Mental strength

The more I cycle longer and longer distances, the more I come to realise how important mental strength is, to me at least, especially on really tough rides or when the weather is not good. I am also finding more and more that it is key to a lot of things off the bike. 

In work for example, I am recently self employed so the success of my job depends on me alone. The same mental strength techniques I use on the bike to keep me going, or get me back in the saddle when I am thinking about quitting, are the same ones I use in the business world.

There are countless books on the subject so I am not about to pretend I am an expert in the subject. I have some techniques I keep in reserve for use when needed, on and off the bike, and they work for me. And I have tested them on and off the bike in a number of difficult situations so I can vouch for how beneficial mental strength techniques can be. 

Different things work for different people, but the key to all of them is being mentally strong in order to get through tricky situations that really test you and show you what you're made of. If you can endure the pain, accept it as a normal part of life and not your enemy (also core to Buddhism), then you're half way there. Finding the ways to get you there is the hard part, but if you work it out for yourself and get through the other side, whether that is in a business sense or on a bike ride that is pushing you to your limits, then the rewards and feeling of satisfaction are 100% worth the effort. And I do think you become a strong person in the process too.

That's all on this post, I'm boring myself now!!! If you want to read about this topic more, you can do a lot worse than reading the navy seals training guide for mental toughness. Those guys wrote the book on mental toughness, literally!

The relationship between Buddhism and Endurance Cycling

If you are a spiritual person then at some point in our life you may have come across Buddhism. I am not religious in the slightest, but I do have an affinity and appreciation for Buddhist teachings and interestingly, I think embracing Buddhism has helped me as a newbie endurance cyclist these last few months, given the truth of suffering is the first of the 4 noble truths and core to Buddhism. I.e. embrace suffering as part of life, don't try and fight it.

You don't get through an endurance event like London to Brussels, or anything else of an equal, lesser or great scale, without coming across a reasonable amount of suffering and pain along the way. Any professional cyclist will tell you they need to embrace pain and suffering on the bike in order to get through the miles and have the best chance of winning their race. The same is true of amateur cyclists trying to get through a long training ride, or climb up a steep hill, or even cycling 379km from blackheath in London to the centre of Brussels.

Read my previous blog entries about my 3 days in the saddle across Kent, Calais, Brugge, Ghent and Brussels and you will come across numerous constant references to various levels of pain or hardship I had to endure in order to make it to the finish line. The thing I love about the bike the most is the fact it's all on the individual, nobody else can turn my pedals for me, I can draft in someone else's slipstream to make it easier for me, and I can take energy drinks etc to give me a turbo boost, but ultimately it's all on me. If I am to get through the miles I need to find pain and suffering, accept they are part of the journey, find my own (often private or internal) ways to accept or shut them out, and then break through the other side.

And when, eventually, you do break through the other side (of suffering), there are few greater feelings in life. The realisation that you have conquered and overcome personal fatigue, pain, suffering, mental torture on your own, that you have embraced suffering as part of the bike ride you're doing, is for a lot of people the meaning of life on the bike. Or one of them at least....!

The irony of Buddhism teaching us to not have attachment, compared to endurance road cycling being all about (for some) the pursuit of numbers, watts, calories, targets etc, rather than just riding to be, has not escaped me. I leave that argument to other more qualified Buddhists though, I'm not about to punch that far over my weight!!!

Back to the point; getting through long distance cycling events is all about suffering and pain, Buddhism can help you find ways to embrace them as part of normal every day life, which eventually makes it easier to get through them on the bike. It's a constant journey and the pain and suffering on the bike never stops, but in an endurance event you need all the help you can get, and whilst this isn't the only trick I use to get past pain and suffering, it is one that helps, which is fine by me!!

The face of pain and suffering as I endured through the 2012 wiggle Yorkshire weaver sportive!! 

London to Brussels cycle challenge 2013. Day 3 Saturday 7th September.

Day 3, Brugge to Brussels, flat with a hill at the end, 63 miles, or maybe 68 miles, nobody seemed quite sure, and we meet 8 miles before Brussels to ride in procession into the city!

As it was the final day they gave us a lie in, well, until 7am anyway! I'd slept well with my filthy bike right next to the bed as there was no bike storage here for some reason. 

Breakfast, get packed, kit on, inflate tyres, meet up with my new riding partners Nick, Claire and Martin, and we were also joined by a young lad called Tom who's birthday it was that day, and Mike, an older guy who they all knew and seemed a nice chap.

After 50 yards of cobbles we were onto the tarmac again and so off we went. Through the outskirts of Brugge, onto the cycle paths and on to Brussels. We were all feeling elated this day, presumably because the end was in sight. The first water stop was at 20 miles again, so off we went through beautiful village after beautiful village.

The orange arrows had always guided us up to that point, although they ran out when we reached a town who's name escapes me! After cycling round the roundabout to try and spot the correct route we pulled over to dig out the map and work out where to go. 

We were joined after a few minutes by another 8 or 10 of our group who were also lost. Deciding that straight on and then right was the best way to go, we all clipped in and cracked on to get to the water stop. That next section of riding was superb. Our group reassembled and we hit the 30kmph mark where we remained for the next 10 miles or so, until we saw the water stop by the side of a canal. 

Top up water bottles, toilet stop, quick chat to the others and we were back on the road. Next target was lunch in another 23 miles or so (I forget the exact mileage).

I don't know what had happened to me at that water stop, but somewhere between pulling over and demounting the bike, having the water stop and setting off again, I had gone from being in full energy mode whizzing along at a comfortable 30kmph, to being completely devoid of any energy whatsoever and struggling to keep up with the others.

I will write another post about the nutrition side of the ride as it deserves its own section, but for now let me just say that I was puzzled and also starting to get pissed off with losing energy right before dinner every day, when I knew I was drinking loads and eating all the flapjack and gel sachets I normally did so I should have had more than enough calories on board.

Anyway, the others ploughed on to lunch and I fell back behind Mike, who very kindly drafted me the last 5 miles or so to lunch. I'd made it, eventually, only another 20 miles to go to the meeting point 8 miles out of the city.

Now starts the story of how I got nicknamed Popeye by Mike!!

At the lunch stop, after the usual carb loading, bottle top ups etc, I chatted to nick about my energy levels. He reckoned I was just using up more than I was taking on and should have some of his energy drink (High 5) and take plenty of gel sachets (up to 3 per hour) for the rest of the ride. Finishing this was NOT an option! They had all very kindly agreed to pull me through to the finish line, so that was that. No argument, back on the bike, one final push and let's finish this thing!

The energy took a few miles to come back to me, but when it did, Jesus Christ did it come back to me! Claire and nick had sped on ahead so I was riding with mike and Martin, and an Irish guy who I'd met at the start line who's name escapes me!

Their pace was ok, but only around the 22kmph mark, and I wanted to go faster for the final section. With 15 miles to the meeting point I hit the turbo boost button, up'd my speed to 30kmph and time trialled the last section. I gave up counting how many people I passed up how many hills that weren't supposed to be there! And after a few miles of my own personal quest, I finally caught up with Claire and nick, and Martin who was also ahead of me by now.

To say they were surprised to see me was an understatement! And even more so when I rode past them all to do my share of riding on the front. It was the least I could do after all the help they had given me.

The speed on my computer read 32kmph, approx 20 mph and stayed there. I was as strong as I had ever been and repeating the names of the people I was doing this ride for over and over in my head (see post on day 2 for details) was all the motivation I needed. I don't mind admitting I also asked my departed grandad to give me some energy to get me through the last few miles. I like to think he was listening because the energy levels remained there and after getting split from the group at some traffic lights where I didn't clip in fast enough, I arrived at the meeting point with 8 miles to go,to the applauds of my fellow riders. And that was why Mike nicknamed me Popeye! Because my gel and energy drinks had the same affect as Popeyes spinach!!!!

We hung around in the nearest pub for a while to wait for everyone else to turn up. Then when we were all there we set off to do the final 8 miles and ride into Brussels as a single procession, flanked at the front and rear by 2 of the support vans.

Those last 8 miles were quite slow in comparison to the last session I had done, and I parked myself at the back of the group to keep out of trouble. In a group so large (80+) it is very easy to stop too soon or not watch where you are going, and before you know it you've fallen off. I was buggered if that was going to happen to me now, so I cruised along in safety at the back. It was quite nice being clapped and cheered long the way and eventually we made it into the city centre. 

For some reason we rode around for an hour looking for more hills to cycle up (or that's what it felt like)  and then, finally, we rounded the last corner and arrived at the hotel, our finish line.

Emotions were running high by that point as the first people I saw were my parents and my wife. Much kisses, hugs and photos later and it was all over. Everyone was congratulating each other in the hotel lobby and drinking some well earned fizz!

Unlike the previous nights I didn't spend the night sharing a room with alexei, I was in another hotel with my wife and parents. We walked (slowly) the 1km to our hotel and that was that. An amazing meal out for the 4 of us, a bottle of wine downed like it was fruit juice and to bed.

I'd just ridden 240 miles (some say we did 245 miles) over 3 days and raised over £1300 for Alzheimer's. It is the hardest and best thing I have ever done individually, and really showed me just how much mento strength I have when I go looking for it. And I'm not too bad up the hills, and quite fast on the flats.....when I eat enough energy gels!!!;-)

There is more for me to tell out this ride it for now this will do.

Until next time.

Phil

London to Brussels cycle challenge 2013. Day 2, Friday 6th September.

Day 2 - Calais to Brugge, 86 miles, pan flat, slight chance of rain (!!!!!)

I got up to use the toilet in the dark, I suspected it would be about 3am judging by how tired i felt. Imagine then the surprise/shock when I got back into bed only to be greeted by mine and alexei (my room mate)'s alarms going off 2 mins later!! It was 6.30am French time, we'd had about 6 hours of broken sleep that felt like it was only 3 hours of sleep!!

Anyway, after the laughter died down it was on with our new routine. Shower, breakfast, chat to some of the others over breakfast about how they did yesterday, or how there legs were today, back up to the room, kit on, bag on the truck, pre-ride briefing, when everyone turned up!!, and then we were away. It was 7.15am and we had a long gentle day of riding ahead of us.....so they told us anyway!!

Now because I had hammered all the hills the previous day, and bearing in mind i felt like i had only slept for 3 hours, (actually 6 hours but most of it broken) I was not on the best of form at that hour of the day and my legs took a while to wake up! We all clipped in and kicked off through the outskirts of Calais though, on what was set to be another epic day in the saddle.

Onwards....!

A few spells riding with new mates, at the sedate speed of 20kmph, (because we could!!) and we quickly found our own level on the road and set to work ticking off the miles. I eventually found myself on my own riding though French village after French village on very flat, very uninspiring roads! The scenery was very green, very rural and very flat. Apart from the French language on the street signs we could have been in Lincolnshire!!

The first water stop was supposed to be at 21 miles. I say supposed because everyone including me thought we had missed it and resigned ourselves to a morning of no stops, and a push on for lunch at 44 miles. Then we realised there was a water stop after all, albeit at 26 miles not 21!!!

Top up the water bottles, quick chat, toilet stop, down a few jelly babies to get a quick sugar rush and then back on the road.

I had another 18 miles to go to lunch, and after a while of riding on more flat, straight, rural country roads I realised I was now in Belgium! There was no fuss, no border, not even a sign which said 'welcome to belgium'!! One minute the signs had the French flag on them, the next they didn't. 

At this point I have to say how much I enjoyed cycling in France (it is my adopted second home after all), but it had nothing on Belgium. For anyone who has not had the pleasure of riding through what I believe is the Flanders area of Belgium, let me break it down to you. On their roads the cyclist is king! We had cycle lanes on every road, often on their own raised pavement style path, we got right of way over vehicles at road junctions, and even on roundabouts! It really was the cycletopia that Britain hopes to emulate one day. I could ride there happily every day of the year.

Anyway, I digress, again. The next 18 miles were not the fastest I ever rode. I was starting to feel the effects of yesterday and I was also starting to develop an awkward spot in an awkward place!!! After a few unplanned stops, during which I phoned home, took energy gels, or on one occasion inadvertently used an electric fence as a toilet, I finally made it to lunch. 

Picture an empty street in a deserted Belgian village, in which were camped several dozen Alzheimer's cyclists eating their home made pasta (made by our awesome caters) a makeshift canteen and one very snotty local cafe owner who made a point of telling us to pay her money before we could use the toilet. 

I stocked up on carbs and calories, topped up the water bottles, narrowly avoided being shouted at for forgetting to pay my toilet tax (!!) and then cracked on. On my own. Only another 42 miles to go to Brugge, 20 to the next and final water stop. It was flat and 25 degrees, how hard could it be?!!!

The next 20 miles were painful and very tiring for some reason. None of the carbs or calories I had taken on board appeared to have had any affect and the spot was starting to really hurt. Not sure how many times I stopped, but it was a very welcome sight when I saw the final water stop. 

I was tired, had low energy levels, was on my own and had a painful left groin area! Not a happy place for a cyclist with another 22 miles to ride (bearing in mind the 83 I rode yesterday and the 62 I had already limped through that day), and it was about to get even worse when I set off after the water stop.

5 minutes down the road and it started to rain, heavily, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. I was riding on canal paths that would normally have been picturesque on another day, but right now they were my personal hell on earth. Although after I came off the canal path and onto the main road I would discover what hell was really like!

I had another 20 miles to go and there were no cycle lanes (forget what I said earlier!!). The lorries were  throwing a huge swell of water my way every few minutes which blew me all over the place and yet again, I was still on my own. 

I'd had enough, so I said 'f*ck this' and pulled over to the side of the road under a tree which was supposed to keep me dry but didn't! I decided I was going to quit, it wasn't worth it, I was going to call the support team to come and pick me up and drive me to Brugge in the comfort of their nice warm and dry van.

After mulling is over and stewing in my own pity and depression for a few miserable minutes, I decided quite the opposite. I had not come all this way, raised all this money, only to quit at the first sign of trouble. That wasn't me, that's not how I roll!!! So I gave myself a verbal bollocking, got a boost of mental strength, took inspiration from my kids, wife, parents, family, grandma and grandad who i was doing the ride in memory of, you lot reading this who supported me so much on twitter, text, email etc, and climbed back on the bike to head off into the rain again, promising myself I would pull over at the first bus shelter or dry spot where I would have 5 minutes away from the lorry swell and the horrible conditions.

5 minutes later I found a dry spot in an empty factory car park. It was dry, clear of the road, perfect. Some much needed luxury for a few minutes to get me ready for the final slog over the next 20 miles to Brugge when the hammer would very much be put down!

And then, just what I needed happened. Some friendly and concerned fellow riders came past. There were 3 of them in a chain gang, helping each other out to get through the miles. I told them I was fine, I was just having a breather and let them continue on their way.

No, I didn't.

I realised they were just what I needed. Doing this thing is hard enough mentally and physically, so any chance you get to make it that bit easier by riding with a group of others is not something you should turn down. I got back on the bike, clipped in and time trialled the kilometre or so to catch them up. And there I stayed for the next 20 miles to Brugge.

We had a stop after a few miles where I introduced myself to Nick, Claire and Martin. They said they were happy to have me tag on the back of them and so their group became 4.

We picked up the pace a bit as we still had 18 or so miles to go and it was still pissing it down. So we put the hammer down, ramped the speed up to 30kmph and started ticking off the miles. At every 5 miles nick would announce the fact we'd hit another milestone, closely followed by the 4 of us giving a loud cheer, much to the surprise of any passing Belgians!

Brugge quickly came upon us and we entered a sea of bikes ridden by people with no helmet, no fear and no time for stupid English tourists in funny Lycra hogging their cycle lanes!

Brugge, finally. The cobbles, oh man those fuckin cobbles, the beauty of the city, the orange triangles guiding us through the city to the hotel.

Relief, check in, shower, chill, phone home, send tweets thanking people for support, dinner, buy my new friends a well earned beer for saving my life earlier and getting me through day 2 on the bike.

Bed, see my room mate alexei again for the same routine, another alarm call in a few hours and the final day tomorrow!

On reflection this was one of those days you need as a cyclist. A bloody hard one which makes you challenge yourself to find out how strong you really are. Coming so close to quitting pushes you into a space that only goes 2 ways, out or onwards. I've been there before on previous rides so I just dug down deep, grew a pair of bollocks, got my head in the right place and accepted help when it came knocking. Easily as good a training session as any interval hill training. End result, you come out of the experience a different and stronger person than when you went into it.

More on day 3 to follow......

Phil

London to Brussels cycle challenge 2013. Day 1, Thursday 5th September.

I've talked enough about the training, the build up, why i did it etc, so this post is all about the ride itself. The 240 miles (379km) I and 80+ others cycled from blackheath common in London, to Brussels in Belgium, via Kent, Dover, Calais, Brugge, Ghent and eventually Brussels itself.

Day 1 - Thursday 5th September 2013 - London to Calais, 83 miles, 'undulating' (yeah, right!!)

My alarm went off at 5.30am, yes you did read that right, half past 5 in the morning!!! I'd already laid my kit out the night before so I could stay in bed as long as possible! After wolfing down some breakfast and meeting some of the group for the first time, we walked over the road from the hotel to the meeting point, on the common by the side of the road on a large expanse of grass. After waiting for everyone to turn up, labelling up our bikes and bags , we were given the green light to set off.

Now at this point I need to state that it was 7am and very foggy, and we were in London. On the edge of London I accept, but far from the quiet country lanes I have trained on in rural North Yorkshire! This was my first problem that I had to overcome, as we had approximately an hour of riding to do before we got onto quiet b-roads and the volume of traffic calmed down! I had done no training for all the cars cutting me up, or the frequent stops at traffic lights, or trying to cross 2 lane a roads in front of buses and angry half asleep commuters in big cars, in thick fog, whilst remembering to unclip, signal where I was going, avoid the motorbikes etc etc etc. In a nutshell, it was horrible, no other way to put it. Not an experience I want to repeat any time soon, and not a good start to the 3 days!

Anyway, london was eventually out of the way, thankfully, the fog was starting to lift and it was getting hot very quickly. Eventually the thermometer hit 30 degrees for most of the day which didn't make for pleasant riding!

The first day was supposed to be 'gently undulating'. This was to become an infamous phrase throughout the 3 days as day 1 in particular was anything but undulating. For undulating, read hilly......my kind of terrain incidentally and just what I had trained heavily for (specifically so I could get up any hill they threw at me without getting off to walk!!).

When we started hitting the first of the hills the % gradient started to go into double figures very soon (despite what the pre ride briefing info had lead me to believe!!). I gave up counting how many climbs we went up in total, but someone told me we had 4000 metres of climbing over the 83 miles (132km) we rode on day 1. That included numerous 10%'s, a few at 12 and 13%, 2 that got to 15% and I think one which touched 16% for a few meters. One which was probably a mile and a half long that averaged 12% and finished with the peak at somewhere called the devils kneading trough, and a few which emerged out of nowhere in some forests and were followed by some very gravely, very dark steep descents....scary when you're going 45kmph! I passed a lot of people who had got off and walked, although I was determined not to follow suit. Up the steepest of the hills, even with 40 or 60 miles in my legs I was shouting at my legs to stop hurting and reminding myself that Norwood edge and Kearby cliff where I had done all my training, were twice if not 3 times as steep as the hill I was currently riding on. Result, I got up them all, every climb, in the saddle, and succeeded in vindicating all my training, and ticking a big box that I had trained a long time for. If you had been there when I reached the top of every hill that day, you would have seen a huge smile on my face :-)

Every day we had a water stop after 20 miles which had water to fill your bottles, juice, fruit, energy bars etc. After a toilet stop and a few words with others in the group you were on your way. Lunch was at 45 miles which was very well catered, including a choice of pasta dishes, veg, fruit, cakes, crisps, more juice, more energy gels, a few stretches and another toilet stop and for some a chance to grab a quick power nap! And then at 60 miles Ish we had another final water stop before a final slog onto the finish line. The same routine every day, and it made for a nice distraction to break up the ride.

Anyway, I digress. Back to day 1. After lunch we continued in the heat towards Dover. Passing more people walking up hills, while i was secretly loving the terrain and not complaining at all (far from it), the miles whizzed by and I wondered if we would ever see the white cliffs.

Eventually we did (arrive at dover) and I was overjoyed. It had been the hardest and longest single ride I have ever done, my time at 6 hours may not have been the fastest ever ( a few did it twice as fast!!), but I'd done it. Apart from a gentle 5 mile parade ride from Calais docks to our hotel, in the dark, day 1 was in the bag. 

Bed, meet my new room mate alexei (top bloke) and try and get some much needed sleep before day 2 tomorrow and an alarm call after 6 hours sleep which felt like 3 hours!!!

More to follow soon on day 2.........

Phil