Love and 100 miles

RideLondon100 has been a milestone in my vision since its inception three years ago.

I took a place for Tommy's, the baby charity, last year and began training. It was stressful and I didn't enjoy it one bit. Getting my strength and fitness back after two pregnancies and births in quick succession, getting my confidence back, and finding the time to rack up the miles felt like another chore on the list, another thing making life difficult.

So I deferred my place to 2015. As luck would have it my lovely friend Kerry Bircher from Revolution Cycling came to me with an absolutely brilliant training programme with a fantastic bunch of women, and so my fate for 2015 was sealed. I was Riding London, and Noel signed up to join me and help raise more cash for Tommy's.

Training was tough but brought huge victories for me, mastering cleats at last, the first time I rode more than 50 miles, the last long ride I did before RideLondon when I breezed down to my parents house via a roundabout route of about 55 miles barely breaking a sweat. Getting to know the amazing women I rode with every month and watching us all progress and become stronger, faster and fitter.

Perhaps because I had built the ride up so much in my head I was pretty nervous all Saturday, and on Sunday morning as Noel and I lined up with the dawn, I was excited but fearful. Fear has been a real theme for me this year, and it was there on Sunday. I was afraid for Noel, who had a stomach bug and was unsure if he could go the distance. I was afraid for myself, unsure if I could really get round the course in the time allowed. 

But courage has also been a bit of a theme for me this year. Noel led the way with great courage in even starting the ride with a stomach bug and as soon as we got going the adrenaline carried him through. And me. I have never ridden so fast - the first 20 miles absolutely flew by and we notched up half of the distance in just three hours. I think we both felt a bit apprehensive that it felt too easy, and more than once we told each other we wouldn't be able to keep up with our blistering early pace.

We didn't get the chance to find out, as my phone battery packed in and my Strava with it, and we were delayed for a very long time at Leith Hill and for shorter periods through Dorking and at Headley. By the time we were able to pick up the pace again, just outside Esher, we were pretty well rested from a slow, stop-start 30 miles or so. The final 20 miles flew by. Noel nearly vomited as we approached the Mall (gels + protein bars + stomach bug = not comfortable) but the utterly epic finish proved the best medicine of all and we finished, as we rode, strong and together. Holding hands, actually. Why not eh?

Riding 100 miles with my best friend, having raised a four-figure sum of money for an amazing charity, is hard to beat. I will not forget it in a hurry and having shared the experience with Noel makes it truly special.

I also want to say a huge THANK YOU to every single person who cheered us on. The streets of London, Dorking and Kingston were lined with noisy, enthusiastic spectators and cheering squads from all the major charities, and it made all the difference. Most of the quiet country roads were full of spectators camped out to enjoy the show, and their support really lifted all of us. It was unforgettable.

Noel pointed out it's probably the most time we've spent together without children since we first had them. I certainly can't remember feeling closer or more connected to him. Although I'm sure he could have ridden the course much faster even with an upset stomach, the fact that he stayed by my side the entire way round means more to me than I can put into words.

Our page is still open if you would like to sponsor us and help us raise even more for Tommy's.

The power of the bike

When I pledged to ride 100 miles last August for Tommy's, the baby charity, it's safe to say I really didn't appreciate what I was signing up for.

Once I realised the enormity of the commitment I'd taken on, a 100-mile bike ride less than a year after giving birth to my second child in 20 months, I deferred my place until this year.

I honestly think had it not been for the help and support of some truly amazing women I would not be ready to line up in a few weeks time for RideLondon 100. I would have had to just drop out.

Last year I easily completed a 10k run and a 40 mile sportive with no real training. Initially I though it would be no trouble, with a couple of longer training rides, to push that distance up by another 60.

Fresh-faced after 40 miles

But what I found when I started doing longer rides was it's not just a case of keeping your legs going.

Pain sets in where I didn't expect it to - pain in my back from being hunched over the bars for such a long time, pain on my sit-bones from the abysmal saddle that finances don't allow me to replace, pain in my feet from them numbing in the cleats I have finally managed to embrace (small wild party for me!), pain in my shoulders where I hunch them when I get tired.

Negativity set into my mind, the reasons why I couldn't or shouldn't do this, the foolishness of what I was attempting when I had two children at home awaiting my attention, chiding myself for the guilt I felt for being away from them, then chiding myself for chiding myself!

Then a child's nursery rhyme (Waltzing Matilda, yesterday) would pop into my head and that would be my accompaniment for the next 30 or so miles.

It's not exactly been a cheap process either. There's been all manner of unexpected little and not-so-little costs to upgrading my riding from the occasional longer distance effort, to a serious training plan. New tyres, bits of kit, replacements for bits that wear down and fall off - the training is hard on my bike, and if I'm honest it's hard on me.

After my first group training session back in February

It's hard hauling myself out of bed at 5.50am for an hour of hill reps before Noel goes to work. It's hard devoting pretty much entire days to longer training rides when we have so much to cram into our precious weekends - family time, time to ourselves, errands, housework, the general business of everyday life as a family. It's hard on Noel the day of a long ride because I'm anxious and afraid and even though I work super-hard not to take it out on him, I'm certainly less pleasant to be around.

For all of these reasons I know had it not been for the training programme I have been taking part in, run by Revolution Cycling, I would not have been able to keep up with my training.

Going out with a group of women who are in it with me - that's the most powerful motivator. Having people to ride with when I don't feel like it, when it hurts, when I am so tired from yet another bad night with Violet that I could lie down and sleep at ANY point.

After our second group training ride, for which I dressed 'optimistically' and froze the entire way round!

Yesterday I listened to myself talking to some of my training group and everything that came out of my mouth was negative. I was finding training stressful. For various reasons I didn't complete the full distances of the last two rides and I felt ashamed about that. The 64-mile sportive a few of us took part in that was far harder than I'd anticipated, despite having done the distance before, and took forever for me to drag myself around. And so on.

And while I was moaning away, there we all were. Riding together. One member of our party with a badly cut knee from her second fall in her cleats. One who had eschewed the sportive last month in favour of an ascent of Mont Ventoux. One who was riding 100 miles that very day in the memory of her late husband, fired up by her challenge, visibly stronger and more powerful than I'd ever seen her ride before. One who could barely speak at the top of Box Hill after 55 miles on a blazing hot day, still riding.

All of us with our own stories and our own reasons for riding.

All of us determined and focused, smiling and high five-ing at the top of hills, checking in with each other regularly, sharing something and being something that was greater than the sum of its parts.

All of us truly inspiring. Including me. Me, who has learned so much about myself, about my body and my mind, about my bike, about cycling, about motivation, and honestly, about life in general through this process.

Me, who appears to have lost a stone in weight since February. Me, in cleats, after terrifying myself in them last year, finally having got over that hurdle, felt the fear and done it anyway.

Me, a full-time mother to two fully dependent children, one of whom is still breastfeeding voraciously and waking regularly at night, who still drags herself out of bed at 5.50am for those hill reps.

There I was too, smiling. And there I will be on August 2 and I will ride those 100 miles. Smiling.

That's the power of the bike.

Noel and I are riding RideLondon100 together to raise money for Tommy's, the baby charity. Please sponsor us here.

RideLondon 100 training

This weekend was the second meet up of the Revolution Cycling coaching programme for 100-mile sportives. I got to know Kerry Bircher at Revolution through my lovely friend Adele and Kerry was kind enough to ride with me last year when I was experiencing some really big issues around fear on my bike.

I've mentioned before that since having Violet my balance is all off, and I have also found myself just more fearful in general, on my bike and in everyday life. In fact last week I had a very nasty near-miss with an ambulance (while driving my car, not on my bike) and it was so terrifying I came over all lightheaded and panicky on the motorway! Luckily my dad was with me so he drove for a while until I felt calm enough to take the wheel again.

I think it's just a biological reaction to being responsible for two very young vulnerable lives. I can see logically that the world hasn't become a scarier place, I take the same risk going down a hill fast on a bike or driving a car as I did before. But I think something is going on on a more subconscious or possibly a hormonal level. I have a lot more to lose these days. I have to be more careful with myself.

The thing I loved about riding with Kerry last year was that she was completely understanding but also very encouraging. She's a mum herself so she gets how I feel, but she also seems to know exactly how much pushing I need. Since I started this training programme I have felt so much more confident on the bike and I have been motivated to really make time to train. I can't realistically get out on the bike daily, much as I'd like to, but I can get up early and run, or do some yoga, and most weeks I'm managing three rides a week.

Trainers ℅ adidas 

Having somebody like Kerry and her lovely colleague Holly on hand to motivate and push (gently) as well as support and encourage me has been a really major factor in me taking the whole endeavour of RideLondon 100 a lot more seriously.

On Saturday we went on our first group ride, a 30-miler around some of the RideLondon 100 route and nearby roads. It was a great way to practice group riding, something I haven't done much of, on actual roads after an introduction at the Hillingdon circuit last month.

The ride itself was a combination of riding as a close-knit group, and going at our own pace up and down some decent climbs out in the Surrey Hills. I find group riding takes a lot of concentration. There seems a lot to think about, staying on the wheel of the rider in front, road hazards, cars, pace, brakes, gears, signals and communication. It's very absorbing and the miles seem to just whizz past.

Once out into the countryside I turned into an excited child and while some of the riders took hills at a more sedate pace I tore up and down them like a dog chasing a tennis ball. Holly commented that I was obviously feeling strong - I'll say. I don't know if it's the training, the fact that I've cut added sugar out of my diet, or just the fact that I had a morning to myself on my bike in the company of some awesome women, but I was definitely on my game.

This week I was interviewed by a big health and fitness magazine for a feature on getting more women on bikes. The journalist asked me what the best advice I'd ever been given around building confidence was and I found this a hard question to answer. There is no one thing a person can say or advise to build confidence on the bike. The way to build confidence on a bike, is to get on a bike.

My confidence was low last year and I didn't have enough time to dedicate to riding to really improve it. This year I am more committed and I can feel myself getting more and more confident every time I ride. The group rides and meet ups are pushing me along in leaps and bounds. I'm more committed to my fitness off the bike too, and last weekend I ran seven miles without even realising it.

Maybe it's just the promise of spring and warmer weather, but I'm definitely finding more energy and motivation and the more I train the more I want to train. It's a very happy circle. I'm looking forward to next month's ride already!

Noel and I are both riding RideLondon 100 for Tommy's, if you would be so kind as to sponsor us to raise money for this amazing charity please do so here.

Jersey ℅ adidas 

Fear and flow

Last weekend I went to Hillingdon for a coaching session with Kerry Bircher at Revolution Cycling, the first in the buildup to RideLondon 100. Going at all was actually quite a big thing. I find myself reluctant to travel far from my daughters physically, it's not a conscious thought process and I don't sit and worry about all the things that could go wrong in my absence. But I definitely struggle to be geographically too far away from them.

Hillingdon isn't exactly miles away but it's the other side of London and far enough to feel significant. I almost didn't go. But I also desperately, desperately wanted to go. RideLondon 100 is my commitment to myself (and to Tommy's, and to Kerry!).

Last year I really struggled with fear on my bike. I had a brief flirtation with cleats that just made me more fearful and anxious, and I had to go back to ordinary pedals. I struggled with balance, something seems to have happened to my body since having Violet and I just don't feel as centred, I get dizzy really easily and I just don't feel as content and settled on a bike as I used to. I struggled with descending, fear on busy roads, and just a sense of all not being well.

I had lost the ability to get into that state of flow whereby I stop thinking and just do. Every time I rode I was thinking too much, worrying, my mind constantly whirring away, never still. Riding my bike used to be a great way to just forget everything and lose myself in the moment. But for obvious reasons I find it very difficult to just 'forget' my children, and I was finding it doubly difficult to forget myself and my fears, and just go with the flow.

I don't know if it was being on a closed circuit or being in a group or just the very powerful motivational effect of Kerry - who is most definitely in the right career. But by the time I was halfway through our three-hour session I just wanted to fling my bike about like I was 10 years old again. There's a really tasty corner on the  circuit down a fairly gentle descent, anybody who has ridden there will know the one I mean, and I wanted to ride that corner ALL DAY LONG. I was on the drops most of the time, without even thinking about it.

I wasn't thinking, full stop. Even during the group riding, something that's pretty unfamiliar to me. There was eight of us in total and we spent the last 10-15 minutes riding as a peleton. Initially I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to stay in the middle of a group of riders, keep pace, not crash, not run into anybody, and so on. But as it turns out it's as natural as breathing, and once you're in it, everything flows.

I'm so grateful to Kerry and her lovely colleague Holly for the coaching, and I can't wait until our next session which will be a group ride in March. Every month we will all ride together and I love the idea of forming a little group, us all becoming accustomed to riding together to become something bigger than our parts. Group riding relies on communication. There's so many analogies for life in the process. Apparently I'm feeling quite deep and meaningful today.

That's what flow does for you. It opens your eyes, and your heart. It makes you see things, yourself included, in new ways. Flow is a lynchpin of progress. You can't experience it and not move forwards. Fear can't exist in flow. Fear runs screaming. And flow leads to anticipation of more flow, which creates motivation. I have been desperate to get out on the bike again, and on both my training rides this week I have felt far less fearful, and far more confident. I'm pretty sure I've been faster too.

But I've also felt much more centred and together this week. I have felt more motivated, more energetic and more creative. I have found myself able to give more of myself to Cherry and Violet, find more traces of flow in our interactions together.

Sometimes it's hard to just be with them, without thinking about what we're going to do next and what's for lunch and does Violet's nappy need changing and when am I going to get a chance to do the laundry and I really want to write another book and what am I going to do with the rest of my life. You know, just the usual.

But sometimes, like this week, it just flows.

There's still a couple of spaces left on Revolution Cycling's women-only coaching programme for distance challenges, which includes monthly group rides, a personalised training plan, dietary advice, one-to-one coaching support and event preparation. You can find out more by contacting Kerry at hello@revolutioncycling.co.uk or check out her website.

RideLondon 100 and overcommiting

Last year I overcommitted to a whole heap of things. A theme of the year became letting people down and backing out of commitments.

One of the commitments I failed to fulfil was RideLondon 100, the 100-mile London to Surrey and back again bike ride. I had pledged to do the ride for Tommy's, the pregnancy and baby charity. I had sponsorship, I wrote about it in the Telegraph. But as time went on finding the time for training became harder and more stressful and it became obvious to me what I had to do.

There are a million and one reasons - excuses - as to why I eventually chose to defer my place.

I'm not proud of it, but rather than sit and beat myself up, I chose to learn from it.

There is a big part of me that wants to do loads of sportives and try loads of new things and write more books and set goals and challenges and follow through on them and tick them off my great big to-do list of this gift we call life.

My 'New Year's Resolutions' for 2014, written when Cherry had just turned 2 and V was four  months old. I mean seriously.

But the bigger part of me - the biggest part - means what I say the most when I say I want to be a stay-at-home mother first and foremost and put my children first. All the time.

As it turns out the specific children I have and the specific lifestyle I chose and the specific parenting approach to which I ascribe and the specific challenges I wanted to do were just incompatible.

Once I really thought about it the truth was quite simple. I was not yet ready to devote a significant amount of emotional energy to anything but my children and family.

2014 was all about learning and cutting back. I did complete a 10K run and a 60K Cycletta at the end of the year but considering at the beginning of 2014 I'd had 100-mile rides and potential London to Paris adventures and new books and buying a home and career expansion and diversification and all sorts of other enormous targets and goals in my head, these didn't end up being celebrated as achievements so much as 'well at least I managed…'

Pic by Adele Mitchell

This year I have so far made one commitment and that's to fulfil the RideLondon place I deferred in 2014.

In truth little has changed, and I have no guarantee that I won't find the process stressful and frustrating and even come to regret it this year. 100-mile bike rides don't happen by themselves. I am not 'cycling fit' and I have a long way to go until I am physically capable of the feat.

I don't have any more free time than I had last year. Cherry goes to pre-school for three mornings a week but Violet is still at home full-time. They remain my absolute and number one top priority.

But what I do have is just a small spark, the tiniest fragment, of a desire for something just for me. Some part of me separate from my children and my family, not completely engulfed by and absorbed in them. Nothing huge, nothing dramatic - just a little bit of time and space carved out as my own.

I also have the great good fortune to have the help and support of the awesome Kerry Bircher at Revolution Cycling. Kerry has kindly offered me a place on her bespoke training programme for RideLondon and other distance sportives. We will have a coaching ride together once a month, along with her other trainees, and I will have a fully tailored training programme, help, support and advice.

I can't deny I feel a great deal of apprehension at taking on this challenge. But at the end of the day it's just one day, one bike ride, and if it takes me 100 years to complete it and my arse hurts and I cry - so be it.

*Jacket and jersey complimentary from adidas

There are still places available to train with Kerry for RideLondon 100 or a similar distanced sportive, including monthly training rides and a bespoke training plan. Perfect if, like me, the mind is willing but the flesh is probably a bit weaker than you'd like it to be!