Cycling to Paris

I cycled from London to Paris on my wee bicycle this July and have created a separate bike-themed blog HERE which covers all the two-wheeled adventure.

Of course, don't forget to tune back in here for everything else!

Thirteen Miles

Running? Moi? Get outta here. Running, as far as I've always been concerned, was something crazy people did - the kind of people who swim outdoors in winter and eat raw eggs. I wasn't one of those people. I've always hated running.

Yet, because I hated running so much, I always wanted to run a half marathon.

I like a challenge.

Look, I'm no athlete, but I believe there's nothing more exciting than discovering how far you can go under your own steam. I once raced up a Munro and then cried when my legs gave out just below the summit. I got to the top though, and when I did, I felt absolutely amazing. It's that feeling which is worth all the pain and the slog.

Then in May this year, I heard that the brilliant Muireann (aka Bangs and a Bun) had signed up for the London Royal Parks half marathon.
"That girl hates running even more than me," I thought. "Cripes, well if she can do this, I have no excuse."

So I signed up right there on the spot, and took a place with the charity Scope, who strive for people with disabilities to fulfill their potential. I like that idea a LOT. That's what life's about, no? Discovering one's potential?

I know that to some people thirteen miles is a cinch. Just like there are countless people who can cover several Munros in a single day. But to me, this was a personal challenge, and frankly, that's the best kind of challenge to undertake. Muireann's amazing efforts and training updates inspired me to work at this, and my Twitter followers egged me on and helped me raise £550 for Scope. I really don't think I would have made it without the incredible encouragement of the online community.

And so, after sixteen weeks of training, the day had arrived.
This is how it went.

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I was standing in a crowd of thousands, donning my least attractive ensemble, and wondering what on earth I was doing there. Look at me, pretending to be a runner! Pffft. Yet I was excited, I couldn't deny it, and nervous energy was zinging through my whole body like electricity. Muireann stood next to me, tapping on her phone and showing me some of the supportive messages sent to the both of us via Twitter. I had to laugh. Good grief, people are awesome. I took a deep breathe, briefly wondered what I was in for, and put my earphones in. My goal time was two and a half hours. I had absolutely no idea if that was even realistic. I had never run thirteen miles before. Ever.

Then the crowd slowly began to move and we crossed the ever-looming start line. We were OFF!

Immediately I decided this was awesome. I loved it! The vibe! The energy! The crowds! I could keep this up. I was having fun!!!

(This feeling lasted for approximately 2 miles.)

Muireann quickly moved ahead, spurred on by her amazing running friend Charlie, as I got stuck into a steady rhythm of my own. As the masses passed through the park, a rather stocky photographer raced alongside us, trying to get the attention of one runner in particular. After a lot of running and yelling, he finally got his photo, then stopped and, hands on his knees, struggled to catch his breath. We runners couldn't help but chuckle. No sympathy from us, mate! We have a LONG way to go!

Racing in that rainbow river of people, we passed Big Ben just as it struck 10am on 10/10/2010. I grinned like a lunatic. I took a moment to absorb the fact that I was running in the middle of the road on Westminster Bridge. When would I ever be here again? I made sure to drink in the views on both sides. Oh London, you beautiful wench.

I felt on top of the world.

About 45 minutes in, racing along the Embankment, I felt a stitch coming on and realised I had increased my pace too much. Oops. I already had a pre-ordained tactic for avoiding a debilitating stich, which was to walk for 30-seconds or so to catch my breath. So I did just that.

However, at that precise moment, I found the world's jolliest girl jogging alongside me.
"Come on now, keep running!" she pipped.
Her encouraging smile was brighter than the surface of the sun. I couldn't help but admire her motivation. I smiled back. And wished she would go away.

All the water I drank, coupled with all the nerves meant I took the opportunity for a loo break. It was a pay toilet and there was a poor race attendent handing out 50p coins to each runner. Times like this I wish I was a bloke, and could join the vast numbers marking their territory all over the streets of London. I must have lost a few minutes queuing for the Ladies'. But then, the best thing about the loo stop was the chance to have sit down. (Yep. I said it.)

Back on the route, I felt truly alive, and excitedly waved to the people watching from Embankment bridge.

After mile four my ankles began to ache but I just stopped to rotate them a bit and carried on. I'd have to just ride out the discomfort - it was early in the race and I guessed - correctly - there would be more to come.

I kept up the pace and pushed on... I was feeling good my friend, feeling good. Naturally it was about this point that I was overtaken by a man in a tiger suit. The feeling I was being slightly mocked quickly made way for amusement. Hard not to giggle with so many ridiculous costumes in the fray - including two chaps carrying a giant fish.

I wasn't in a costume, but I did have vest with my name on it. Scope encouraged their runners to write their names on their tops so people could yell out to them as they ran by. I wasn't certain this would actually work, but decided if anything, it's probably helpful to wear a giant name tag, in case I went insane with exhaustion and got lost in a forest somewhere.

Then I heard it. A cry from the sidelines. "GO CLAIRE! YOU CAN DO IT!" I did a double take to discover perfect strangers were egging me on. THAT was brilliant.

I raced past Buckingham Palace, grinning like a maniac and wondering if all of this was really happening.





As time went on the pain in my ankles subsided and moved upwards, to my shins and calf muscles. I stopped, did some stretches and gave them a massage. Come on legs!! Let's work together on this!

It was a while later, as the route took us back through Hyde Park, that I saw one of the most incredible sights. There were people handing out Percy Pigs. I grabbed up a handful and spent the next 10 minutes hoping like hell nobody I knew would recognise me as I gorged on candy like a starving pack animal. My entire being was buzzing with joy (and a pre-emptive sugar high).

Oh Percy Pigs. You glorious sugary gelatinous swines of joy.

A little later, still on a Percy Pig high, I looked around at the crowds, the supporters, the sun sparkling on the Serpentine, and my whole being burst with happiness. (And sugar). I ran past the Scope tent and they all whooped and yelled and cheered my name. "COME ON CLAIRE!" I grinned and waved my arms in the air. YES!! I felt SUPERFANTASTIC! I saw some little children holding out their hands and without a second thought I high fived them all. YEAH! Then, noting their expressions of uncertainty, it dawned on me that perhaps they weren't high-fiving just anyone - that more likely, their mother was just behind me. Realising I may have just high-fived some stranger's kids, I sprinted off at top speed. I overtook swarms of people in an instant. Apparently mortification is an excellent untapped source of energy.

A little while later a kid with a giant foam hand was definitely high-fiving everyone. I knew it was safe. I high-fived that kid with GUSTO.

As the route twisted and turned through Hyde Park, I began to slow. By the ninth mile my right leg started to give up. Running on it really hurt - enough to slow me down significantly. I stopped, stretched a bit, ran on, but was capable of nothing more than a limping stride. I struggled to run ("Sod the pain!") but after each short burst was limping again - I imagined I looked a bit like a wounded animal. Although, there were quite a few wounded animals around me. A lot of people hurting. And at this point I was passing a few people being treated by ambulance staff, including a couple of unconcious runners being given oxygen.

I was still standing - I can do this!

My original plan had been to stick with the pre-established pace I'd trained for - which could keep me running for long periods quite happily - and then speed up and sprint the last mile or two. What I had not anticipated was how much pain my joints would be in. As I stumbled down a tree-lined path past the mile 11 marker, the Royal Albert memorial looming up ahead, I knew my original plan would be thwarted. I was in no position to sprint. Disappointment set in, and I tried once again to go faster, but continued to be slowed by the pain in my leg. I gritted my teeth, and set into a quick-limping hobble, pushing on towards the finish.

I cursed my leg. My stupid leg. Oh leg, why have you forsaken me?!

Suddenly up ahead, the finish line loomed. The crowds of supporters were dense on both sides, and everyone was cheering each runner down their final path to glory. This was it! This was what I came here for! All this work! All this time! One way or another I was going to make it!

I guess I had something of a Cool Runnings moment. Because out of nowhere, I sprinted. Grimacing, I raced my way towards the finish, and I made it, in 2hrs 44mins 14 secs. My whole body hurt, yet crossing the line felt amazing.

(And then I felt like I was going to throw up, and I had to have a sit down).

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So. Am I going to go out an run a marathon now?
No. And you can all stop bloody asking. I hate running.

But I might do another half marathon. I'd like to see if I can better my time.... as I say, I do like a challenge....

Nothing To Lose

In 2009 I happened upon a documentary about an Englishman who, rather unusually, cycled from Alaska to Argentina on a tandem bicycle. On his own. The really compelling part, however, was that he would pick up strangers along the way to ride in the second seat. For once, I thought, there is an adventure tale that I can feel something for. This was an expedition about people - the physical challenge was secondary to the bonding of strangers and cultures. There was no segregation of possibilities between myself and some hearty sportsman breaking a world record by climbing a mountain barefoot at record speeds. (I haven't really heard of anyone doing this. Although am sure it won't be long.)

I was so taken by this journey that I kept an eye on what this Englishman was going to do next. His name is Dominic Gill, and as it turns out, his next project was going to be even more incredible.

So incredible, in fact, that I wanted more people to know about it. I spoke to Dom Gill and pitched an article to a silly number of publications, but nobody seemed interested. I'm used to pitches and proposals being ignored, but this time it made me feel disappointed and frustrated in equal measure. "Don't ignore this one," I pleaded silently. Yet ignore it they all did.

All I want to do is tell this story, however, so if I have to do so here, on my blog, then so be it.

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THE DOM & ERNIE PROJECT

Ernie Greenwald, a 74-year-old from California, is going to fulfil the dream of a lifetime by cycling across the America he’s never known. It is no easy feat, but in this case it will be a far greater challenge, because Greenwald has lymphocytic leukemia.
Travelling with him is British adventurer and film-maker Dominic Gill, who proposed the idea to Greenwald after a chance meeting in 2006. Despite his condition, or perhaps in spite of, Greenwald accepted. As Gill explains, “Ernie wants to prove as much as possible that life is for the living. It’s almost as if he’s woken from a dream and thought ‘I’ve got nothing to lose’.”

Together Greenwald and Gill will travel coast-to-coast across the USA on a two-seater bicycle, taking in the country that Greenwald has lived in his whole life and never had the chance to explore. They will discover a variety of landscapes and culture, and hope encounter some good old American hospitality along the way.

Gill, 29, previously cycled a tandem bike from Alaska to Argentina for the documentary and book Take a Seat, inviting the people he met along the way to fill the second seat and join him in his adventure. It was on this journey that he met Ernie Greenwald, whose days as a keen cyclist were, it seemed, well and truly behind him, but who overcame his hesitation and took the opportunity to get back in the saddle.

They met while Gill was stopping for refreshments in the quiet concrete city of Lompoc, central California. Local resident Greenwald, a cycling enthusiast, was studying the tandem with some interest.
“He didn’t look like a keen cyclist anymore,” admitted Gill, but he offered Greenwald the opportunity to ride with him the next day. Greenwald’s hesitation was followed by the explanation that he had to stay and take care of his ailing wife. This might have been the end of their encounter, but 20 minutes later Greenwald came back and accepted Gill’s invitation. The next morning Gill and Greenwald cycled the 60-odd miles to Santa Barbara in the sultry Californian heat.

While physically it was tough, Greenwald enjoyed the challenge. It was not until later that Gill learned the sorry truth: that Greenwald’s wife had died six months before, and on top of that he was also suffering from chronic lymphatic leukaemia (CLL). Yet Greenwald relished his time on the tandem. Gill says it was as if Greenwald realised that he “could wallow in self pity or take an opportunity of a lifetime.”

Since this chance meeting, Gill could not forget Greenwald’s story. So he came up with a particularly edifying plan for his next adventure. “I contacted Ernie and asked if he would ride across America, if I facilitated it,” explains Gill. “He said he trusted me, and agreed.” And so the Dom & Ernie project was born.

Gill and Greenwald will set off from Santa Monica Pier in Los Angeles, on June 26 2010, cycling through the bottom of Utah, Montana, the Mid-west and across to the Eastern coast where they will finish in New York City. On the way they hope to take in Death Valley, the bright lights of Las Vegas, the wild grandeur of Yellowstone National Park, “windy” Chicago, and North Dakota.

The two will be cycling a Pino Tour bike from Hase - a semi-recumbent tandem. The special features of the bike include the position of the gears and steering rod at the back, rather than at the front, as on a typical tandem. This allows Greenwald to ride in front whilst still being the stoker’s position (which is normally at the back). The Pino Tour also has a freewheel mechanism which allows Greenwald to stop pedalling when he gets tired, and Gill to carry on cycling.

The two cyclists will also be accompanied by Greenwald’s RV, in which he currently lives alone with his two small dogs. As well as the benefit of carrying their gear and supplies, this will make the journey physically and emotionally easier on Greenwald.
“By taking the RV he has his bed, his dogs, nothing changes,” explains Gill. “And anything that gets Ernie across the States on a bicycle is good with me.”

Physically, Greenwald will have to be carefully monitored. Due to the cancer limiting his blood cells he gets very short of breath. He also has an erratic heart so has to take medication and therefore feels the cold.
“Ernie will struggle,” admits Gill. “But I will also struggle. I will be carrying about 70% of Ernie’s weight. However strong Ernie is, his upper ceiling is low.”
Greenwald’s oncologist has agreed to be at the end of a phone if needed, and there will be tests every month for his blood cell count and check his metabolic level.

Gill says the Dom & Ernie project is not a test of Greenwald’s physical endurance, but an opportunity for him to explore his country. “This is not about bravado, it’s about showing people adventure is for everyone. Ernie wants to give as good as anyone else gives.”

The Dom & Ernie project hopes to raise donations for Livestrong & the Lance Armstrong Foundation, which provides support for people suffering from cancer across the globe.

While this challenge is largely about Greenwald fulfilling the dream of a lifetime, Gill also has his own additional motivation for taking the journey.
“I want to change the misconception that the world is out to get you. We’re going to the most fear-filled nation, and I want to prove that if you stick your neck out, you won’t get your head chopped off.”

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SINCE THE ARTICLE....

Of course, this is not the whole story. In late May Ernie's health took a sharp drop and since then he has been in and out of hospital, and has had to undertake a brief course of chemotherapy.

LATEST UPDATE

Just yesterday, Dom made the announcement that Ernie would not be able to make the journey. At least, not the whole journey, and not yet. 

"I have just been to see Ernie in hospital. I have decided that he's not going to make the journey... maybe a portion of it, but not all of it."


I cannot begin to imagine the disappointment Ernie will be facing. One can only hope he will be strong enough to undertake at least part of his goal. However, it seems that now the project is going to become something special for even more people. The journey that Ernie has hoped to undertake to inspire others may become their own journey.

"During a visit to see Ernie in hospital two days ago, he said in no uncertain terms that the show must go on, if not with him, with other willing volunteers."
Dom is now looking for anyone with any ailment or disability which may have prevented them from completing a cycling journey or other physical challenge - or simply anyone who wants a "pick me up" - to take Ernie's place in the stoker's seat for a while. It's Take a Seat part 2, but with a greater goal.

Can you help?

- Do you have a friend with a disability that prevents them from getting outdoors as much as they would like?
- Do they live anywhere approximately on the Dom & Ernie cycling route ?
- Would they be excited about the prospect of a cross-country cycle journey on a tandem?
- Would they be happy to talk to a hand-held camera on the bicycle (held by Dom)?
- Would they be prepared to camp if all equipment was provided by way of a support vehicle (that can also be used to travel in should a problem arise)?

If the answer is yes to all of these, Dom would love to hear from you or them. He says "Being fit and strong is not necessary (I can take up the slack) but being prepared to cycle for 2 to 20 days and being up for the challenge is.The Dom & Ernie team are currently trying to source funding to ensure their riders have return travel to their start point."

"The journey - with an almost confirmed departure date of Wed July 3rd 2010 - has the potential to not only make an incredible story but provide and inspirational example to those that are striving to get out and achieve something in the face of adversity. We are all hoping that Ernie, the inspiration behind the project, will be well enough to undertake a stage of this journey, but for the time being will be relieved as and when he makes a full and speedy recovery. In the meantime, help us find others will to give adventure cycling a try - no previous experience necessary! Can you help us keep this dream alive?"

You can contact Dom Gill via the project's Facebook page, and to learn more about the project, visit www.domandernie.com. Please spread the word, and let's show Ernie, and Dom, and everyone involved, absolute support.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possible find out how far one can go."
~ T.S.Eliot