Since being bitten by the cycling bug, I've only been on three jaunts: 56 miles round the perimeter of Arran over the course of two days taking in some lovely lunch and beer stops; a 20 mile round trip for breakfast in Bridge of Allan the following Sunday morning; and a 10 mile round trip for lunch in Kippen last Sunday. There clearly seems to be a theme involving food and beer which is, I'm sure, a contributing factor to how much pleasure I'm getting out of this cycling lark. But, tonight's 10 mile jaunt didn't involve any food or beer and I still really enjoyed it. Probably because I cycled out the way on this:
My old Specialized hybird bike. A big heavy beast!
And back the way on this!!!:
My shiny new Merida road bike. An elegant little number!
I'm so excited!! My first road bike! And what a difference! It's so much lighter; I felt like I was flying along the road (though, I'm sure all the car, bus and lorry drivers trying to get home during rush hour weren't thinking that when they were sitting behind me...). I keep thinking about how difficult I found the hills on the cycle around Arran - no bloody wonder!! My old Specialized hybrid weighs an absolute ton compared to my new toy. I can't wait to get back to Arran some time and try cycling round the island again - maybe Alex won't need to help push me up any of the hills next time!
I've only been on one wee trip on it, but so far I've only found one drawback to my new bike in comparison to my old one. On the way out tonight I was sitting on this:
And on the way back I was sitting on this:
It won't take much stretching of the imagination to guess which of my body parts was most painful when I arrived home... When I pointed out to Kenny, the owner of Rock and Road Cycles (where we bought the new bike from), that the saddle was a bit pointy and a bit hard he said 'Ocht, you just need to toughen up!' Hm, I think he needs to wisen up to the fact that us middle aged wifeys have had plenty of opportunities to toughen up over the years and that this particular middle aged wifey needs a little bit more padding where it counts...
Worse things happen than having to give up a sport or activity that you love. Having to give up running a few years ago certainly wasn't the most devastating thing I've ever had to deal with in my life – far from it – but it did have a pretty profound effect on me and, up until recently, I could still feel a bit down about it. Now, I totally appreciate that that might sound a bit ridiculous to some folk. I mean, it’s only running for goodness sake! No-one died - although, a little bit of me actually did at that time - and there are plenty of other folk that have to give up sports/hobbies/activities for a whole multitude of reasons and they don’t get down about it, do they?! Well, actually, they often do but I guess they don’t like to make too big a deal of it when it’s ‘only’ losing a thing they love to do, rather than losing the likes of a person, or a job, or their good health.
It’s hard to explain how it felt. I was never even a competitive runner; I really just ran for the fun of it. Not too seriously at all. I never ran all that far in one go and, although I was an active member – along with the rest of my family – of our local athletics club; the social aspect of group runs, training nights and club events was always much more attractive to me than winning a race or clocking a faster time than one of my running buddies. Having said that, I always got a massive buzz when I managed to run a bit farther or a bit faster than I’d managed before, so maybe there was a bit of a competitor in there somewhere, even if it was just with myself! Basically though, I just loved to run. And I loved that my family were all involved in the sport so it was something we could all participate in - at all different levels but still together - and I just loved being part of the running community. Albeit it as one of its very slow members!
The beginning of the end of my running days started in the summer of 2002 when I had the first of several operations for a series of long-standing health issues (the origins of which were nothing to do with the fact that I was a runner). After each operation I gave my body plenty of time to recover before running again however each time I started back it wouldn't be long before I had to stop. Running wasn't causing any of my issues, but it was exacerbating them. Further problems resulted in a full hysterectomy in 2004, when I was 39, followed by another series of minor operations (mostly to mop up the mess left by a particularly happy-go-lucky surgeon) which, in turn, left me with a bit of a pelvic bomb-site! I was advised that my insides would no longer be able to withstand any form of high-impact exercise, but by this time I couldn't run the length of myself anyway as the pain was so excruciating. Yup, my running and aerobics days were well and truly over!
So, I went into a bit of a huff: 'I'll never get that same kind of buzz from any other sport blah blah. Poor me, not being able to run anymore blah blah....' I didn't stop trying things though, and I did find one other activity that got the old adrenalin flowing again; I've always loved to sing - it's so very good for the soul - and joining our local 'Heart of Scotland Choir' was such a great tonic. I love it, and I usually feel brilliant when I'm at rehearsal or performing along with my choir buddies. But, I still kind of yearned for some kind of physical exercise that would also hit the mark so I kept on trying things (a wee bit half-heartedly as, of course, nothing was going to come close to running...).
I don’t really enjoy swimming. All that getting changed, getting wet, getting stuck behind some Sunday swimmer determined not to let you pass or stuck in front of some Mark Spitz wannabe determined to intimidate you out of your lane, getting clothes back on in a hot sticky tiny cubicle and getting home with hair that looks like it’s been dipped in a basin of chemicals (...em, because it sort of has...). Though, that last one doesn't really count as that’s what happens every time I go to the hairdressers...
I tried a Yoga class, but I got a bit irritated with the teacher spending more time telling us all about the origins of the exercises than showing us how to do them. And it was just too slow. I do like the idea of becoming more flexible though so maybe I should try Yoga again. But I know it’ll not give me the kind of buzz that I used to get from running.
I tried other forms of low-impact exercise routines, but they didn't have any impact.
And, I tried cycling. Quite a few times over the years. But, it just didn't do it for me. However, a few weeks ago Alex (my husband) took me and our bikes over to Arran and - at last, we get to the point of this wee blog! - I had an epiphany; I LOVE cycling! The buzz was back! I got the adrenalin rush! The fact that the weather was glorious and we were cycling round one of Scotland's loveliest little islands probably had a lot to do with it but, aw man, I was so chuffed and I felt so good: ‘Yay! Go me! That was brilliant! I can't believe I managed it!’ .... even though that ‘it’ would've been a walk in the park for a seasoned cyclist!
This wee video kind of sums up what it meant to me (and substantiates my earlier comment about my head being dipped in chemicals every time I go to the hairdressers...!):
I was a wee bit weepy at that moment - as you can see - and I was totally knackered! Ocht, some folk might think it's a wee bitty over the top. But, I like this wee clip. I like that I've recorded the raw emotion of how much it meant to me to have burst a gut on my bike and achieved something that I didn't think I could possibly manage. And I like that it shows just how much I'd have struggled without Alex's gentle support and encouragement (which is in parallel really to how it is with most of the other stuff in my life), and I love that we've found something new that we can enjoy. Well, not new because Alex's loved cycling for a long time and I've been able to cycle for a long time, but new in the sense that it's something that we can now both enjoy doing more of together as I've been well and truly bitten by the cycling bug!
So, I decided to start this wee blog as a kind of record of my cycling journey; the trials, the tribulations, the fun, the frolics, the gear, the bikes, the lunch stops, the beer stops and the ‘whatever else comes along’ with this new-found thing that’s making me feel great. I still have some of the same old reservations that I've always had about blogging; is it too self-indulgent, why would anyone want to read about some of the minutiae of my wee life? But, I do know how much I enjoy reading other people’s blogs, from all over the world, and don’t ever think of the sharing of their stories as self-indulgent. And, I know how much some other people have enjoyed reading, or related to, my other blog (which I've now closed down as it wasn't conducive to the counselling work I've started doing recently).
So, I’ll put these little doubts to the side again and see where this new venture takes me. I’m not sure how appealing a read it’ll be but, just as I said at the start of my last wee blog, I’ll write it in the hope that it encourages me to focus on what’s making me feel good, and hopefully helps some of you feel good along the way!
If there's some reason that you had to stop doing something you loved to do too, it's rubbish, I know. But maybe one day you'll find something else that gives you just as good - if not better - a feeling. Don't stop looking though, because if your eyes are shut you're never going to see it.
I’m really looking forward to sharing my ramblings here on this new wee blog but, for now, I’m off to ride my bike....
