team, Novo Norodisk. She was going to Go Ride with Penge CC on a Saturday morning, and the coaches there suggested I put some smooth tyres on it to make her life a bit easier! So when she informed me after the 25 miles we did to Eynsford with Adam and the family group that she didn't really like hills, I wasn't sure how to tell her that the subsequent rides weren't going to be any easier! Especially as the next one included locally renowned beast, Hogstrough Hill, the Hog - or as it became known as she was grinding up it shouting at me "This is Hogrid"! Still, it was a beautiful day, she had made friends with another girl, and they battled on together.

It took a long time though, we had several long breaks in the warm sunshine - no one really wanted the ride to finish! Nevertheless, I was starting to wonder how long it would take to do almost twice the distance if the 30 miler was the best part of 7 hours! I needn't have worried, as Adam had it all in hand...

We didn't get much riding in over Easter in Northumberland, as we had a failed cannula on our one day out which left her with very high blood sugar levels, feeling crap, and unable to continue - so we were rescued from Blyth after 10km.

The week of the 35 mile training ride, Bia was running a high temperature, so we decided that discretion being the better part of valour, we would save ourselves for the big one the following week. All week I was worried that she'd be unwell again, or that her diabetes wouldn't behave. She's been running high quite a lot recently, so I was keen to avoid this. I was also aware that 10 hours of exercise could well be problematic, so I sought the advice of some experts on Twitter & in real life - the consensus was to cut the background insulin by half for the duration, eat jelly babies regularly, and give a smaller proportion of insulin for any food. So I was delighted when she woke up on a solid 10.5 in the morning - this boded well!

After forcing down some porridge, Gaby & H drove us to Hayes for the start of the ride. Not being proud, I had fitted a basket to the front of my hybrid for the "spotty bag", which holds all of Bia's diabetes stuff, and also the jelly baby supply. On the back I had more food as well as the rain jackets - we were going to be out all day.

We got off to an easy start, out through Keston then up to Layhams and along past the White Bear towards Warlingham. The bluebells were out, and it was a lovely morning. There were 14 of us in our group initially, including a seven year old who was going to cycle to the first stop, 20 miles in.

My friends Henry & Chris & their boys dropped by at the first stop to cheer us on, which was lovely. The interest and support we have had throughout the training process, and then on the ride itself has been phenomenal. I'm not as knackered as I look in this picture, though I may be as fat ;-)

After a half hour stop for coffee we carried on, the main challenge of the next third of the ride being Turner's Hill, up to Worth. It's a long drag, though not hugely steep, and by this time (it was midday), Bia was starting to feel the affects of rapidly dropping blood sugar. This made her feel pretty rough, so we stopped on a grass verge, did a test, reduced the background insulin even more, had some more jelly babies (though by now she was getting a bit fed up with them), and a bit of a sit down. After a few minutes, she felt well enough to carry on.

The rest of the group were waiting at the top and gave us a lovely welcome. This was a feature throughout the day, everyone supporting everyone else, encouraging each other and it makes a difference when those little legs are tired. After 15 minutes or so resting and enjoying the views back the way we had come, we set off with more beautiful views all around and nothing nasty in the hill department towards the second stop at Staplefield, where there were chips waiting for us, as well as Gaby, H & Giulia; and a momentary change in atmospheric conditions!

Before the ride, I had shared my story & plan with Alicia at the Queen of the Mountains cycling clothing brand for women. She found it very inspirational and very generously sent Bia a jersey & some arm warmers. B swapped both jerseys throughout the training & on the ride itself - here she is at Staplefield, 2/3 of the way to Brighton & still smiling. Rather appropriately she also had it on as she got over Devil's Dyke, as you can see below.

It was now starting to rain, which we had been expecting, but were hoping wouldn't happen, so out came the raincoats and on we went. Bia was now well past the furthest she had ever gone before, and her legs were starting to go. All the hills were troubling her, but no matter how steep it was, she was determined to finish each hill on her bike - even if she had to walk up part of it. As the rain got heavier, the final challenge grew closer - Devil's Dyke. As a surprise, my brother David came down to support us with his family, to the great delight of Bia, and he also brought his mountain bike along so that we could ride some of the way together. Without him there to help encourage Bia, and to give her a guiding hand up the worst parts of Devil's Dyke, I think she would have walked a lot more, but as it was she rode nearly all of it! Gaby & the support team arrived just as we reached the top, so were there to see her conquer the biggest hill of the course.

The top of Devil's Dyke is the symbolic end really, it's all downhill after this, there are no more hills, so the sense of achievement for all the kids, and the adults, was immense. And Bia had done all of this while her blood sugar was fluctuating, and her legs had gone. Whenever I offered her the chance to bail, she was most indignant - she was going to finish, no matter what, so I couldn't have been more thrilled for her to get the top of the final hill. I don't think she could quite believe what she was doing for much of the day, but she was an absolute trooper, not a whisper of complaint - she just got on with it, walked when she felt she had to - after asking if it would be ok to do so first and apologising!!

At this point my phone battery, and the spare battery, finally died, so I couldn't update people on where we were until after we had finished! However, we knew where we were, and that was a 6 mile, 40 minute ride downhill to the seafront. We enjoyed this part, but by this stage Bia was looking more tired than I have ever seen her, and was absolutely exhausted. She could get herself down the hill, but with nothing in her legs just couldn't catch up with the others in front! It didn't matter because we all regrouped at the lights and on the seafront and finished together!

Hugs, high fives, handshakes & photos all round, and then we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. It was cold, windy & wet down on the beach, typical bracing bank holiday weekend weather, not very conducive to hanging around, and certainly not for the ice-cream I had been looking forward to! One of my local friends had come down with her family to cheer us in, and also had a JDRF banner, which was then employed in a couple of photos, before we loaded up the cars and went for fish & chips. Never was a meal more deserved!

What a day! Bia had made it. She had battled her fluctuating blood sugar, and the hills, and the lack of power in her legs, but she had prevailed. She had ridden 54 miles from Hayes to Brighton. When I asked her the worst thing about the ride, she said it was going up Devil's Dyke. The best thing about the ride? Getting to the top! I don't have the words to say how proud we are of her. There were other kids riding too, some younger, but all had more experience. She had ridden 2 official training rides, 2 rides to Greenwich and .... er....that was it!

When she agreed to do it, we thought it would be a good way to mark the end of primary school, and so we thought we would set up a sponsorship page, starting with a target of £250, and see what happened. Well, to our absolute delight & amazement, over £14000 raised for JDRF is what happened - an absolutely surreal amount of money for an 11 year old to raise, but I think many people took inspiration from this, including some newly diagnosed families, showing that that this juggernaut which has crashed unwelcome into their lives can be used as a force for good, and does not mean that everything has to change. Six years into this journey, being able to give people whose lives have been turned upside down by this diagnosis some hope makes any achy legs more than worthwhile!

So, to the stats! Her diabetes had even generally behaved itself, apart from a wobble about 4 hours in. I was happy for her to be slightly higher than we'd usually like for the day, to cover every eventuality, and it worked out ok. I had the libre scanner to keep an eye on the trends, and that wobbled about a bit, rather like the profile of the ride, but also meant we didn't have to do too many finger prick tests! The medical numbers?

• Reduction of background insulin to 60%, then 30% for the duration of the ride and a few hours afterwards to - this to prevent any nighttime lows once the exercise was finished.
• Starting BG of 10.5
• 12.9 at 0930
• 9.0 at 1140 and then 7.4 at 1300, when she started to feel quite rough – I suspect because, although she was eating, her blood sugar was dropping quickly. Some jelly babies and a sandwich perked her up (as well as a rest) and she went back up to 12 at 1415
• 14.5 at the finish at 1800

The other numbers

• 54 miles ridden
• 9 hours in the saddle - as many breaks as were needed, but nothing longer than 40 minutes. Adam really wanted his fish & chips this year!
• 1 adult group overtaken on the road (to huge cheers!)
• 1.5 packets of jelly babies (H had the other half!)
• An inestimable amount of parental pride and love for this incredible girl.
• A final and completely mind-blowing total of £14,030 raised for JDRF

Massive thanks to:

• Gaby for trusting me to take our daughter on this challenge, on public but largely quiet roads despite her concerns about traffic
• All at Bigfoot who organise this ride every year and invite others to join them, in particular Adam, the stalwart organiser and leader of the younger family ride, a man with the patience of a saint.
• Penge Go Ride for giving Bia the confidence that she could do this, and giving her the skills to do it safely
• The family & friends who came out to support us
• Every one who donated money, sent messages, liked Facebook statuses, tweeted, & otherwise got involved
• The hero of the hour, my amazing daughter, for agreeing to embark on this madcap plan and never ever giving up. I am so so proud of her.

Thanks for reading!

Nightrider 2016

I had been looking forward to Nightrider this year for some time. I have done it twice before, fundraising for JDRF both times but riding on my own the first time and with my friend Mike last year. This time would be different.

Kev, one of the Dads in a facebook support group for parents of children with Type 1 Diabetes, and a keen cyclist, had suggested to the Dads group that we should get a team together to ride as the Diabetes Dads. There was a lot of interest, from people like me who do plenty of cycling, albeit at a leisurely pace, to those like Vincent & Jason who didn't even have bikes when they agreed to do it. In the end, our team was 25 - mainly dads but also some friends who also wanted to show their support for the daily & relentless struggle by helping us raise awareness and funds for JDRF.

We met up around 7pm on Saturday and most of the group headed off to the Lahore Kebab House in Whitechapel for a pre-ride curry in one of London's oldest and largest Punjabi restaurants. Many of us were meeting people we had known on facebook for a long time for the first time in real life, and it was a really nice occasion.

Here's a pic of me enjoying the lamb chops. Protein. Rice & naan also have carbs, so we were nutritionally on solid ground...

Following this, and starting to run a bit late but very relaxed about it, we headed back to Stratford International Car Park to change and get the bikes ready. Typically, after weeks of procrastination, my bloody wheel light didn't fit properly so I was rather gutted not to have the same fantastic images Kev had prepared whizzing round my back wheel. Next year.

Once we eventually left the car park to ride up to the start at the Velodrome, it was properly dark, and we cycled through the one bit of the route with no street lights, which I remembered from last year.

For reasons best known to themselves, Nightrider had decided to start everyone from the Velodrome, instead of the split starts of previous years on opposite sides of London - Crystal Palace was great for me...not to mention a mere 10 minute ride from home. What this led to was big queues to sign in at the start, then big queues at most of the rest stops, so I am not sure they would consider it an unqualified success, but it wasn't as big a balls ache as I had thought it would be (apart from the hour it took me to get 2 miles on the Blackwall Tunnel approach).

Luckily for us, Daniel's wife Julie was on hand at the start and worked some magic for us all to skip the queues to get signed in, so it was only about 25 minutes after the scheduled start that we took a team photo and rolled off to the start. There was a bit of faffing while the organisers held us back to try and let the AC/DC fans leaving the concert at the Olympic Stadium clear, then we were off - around the outdoor cycling track, back onto the road and away into the mysteries of North East London...

The route was very different this year, and not in a bad way. Ally Pally was gone but we still had a stiff climb up to Highgate via Dartmouth Park Road, once we had eventually found it...hilarious drunken folk moved a couple of the signs so we got a bit lost once or twice!

As usual, all sorts of people were out on all sorts of bikes - bromptons, tandems, fixies, baskets on the front, mountain bikes - as always a very different atmosphere to a sportive, with a very different crowd.

While the Diabetes Dads group had wanted to stay together as much as we could, traffic lights & junctions rather swiftly put paid to that, but we were never far from a bike with flashing wheels, and the groups formed and reformed into fluid groups, with plenty of chat, encouragement and high spirits.

The first break point was at the top of Highgate and we all reformed here before heading on up Hampstead Heath. This was the worst I felt all night - curry repeating on me, feeling a bit sick, but it passed and on we went. Spoiler alert - there is a sorry lack of misery & suffering in this blog this year - I have lost a lot of weight, had done some decent training rides, and felt reasonably fit all night!

From Hampstead it was down towards St John's Wood and then we turned along the road past Little Venice - "you won't want to miss this" said the organisers...but it was dark! Doh! At the lights we met some other JDRF riders who turned out to be the 7 strong Zara's Zoomers, riding the 60km route. It was great to chat about our tweenie ten year olds for a while until the traffic lights did their thing again.

This was a change to the previous routes and we cycled up past Holland Park to Notting Hill, then down to Kensington, along past the Royal Albert Hall, past the museums, Sloane Square, Chelsea Barracks, and along Millbank to do a big loop south of the river which was mainly to bring us back over Westminster Bridge and off down Birdcage Walk, up the Mall and round to the ridiculously busy Piccadilly Circus! As usual, traffic jams, people everywhere, mad atmosphere! But the group managed to get split again...

It was now sometime after 3, and we were about halfway. The next section into the slowly lightening sky, was through Rotherhithe, Bermondsey and along to Greenwich. Some pissheads in a taxi gave us some abuse, the only time in 3 years I can remember anything. "Bike virgins" apparently. I laughed so hard my glasses fell off and had to be retrieved from under a car!

Feeling quite cold and stiffening up with every prolonged break, the group, which was now a manageable 6 of Darran, Luc, Daniel, Rory, Jason and myself, decided not to hang around and ride the remaining 30 or so kilometres to the end together. Dawn was breaking as we cycled along to Greenwich, though it was misty and quite chilly. The route took us all the way along to the O2 and then the penultimate bit of misery - Vanbrugh Hill up to Blackheath - which had the decency at least to be short and sharp!

From here it was across the heath then along to Lewisham, past the end of Rory's road in Ladywell and up the long long drag to Crystal Palace via Honor Oak Park and Sydenham Hill. Not easy at 5am after 5.5 hours on the road though.

Being 10 minutes from home had a certain irony, with 15 miles still to go, but we belted down College Road to a welcome pitstop in Dulwich College. A quick coffee and selfie later, we were back on the road, 12 miles left, sense of purpose renewed. 

The ride back into town was punctuated with an attempted intervention for a lad who was passed out hammered on the pavement outside his house. He woke up and staggered off, tired & confused - we chuckled at the thought of him having flashbacks later to these blue and white angels offering him water! But with him behind us, it was back to Tower Bridge, through the cobbled streets of Wapping -  an enjoyably sadistic touch, then near to our curry house and back to Olympic Park, passing the almost suitably named Pancras Close on the way. Then, not long after 6am, we were finished!

Through the finish line and we posed for a picture - at which point the photographer clocked the JDRF tops, told us he was type 1 himself, and thanked us for doing it. Like Dan & Julie's daughter, who had emotionally waved us off earlier, he really appreciated our efforts - even though one night without kip to raise money for a cure for what our kids put up with 24/7/365 isn't so bad! I think I take it for granted sometimes that because I have a good support network, others do too - but it isn't always the case, and a lot of folk - both adults and kids - don't know anyone else with Type 1, so occasions like this mean a lot to them. I am just glad to be able to my bit and try to make a small difference to their lives.

Photos done for now, we met some of the others who had finished and got in the queue for the deliciously welcome bacon sarnie and brew. Marvellous! Over the next 45 minutes the rest of the Diabetes Dads came over the line, to cheers & more photos. We all exchanged tall tales of our antics and eventually made our farewells and dragged ourselves away to go home. One last climb up to the 5th floor of the garage and we packed the cars, said goodbye again, and went our separate ways, already planning our next adventure...Paris!

I had a lovely welcome back at home and after a shower, parked the kids in front of the telly and attempted to sleep. Truth is though that I was still buzzing, as was my phone from all the updates in the CWD group on facebook! I managed a bit of sleep before H brought me back to earth, requiring my bum wiping services! Eventually gave up at about 1pm and took the kids to buy some supplies. Even caught the end of the Tour de Penge in the park, not having got back in time to ride it.

What a great night, with a great bunch of people. Huge shout outs to all the Diabetes Dads, and Zara's Zoomers, everyone doing it for JDRF, but special mention in particular to:

Kev, for organising us all to do this, running the fundraising page, the wheel lights, Lahore - and for rising from his sick bed of 4 days to make the journey to London from the South Coast to ride with us all. Legend.

Paul, for whom 100km overnight wasn't enough, so he also cycled to London from the Midlands over 2 days, just to up the ante. Legend.

Vincent, for his endless supply of bacon memes, good humour, doing it on a £70 bike from Tesco - and Baconnaise. Legend.

Luc & Jason who pretty much doubled their previous longest rides on the night itself. Legends.

The chap who fell off 3 times at lights,  then once more for luck as he crossed the finish - damn those cleats! You shall remain nameless but schadenfreude prevents me from not mentioning it...the cycling equivalent of the banana skin, and hopefully you weren't too bruised! You have to see the funny side ;-) Legend.

Huge thanks to all the team, everyone I rode with on the night, all the sponsorship & support. It is really appreciated - and currently at a fabulous £14,500! Adding in Zara's Zoomers, nearly £20,000! Just wow.

Sponsorship page is here if you missed it!

Until next year, hope is in a cure - and here's that man again:

Upon Westminster Bridge, Wordsworth

EARTH has not anything to show more fair;
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty.
This city now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky,—
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!