TRAINING CYCLE #8

"We can either make ourselves miserable, or happy and strong.  The amount of work is the same."
~Francesca Reigler

After so many training rides battling busy London streets, roads and towpaths, it was such a relief to set a plan in motion for getting out of the city. I'd been longing to get to New Forest in Hampshire for some time, and with food and gear packed up the night before, I woke up Saturday morning ready to get an early train to Brockenhurst.

And it was absolutely, utterly, tipping it down.

I was joined by my ever-supportive cycle buddy Ben, and considering the state of the weather we momentarily wondered just how motivated we were in getting out on the bikes. Yet as much as I wanted to crawl under a duvet with a cup of tea (oh how much I wanted it!) I knew how important it was for me to get out cycling in the rain. I had to prepare for the reality that my four days to Paris could be wet - a situation which would be extremely testing. While I had done a lot of physical training, it was the psychological training I had to tackle.

After an hour and a half on a packed train we arrived at Brockenhurst. Ben was renting a bike from a shop outside the station, and once this was sorted we stood in the tipping rain, facing a long day ahead of wet, mud, hills and a cold biting wind. Despite my absolute reluctance this was exactly the sort of day I needed to take on.

Cycling, like so many things, is a mental game as much as a physical one. In fact, even moreso. I'd already established that mentally, the first 30 miles are the worst. Once I reach the 30 mile mark, everything becomes easier - this is merely a state of mind: the difference between feeling you have a way to go, and feeling you've already come a long way.

Today would test my mental strength on a whole new level. And of those first 30 miles, the first fifteen were the absolute PITS.

With gravel tracks turned into slush, heavy rain falling hard, and a pressing wind coming in sideways, it was so far from the cycling conditions I'd imagined when I'd planned this trip to New Forest. My gears were still not fixed from last weekend, meaning I had a limited range, and this made my getting uphills all the more frustrating as I tried, and failed, to hit the lowest gears. I felt knackered, unmotivated, and uncomfortable. All in all I was not enjoying myself.

As the rain poured down, we followed disused railway lines, and passed along soggy country lanes. Cows huddled morosely under trees, and wild ponies watched with disinterest as we splattered past.

There were undulations galore; steep rises and slippery drops, in some places being forced to make way on narrow roads for passing 4WDs. We stopped for a snack break and to put on our few extra layers under some trees which provided rather meagre shelter from the rotten weather.



At the fifteen mile mark, it all changed.

We were pushing up a steep climb; a torn-up stretch of road which saw several vehicles overtake us. As I approached the climb I prepared myself to start walking my bike up any minute now; I shifted into the lowest gear I could, straining up the hill, hurting, soaking, completely fed up. F-ckedy f-ck f-cking hills. I hated this. My mood was black. I was ready to throw my beloved bike into the shrub-filled ditch beside me and get the next train home. Then, over halfway up, out of habit I attempted to shift into my lowest gear again, and received the usual response of grinding and clicking, before the bike shifted itself back into a higher gear.

I struggled and swore. My head filled with a tirade of obscenities and suddenly I felt my whole body rise up with rage. Out of anger with my gears, the weather, these goddamn f-cking hills, I found an inner resource I hadn't known was there... suddenly I picked up speed and raced my bike up the rest of that hill. Ben, behind me, said he struggled to keep up with me. I did not stop until I reached the top of that hill. It was as though something had actually clicked within me. And I realised that I had just pushed myself up more than a hill - I'd got myself right over a mental hurdle.

After that moment everything was better. The fact I had cycled up the entire hill - when I had been so convinced I would walk the whole thing - felt like an enormous achievement. It was just one pithy hill - and it wasn't even the biggest incline I'd encountered - but my state of mind was all set up for failure. Somehow, when I could not change the gears on my bike, I shifted the gears in my mind.

Things picked up and the rain eventually died down, as we carried on for miles of undulating hills. There were some testing rises, and then some absolutely stonking great downhills to boot. It was obvious my mind had shifted and I felt excitement, rather than dread, when faced with an uphill rise. Forget you, hills! I eat hills like you for breakfast!

It was so great once the rain subsided. New Forest is beautiful, and apart from occasional cars we had the roads to ourselves. There was none of the stop-start of cycling in London; the only obstacle we encountered was a wild horse who had decided that actually the middle of the road was the best place to stand, thank you very much.

It turned out to be the absolute best day's cycling yet. If I had spaces like this to ride in all the time I would be phenomenally happy.

Ben and I completed 44 miles all up, before we had to get the rental bike back. Not a huge amount in terms of mileage, but we both felt we'd put a hell of a lot into the day. Most of the afternoon consisted of conquering rolling hills, constant ups and downs, and it was the most thorough hill training I've had.

Most importantly, I've had the chance to really understand just how powerful the mind is in overcoming physical obstacles. I now realise, more than ever, that I can achieve only what I tell myself I can achieve. If I believe I will fail, then I will fail. There will be many moments en route to Paris when I will want to swear, shout, give up, and go home - this much I know - but I have the confidence in myself that I can overcome it. It's always going to be mind over matter.












Other good news is that I've taken my bike in to get the gears repaired, so at least it will be smoother cycling in future. But I cannot forget about my mental gears - because hell, at the end of the day, they're the ones which I really need to get me there.