Thank You All

We made it. On the afternoon of Sunday 20 June, we crossed the finish line at Land's End.


Thank you to everyone who supported us along the way whether it be financially or emotionally (Justin certainly needed the latter quite a lot).

We were exhausted, hot and in pain, but very happy to have made it. After proclaiming at the start line that day that Justin was going to cry 'like Davina McCall' as he crossed the line (much to the amusement of the hardened cyclists around him), it was actually a rather odd and disorientating affair and was not accompanied by any crying.

For those of you who are interested - a blow by blow account (with pictures) is on this blog so you can be inspired (or not) to apply for next year's event!! As a blog reads backwards by date if you read it top to bottom, just follow the links on the left of the page to view our journey day by day.

And to sign up for next year http://www.rideacrossbritain.com/

Day 9: Launceston to Land's End

There were times that neither of us thought this day would come, but finally it was Day 9, and we were cycling the last 95 miles to Land's End. A sub 100 mile day, but after 8 consecutives days cycling, early stages of saddle sores, very tired legs and Adam still struck down by 'The Bug' (D becoming more prominent than V) meant that it felt like one of the hardest days. In addition, Cornish roads are not famed for their flatness. In fact, it was a pretty tough day.

Pit stops became longer, a number of emergency stops to friendly pubs were required so Adam could contend with 'The Bug', and little hills turned into huge mountains.

The scenery was stunning, and the weather fine, if not a little hot. As we climbed up a very steep slope from Penzance (passing a number of people walking), both of us firmly had the end in our sights. We must have cycled on autopilot, because the details of this day have long been eliminated from our memory.

All of a sudden we were seeing signs for Land's End in 5 miles. Before we knew it, we turned a corner and were in the final straight. Putting on our best smiles and cycling together we crossed the line. Justin was expecting to be bawling his eyes out by now, but the whole thing was so overwhelming after thinking about ending for 9 solid days, that we both crossed the line in a daze and were ushered on to our final photo without having time to process the fact that WE HAD JUST CYCLED 1000 MILES IN 9 DAYS CONTENDING WITH 'THE BUG' AND VARIOUS HIP KNEE AND ANKLE INJURIES!!!! It was lovely to see Justin's mum and uncle cheering us on at the line, but we were hardly in a fit state to have a sensible conversation with them.

Crossing the finish line.

Posing with James Cracknell and our medals.

All too soon, it was time to pack up our bikes back in their boxes and get the bus to the final base camp. We had hoped for a big party with lots of lovely scrumpy and dancing but after a cornish pasty, a cider for Justin and a lemonade for Adam we collapsed in bed.

Suddenly it was over. We had done it. Although Justin didn't cry crossing the line, reliving the ride by writing this blog has certianly brought a tear to the eye.

It was the hardest thing, physically and mentally that either of us had ever done. Battling through physical pain and exhaustion, we managed to summon up the energy to get up at 5:15 every morning in a campsite, and get back on the bikes for 9 consecutive days. Clearly, with the lows, came fantastic highs. Amazing scenery, fabulous people, the joy of watching the landscape, architecture and feel of the country change as we pedalled across the entire country. However, if it weren't for the support of many of our family, friends and colleagues each pedal stroke would have been that little bit harder. Thank you all.

As Threshold Sports (organisers of the event) would say - "more was in us"

Day 8: Cheddar to Launceston

Today started so promisingly! Firstly there was the excitement of it being our penultimate day riding and there was a beautiful descent right near the beginning. We spent the first leg with a friendly third cyclist and had a really enjoyable ride. However, by the time we got to the first pit stop, Adam was beginning to feel pretty ill. He wasn't really able to stomach any food. As the second leg progressed, Adam began to feel more and more unwell. Desperaate to not call it 'The Bug', Justin convinced us both it was just hypoglycaemia and exhaustion from not sleeping very much for the last few days. After crawling along the really rather undulating and tough roads, we stopped in a layby. Justin forced Adam to eat a flapjack in that special way he does even though he's a psychiatrist and not  a proper doctor any more. Soon a passer by came to chat to us about what we were doing. By the end of the conversation, Adam had disappeared behind a bush to throw up! I tell you, it was a very glamorous holiday.

Keen to get back to camp for a rest, Adam sipped some water (under doctors orders) and we got back on our bikes. When we finally arrived at the next pit stop, Adam collapsed on the floor for a power nap. He was offered some diaoralyte which he dutifully attempted to drink but which resulted in him having to run (not easy in road cycling shoes) to the nearest loo. Not quite getting there in time, he threw up spectacularly against the wall of the leisure centre!! So, clearly Adam put his bike away and got the bus remaining 40 miles home. Of course not - he got back on his bike and we started the long ride onwards. After a while, we saw a couple of fellow cyclists who we had seen on the Sportive circuit in our training. They were significanlty better than us, and they had stopped at a corner shop, so we did the same. Adam got a weird craving for Calippo ice lollies and ate three. They were the only thing containing calories that were keeping him going, but he got back on his bike and carried on. Luckily there was a power stop laid on by the organisers, so 20 miles later we stopped for more Calippos and managed to get back on our bikes for the final slog. Dad incidentally stopped for a Cream Tea at this point!!

The roads were hellish. Hill after hill after hill just kept coming, but Adam soldiered on and it was with great relief that we finally rolled on to base camp in Launceston. Total cycling time was 9 hours, but we had been out for over 11 very long hours.

Day 7: Ludlow to Cheddar

Justin was quite excited about today as he was hoping for a fabulous picture of him relaxing by a 'Welcome to Wales' sign, closely followed by another 'Welcome to England' sign. In addition,  we were crossing two bridges - Severn Bridge and Clifton Suspension Bridge. Justin is easily amused!

Unfortunatley, there was no such welcome sign as we entered Wales and so the 'Welcome to England' sign that we came across lost some of its charm.

The bridges were ok, but essentially the Severn Bridge on a bike is like one long gradual hill upwards whilst being utterly battered by the wind.

The Clifton Suspension Bridge was more fun, but we didn't take photos because an official photographer was literally lying in wait for us in the middle of the road. Having nearly run him over, we were both expecting a splendid photo, but one doesn't seem to have materialised in the official ones available on line. Maybe the terror of having an overly excited Justin and Adam cycling towards him made him forget to push the button.

Adam and Justin crossing the Severn Bridge.

A short way into the day as Justin was nicely tucked in behind Adam, he noticed a hole appearing right in the bottom seam of Adam's cycling shorts. It was getting bigger as he continued to spin those pedals. Luckily, we had come prepared and after Justin's crotch gaping disaster on Day 1, a quick stop in a field with a judiciously placed safety pin prevented Adam from being arrested for indecent exposure. It caused much amusement and second glances as we made our way through heavy Bristol traffic.

On the route map, you can see a little diversion to the east, just below Hereford. As we were cycling up a very steep hill indeed, we were horrified to see cyclists coming back down the other way. As it turned out, some road closures had meant that in order to reach our pitstop, we had to cycle up and then down a very steep hill and then up and down the same hill in reverse. This was not good news! To make matters worse, Justin was having an off day with the Science in Sport energy drinks and gels. Every time he tried to eat or drink them he felt very sick. Desperately hoping that this was just an overdose on sickly Science in Sport products and not 'The Bug', he switched to eating flap jacks and jelly dinosaurs instead - classic sports nutrition, but it did the job.

At the second pit stop, we said a sad good bye to Jonathan Medes who had done some of our training with us. Despite valiantly carrying on whilst vomiting, he had falled foul of 'The Bug', he was no longer able to keep fluid down and so had to pull out for the rest of the afternoon. On a little 'only two days left after this one' high, we both had a good strong finish, even up the steep hill to the campsite in Cheddar. We arrived just in time to get to our tents before a heavy downpour started.

Day 6: Manchester to Ludlow

So, it is with great pride that we announce Day 6 to spectacularly be Adam's day! As you can see from the profile most of the day was pretty flat. However, a very famous climb was in store - its the almost vertical bit near the end on the profile.

The climb is called the Long Mynd. I think it is about 33% gradient and incredibly narrow. Legend had it that only 11 people made it up without walking and Adam was one of them. James Cracknell didn't manage. Justin fell off pretty near the beginning after worrying a lot about his knees and could only watch in astonishment as Adam's lycra clad behind slalommed his way up the slope.

Adam was able to glow a little bit inside for the rest of the day (in fact the rest of the trip, in fact he still is) every time anyone mentioned the climb and spoke in reverant terms about the gods of cycling that had managed it.

After a truly difficult climb up, Justin was met with his nemesis - a steep narrow descent down the Long Mynd. After nearly crying again, Justin decided he would rather walk down rather than hurtle down to his death. However, despite putting maximum pressure on the breaks as he plummeted towards a cattle grid and his almost certain demise, he wasn't able to stop.He had to have a little breather at the bottom to stop his palpitations and to check his brakes a number of times as he was convinced they were no longer working. He remained concerned for the rest of the day how the two guys on a tandem made it down that slope.

We arrived, rather hot and bothered and Ludlow race course. Justin had managed to get a nasty case of sun stroke and was a little tired, emotional and confused and managed to lose his sunglasses which delayed bed time by about an hour.

In addition, paranoia regarding 'The Bug' had well and truly set in. The seclusion area - tents full of the sick -was getting bigger and bigger, special designated toilets were set up and both of us became very aware of any feelings of sickness or the slightest twinge in our stomachs. People were literally dropping to their knees and throwing up amongst all the tents. Nice! Various tents would disappear as more people were moved into the seclusion zone. As we were trudging around the campsite, we heard the classic sentence over the radio "Can you please get another 3 clean tents - we've had three more throw up inside theirs in the last 10 minutes". It was all made a bit more complicated by the fact that the energy drinks and food we were consuming doesn't sit very well on the tummy. Justin's mum was on hand with emergency extra supplies of alcohol gel that we both starting applying liberally and very frequently to our hands after touching anything!

It became quite an interesting psychological study of 'in' and 'out' groups. People were encouraged to self disclose sickness and visit the medics, but nobody wanted to for fear of being branded one of the sick and being forced to sleep in the 'leper colony' as it became known. Justin shook hands with a man who he later found out was one of the 'sick' and couldn't wash his hands soon enough. Paranoid about bugs hanging around on his fabric gloves, he changed those aswell!.

Anyway, I do believe there were three more days of cycling to get on with.

Day 5: Ullswater to Manchester

Day 5: Billed as Ullswater to Manchester (but was actually to Dunham Massey, right near Justin's home town/village of Lymm) started with a stupendous climb up Kirstone Pass. Its the really steep, high looking thing on the left of the route profile. We both made it up, which not everyone did, but we were actually both disappointed as in training had done this climb much quicker and before. However, after 4 days in the saddle already and nursing knee, ankle and hip/gluteal injuries, we were still pretty pleased with our effort.

After a fabulous descent, we cycled through Bowness on Windermere and were met by Roger and Viv cheering us on from the back of the hotel. I don't think people were too pleased by Roger's promise of 'its all downhill to Manchester' when they turned the corner only to be met by.......a very steep hill. Very familiar roads then took us to Crossthwaite where Carol and Andrew were also waiting to cheer us on. Fellow cyclists must have thought we were local celebrities. That, or there were lots of locals thinking they had a glimpse of Alan Carr in lycra!!

A reasonably uneventful trip to Dunham Massey then awaited. Cycling through familiar territory was actually quite a boost and we managed to join up with some pretty fast packs that made the day seem all rather pleasant thank you very much. Knee and hip pains were still niggling, but no longer seemed likely to make us have to pull out. Although Adam did develop a funny numb patch on his left hip which is still there!!

Day 4: East Renfrewshire to Ullswater (too tired to even get the stage photo right)

Today, the ride was as long as the promised 130 miles. Great!

Justin managed to create quite a stir in the starting line up.A sudden wave of nausea struck and he thought he was going to throw up. People were starting to get a little tetchy about signs of sickness as they were keen not to be struck down with 'The Bug' and so rapidly made room. It was ok though, just a combination of tiredness, worry about his knee and difficulty keeping down a bowl of porridge (which was very well cooked incidentally if any RAB caterers are reading) at 5:30 am. However, the stress of the occasion did, you guessed it, make him cry a little bit. Or crocodile tears as Jo Green called them. She was just cross because Justin had nearly thrown up and had caused a scene in "her" queue!!

Queues for the loo! A recurring theme.

After the drama in the start line and the pain of Day 3, Day 4 was actually not too horrendous. Justin transferred the tubi grip to the right knee and kept the neoprene support on the left one and Sue's painful work from the night before seemed to do the trick. Throughout the day, we were rather excited about the prospect of leaving Scotland (sorry any Scottish friends - nothing personal, but it just seemed a significant milestone) and seeing the signs to Gretna Green kept reminding us just how close we nearly were.

As we arrived in Gretna Green (and a well earned pit stop) we were met by a group of very excitable school children who clapped and shouted and screamed and smiled and cheered and supported us. This all served to give us an extra little energy boost (and you guessed it, made Justin cry again!!! - spotted a theme yet?) As we left the pit stop, we were very excited about getting a picture of us by the 'Welcome to England' sign and were expecting to find many other RABers doing the same. As it turned out, we were the only ones - but it was definitley worth it as you can see by the lovely specimens below!

As we cycled into Cumbria, we were met with some beautiful scenery and as we approached the Lake District, the sight of familiar mountains and roads gave us the extra little burst we needed to make it over the last few climbs. That and the extra chocolate and water stop that the organisers put in to try and prevent a recurrence of the dehydrated and exhausted riders that had arrived at the end of Day 3. Oh, and not forgetting the lovely woman who stopped by the roadside to give us some iced mocha.

The day ended as we arrived at the base of Kirkstone Pass - quite a killer climb. Our campsite was based at the bottom of it, just to psych us all out as we waited for the climb first thing in the morning. Carol and Andrew were waiting for us at the camp with emergency supplies of painkillers, more neoprene knee supports and sudocreme (you can never have enough with that amount of time on the saddle). It was lovely to see some familiar faces and after a quick bite to eat and a painful session with the lovely physiotherapist Sue it was time for bed. Adam finally started to show the strain of cycling for four consecutive days and also saw the medics for some achilles tendonitis and gluteal pain. He also was subjected to some very painful calf muscle poking and prodding of the 'no pain, no gain' school of medicine.

Day 3: Loch Linnhe to East Renfrewshire

Those of you with keen vision will spot that our Garmin file said we cycled 130 miles today and yet we were promised only 127 miles. An extra 3 miles when you're already cycling over 100 - that makes no difference I hear you shout. Well, you are wrong. Very wrong. When you've been out on the bike for nearly 11 hours and the only thing keeping you going is the finish in 5 miles, it is actually pretty horrific to discover that you have to do another 8 miles.

Today was actually pretty tough. Despite a wonderful massage the night before, Justin's knee started playing up 10 minutes in. Every time his left leg pushed on the pedal, stabbing pains occured in the knee. When you're cycling 130 miles, this starts to become a bit problematic. It would be fair to say, that today was the beginning of a very low ebb for Justin. With seven more long days stretching out in front of him with pretty significant pain - he is not ashamed to admit that he had a little cry on the bike - quite a number of times. However, it is really the support that he had got through sponsorship, combined with the knowledge that if he had to pull out and Adam managed to complete it, he would never live it down and the threats of withdrawal of sponsorship from certain 'friends' that kept him going.

Justin with his left leg rolled up, not to represent membership of some gang land cycling crew, but waiting in desperation for the ambulance man to spray his leg with some cold spray. Afer that he applied ibuleve gel (whilst already on maximum doses of diclofenac), tiger balm, a tubigrip and a neoprene knee support. Unfortunately, straight after this little emergency stop we were faced with a bit of a slog climbing up to the Glen Coe ski resort. However, with every climb comes a beautiful descent and we certainly got that. This gave Justin's knees the chance to recover from the climb up. His knees are still peeling from the combined effect of deep heat, tiger balm, ibuleve gel all covered in a neoprene bandage for 7 consecutive days!

Near the end of this stage, we started to head towards Glasgow. However, a punishingly up and down diversion around the outskirts left us feeling pretty exhausted and a little bit desperate to finish. By this stage we were well above the longest distance either of us had ever managed on a bike and our bodies had no idea what was happening to them. However, worse was yet to come.

In an effort to find us a beautifully appointed quiet campsite, the organisers took us on a punishing roller coast ride around tiny little country lanes that only ever seemed to go uphill. By this stage, Justin's right knee had started to hurt almost as much as his left knee and the crying had started again (on the inside this time) and he was desperate to finish. It was therefore with a huge sigh of relief that we both crossed the finish line of day 3.

We were clearly not the only ones to find this stage tough. The medical centre at base camp was full of very pale people either lying down or sitting shivering with space blankets. We booked in for another massage, but were soon thwarted by the rapid expansion of the medical tent into the massage space. Our concerns increased a little when toilets starting being moved next to the medical tent and people started shouting at us for bringing food out of the catering tent. After the little mention that the organisers made the day before about being careful with handwashing as someone had fallen sick it began to dawn on us that we were facing the start of a bug in the camp. As the day progressed, and the queues for the toilets increased, our concerns were definitely realised. "The Bug" as it became known and spoken about in half hushed tones had well and truly struck the RAB camp.

Luckily, amidst the sickness, Justin found his saviour - Sue - in the most unlikely of places, the drying tent. After waiting a little too long in a hot tent with contact lens that became so dry they fell out, Justin had a consultation with the resident physio, Sue. She did some crazily painful stuff with his legs and knees that definitely came under the rubric 'no pain, no gain' and sent him on his way with instructions on how to do it himself, some stretches and a lot of well wishes for the next day. All of this meant that we didn't get to bed until about 11:30. Not great when you have a 5am start for another 130 miles the next day.

Day 2: Kyle of Sutherland to Loch Linnhe

Day 2 started with Justin having a little paddy as he tried to repack his rucksack whilst being attacked mercilessly by midges. Losing things, last minute unpacking, repacking became a little theme of his!
It was another cold, wet and windy day cycling amongst beautifully rugged scenery. Energy levels and motivation was still high. We particularly enjoyed cycling alongside Loch Ness, and the misty cold weather gave it a lovely atmosphere.

Cold and wet at the pit stop. Day 2 so sandwich ennui has not yet set in! hence the smiles. Richard Watkins is taking a photo of Jo Green who sadly couldn't ride because of a broken pelvis. However, she was on hand at all pit stops to direct weary cyclists to food and toilets (and to shout at them if she thought they were getting in the way of fellow weary cyclists)

Trying to keep the spirits up by Loch Ness

A lovely view of Ben Nevis from our base camp. After some pretty tough climbs along the way, the final third wasn't too bad as we made our way to the foothills of Ben Nevis. However, the climbing and fact that never before in training had we actually ever managed two consecutive days doing 100 miles meant that Justin's left knee took a bit of a hammering. For the final section it was starting to twinge quite a lot and he was getting pretty nervous about how it would fare the next day. A little bit of massage with the very lovely sports therapists only served to highlight just how painful it actually was. It was therefore with slight trepidation that we went to bed, fully aware that Day 3 was a 130 mile marathon including a pretty hefty climb to Glen Coe Ski Resort!

Day 1: John O'Groats to Kyle of Sutherland

After a night attempting to protect our tent from the harsh North Sea wind, we were perfectly prepared for our first day in the saddle. Not quite yet ready for the routine of getting lycra clad and fully chamois creamed up in a tent you can barely sit up in, we were slighlty late to the start line. This was not helped when I dropped my bag off at the luggage truck to discover a large hole had appeared in my brand new 3/4 length DHB bib tights. Said hole would have been very handy should I needed to have gone for a quick wee - but not particularly suited for 104 miles on a bike with 600 other members of the public. After having a minor panic which consituted me flapping in the middle of a cold wet field and nearly crying, my dad came to the rescue with a small pair of plain cycling shorts which I could wear over the top. I was slighlty dismayed to discover they also had a hole in a very similar place - but luckily the two holes did not align!! So all ready for the off, we pushed our bikes over the start line (too wet and dangerous and busy to cycle over today) ready for a gloriuos start to our trip. Well, it would have been that simple had I not been attempting to do all that whilst putting my cycle gloves on. Net result was that I tripped over my own bike and fell in a not very delicate heap amongst the starting grid. Oh the shame!!

Adam, Dad and I ready to start. Extra pair of cycling shorts and offending holes are not in shot!

Pipers piping to get us on our way. I think we were so late to the start that we missed them.

After our first pit stop, we were so quick to get going - Richard didn't even have time to take our photo! This was our first experience of the lovely food that was on offer at the pit stops. Certainly today the choice of sandwiches and pasties and sweets left us in great hope that pit stop food would be great for the whole 9 days. Unfortunatley after 9 (well after 4) days of eating identical food at each of the pit stops, it became increasingly difficult to stomach

After 100 miles of rather rugged and wet scenery and a number of chain related incidents for Justin that left Adam very cross as we kept on losing groups we were cycling with, we finally arrived at our first destination. About 500m from the end, Adam's bike made a very odd noise and a spoke broke loose. Luckily, a handy bit of sellotape prevented it from jamming in the chain whilst we cruised to the finish line and Halfords were on hand to provide a spare wheel for the duration of the trip.

A nice hot shower, a yummy scrummy dinner and a well earned rest were all in order.

First Night in Tent

London to John O'Groats

First of all  we had to travel to the start line. So with bags fully packed (well above the 15kg weight limit, who would have thought lycra could weigh so much), we set off to the Caledonian Sleeper train to Inverness and then a connecting train to Thurso and then a taxi to John O'Groats.

After an initial panic that my bag wouldn't fit through the ridiculously narrow corridors it was an uneventful night. Apparently there was a big drama and a stag do were thrown off the train in Edinburgh after stealing all of the first class morning breakfasts (so not effecting us then!!). However, Adam and I were sleeping the sleep of the just.

Safely strapped in for a night on the sleeper train.

Adam and I were really quite excited even by a train and taxi ride. The man on the left, Andre, was taking the whole event a little more seriously!!