Story 15: Registering to Ride The Night

An email landed in my inbox inviting me to sign up for the 'Women V Cancer Ride The Night'. I couldn't possibly resist! Especially after I managed to persuade my daughter to take part with me! It involves cycling a circular route from Windsor Race Course then all around London all through the night. I love London, especially when it's lit up at night time, and seeing it from the saddle - with my daughter (who recently moved down to London and is, ahem, about to take up cycling...) riding along beside me - amongst hundreds of other women will, I think, be a pretty awesome experience! It's not till May next year, so we've got plenty of time to prepare for cycling the 100km (eek!!) route.

Another reason I'm excited about the event is that it's helping to raise awareness of (and funds for) three different cancer charities. I guess we've all been, or at the very least know someone who's been, affected by cancer. Over the course of this past year I've lost an aunt (one year ago today actually), an uncle and a good friend from choir, all to different forms of cancer. I've also worked with many lovely people - who are either living with cancer or have lost someone to cancer - through my voluntary work at a local hospice. So, it feels really worthwhile to be signing up for something that's raising awareness and raising money towards funding research and new treatments for this horrible disease.

Having said that, I've only just finished fundraising for the STV Appeal through taking part in Pedal for Scotland, so I think I'd better wait a wee while before I set up another Just Giving page for this particular cycling event! But, in a similar vein to the wee nod I was giving my Dad by taking part in Pedal for Scotland, it seems really appropriate to be giving a wee nod to my Aunt (my Dad's twin sister) tonight by deciding to take part in the Ride the Night event.

So, there we go, another cycling adventure to look forward to. But, not till May 2014. And I'm sure I'll have one or two more stories from the saddle to tell before then...

Story 14: A perfect sunny September Sunday

Deciding to head east for our Sunday cycle yesterday was such a good call. A bit of nostalgia, soaking up the sun, fighting the wind, mucking about on the sand, crossing the Tay Bridge and cycling past a guy taking his owl for a walk all contributed to what turned out to be another good fun day on the saddle.

We started off from St Andrews and it felt really good to be back there again - lowering the tone amongst the Toffs - following our daughter's graduation from St Andrews Uni earlier on this year. We didn't spend too much time in the town though and were soon out on the cycle path, battling our way through the really, really strong wind, on our way to Guardbridge and then Leuchars. The cycle path, that's part of the National Cycling Route 1, led onto a minor road in Leuchars and beyond, before we hit the trail path that took us through Tentsmuir Forest, which holds some pretty special memories for us. Our family have enjoyed a few running club trips to Tentsmuir in years gone by and it felt really good to be back in what was one of our favourite places to run and socialise with our Central Athletic Club friends.



Tentsmuir's gorgeous; it's a forest, with lots of trail paths and nice wee areas for picnics and barbeques, with the added attraction of being right beside the beach. Not only that, you come across the strangest things in Tentsmuir...



A man, taking his owl for a walk in the woods! Awesome!

After all that excitement, we couldn't resist a wee detour off the trail and down on to the beach:
 


And, of course, I couldn't resist a wee cycle on the sand too:

 

It was just as well that we'd opted for the 'old faithful' bikes and left our road bikes in the garage! One of my old pals from Uni has been suggesting that we try some 'real' off-road cycling and, well, yesterday it felt like we made a wee start on that! Forest trails, sand, rocks and general bumpiness made a good fun change from our usual smooth road, or cycle path, rides!

After Tentsmuir, still following Route 1, we cycled through Tayport. I've got some really fond memories of family holidays there in our wee touring caravan when I was little. I can't remember if we took my bike, but I like to think we did and that yesterday I was cycling along the same wee paths that I did as a child many moons ago! While I was reminiscing, Alex was admiring the boats:

After Tayport, it was a few miles further down the cycle path to the Tay Bridge. I can't begin to tell you how much I enjoyed cycling over the bridge. There was just something really brilliant about crossing the bridge (all mile and a third of it) on my bike. I've driven over it many, many times and always enjoy the views; yesterday was a perfect day to be sauntering across on two wheels (even though the wind was fierce!) and have time to really appreciate the scenery all around us.

 And, just when I thought it couldn't get any more exciting, there was more fun to be had in the lift at the end...

                          

We did indeed have lunch next to the Discovery (the last big wooden three-masted ship to be built in Britain) and very nice it was too:

The ride back to St Andrews was much less eventful and very much tougher than I'd expected. But, we eventually made it all the same:



I'm still knackered after cycling those 38 miles yesterday but I can't think of any other way I'd like to have spent that particular sunny September Sunday. It was simply made for another great fun and not-so-serious cycle.

Story 13: It's all relative really

One of the many things that crossed my mind while we were pedaling from Glasgow to Edinburgh last Sunday was that although I feel very much like a not-so-serious cyclist, I might not look like a not-so-serious cyclist to some folk. And I guess that's made me think about how it's all relative really.

Take the guy we passed somewhere between Dennistoun and Cranhill who was cycling along in the throng without a helmet on. I guess he might've thought I was pretty serious about cycling when he saw me and my shiny white helmet bobbing along. I just thought he was a bit of a numpty for not taking safety on his bike seriously. And, I guess, just because he's not wearing a helmet doesn't mean that he's not seriously passionate about cycling.

And then there was the elderly lady we passed somewhere between Coatbridge and Airdrie who was cycling steadily along on her vintage bike amongst what looked like a few generations of her family. I guess she might've thought I was pretty serious about cycling when she  saw me and my shiny new road bike fly past  (OK, that might be a slight exaggeration...). I just thought she was brilliant for managing to cycle 47 miles in her twilight years on a bike that she's maybe been riding since she was a wee girl! Oh what seriously interesting stories from the saddle she could probably tell! And, I guess, just because she's a lot slower than she used to be doesn't mean that she's not seriously passionate about cycling.

And what about all those people that we passed somewhere between Avonbridge and Linlithgow who were walking; pushing their bikes up the big so-and-so of a steep hill? I guess they might've thought I was pretty serious about cycling when they saw me managing to pedal past. I just thought of them as fellow cyclists who were either knackered or just couldn't find the right gear or the right amount of energy to take this particular part of the challenge on on their bike. I was also thinking that they could easily have been me; I might be managing the hills a wee bit easier than before, but it's still more than likely that there'll be times ahead when I have to jump off my bike and walk with it. And, I guess, just because they had to do that during this particular event doesn't mean that they're not seriously passionate about cycling.

But what about all of those cyclists somewhere between Glasgow and Edinburgh that passed me?  For every one of those cyclists that I passed there were very many more who passed me. I guess I was thinking that they were the serious cyclists. When they passed me as I plodded up the hills, or when I was getting in their way (I'm not quite there with the cycling etiquette in a crowd yet!), or when I was falling off my bike in front of them, or when I was shouting - like a big kid - as I whizzed down the hills "Aw Man!!! This is SOO awesome!!", I wonder what they were thinking of me? Maybe they were thinking that just because I did all of those things, it doesn't mean that I'm not seriously passionate about cycling.

So, it's all relative really. I describe myself as a 'not-so-serious' cyclist because I'm not interested in sticking to any set training plan, or trying to break any records, or being really knowledgeable about some of the technicalities of cycling. But being not-so-serious about those things doesn't mean that I'm any less serious about enjoying cycling than anyone else. Yup, we might be bigger, smaller, older, younger, faster, slower, fitter or safer than our fellow cyclists but most of us have a shared serious passion; for simply getting on our bikes and going for a ride...

Story 12: A potted version of Pedal for Scotland

I've been on a high today after the excitement of completing yesterday's Pedal for Scotland challenge ride. I've also been on an ice pack after sustaining a few wee minor injuries in the process! I could write a big, long story about how amazing the whole day was; how much I thoroughly enjoyed the whole ride, how fantastic it was that the sun was shining, how chuffed I felt when I managed the big hills, how lucky I was not to get a puncture, how unlucky I was to have my chain come off half way up one of those big hills, how brilliant the munch stops were (especially the home baking at Avonbridge - mmmm!), how great the camaraderie was amongst our 8000 fellow riders, how good my butt felt at the end (Hooray! I think I've mastered the padding and saddle combination! Definitely sticking with my big, comfy Miss Marple saddle!), how grateful I am for every donation to the STV Appeal I received, how nice it felt to have a medal put round my neck for a sporting event again (it's been a long time!), how knackered I am today, how gorgeous the scenery was, how funny the wee guy at the side of the road in Glasgow was when he mimicked the supporters who were offering jelly babies or cups of water by shouting 'Ur ye's waant'n a draw o' ma fag..?', how daft I felt when I fell off my bike, how much like a proper cyclist I felt when I heard someone in the pelaton behind me shout 'Man Down!' when I fell off my bike (one of my favourite moments of the day!), how excited I was when I turned the last corner in Edinburgh and saw Murrayfield Stadium in the distance, how close to a mixture of happy and sad tears I was when I held Alex's hand as we crossed the finish line (just like you see in the pictures in all the papers after this kind of event!) and thought about how proud my Dad would've been that I'd risen to a wee challenge to raise money in his memory, and how glorious the cold beer tasted after saying 'Cheers!' to Alex at the end of yet another awesome day's cycling.

Yup, I could write a big, long story. Or, I could just let this wee video clip do the talking while I go off to nurse my injuries and polish my medal...

Story 11: Sailing and cycling on a not-so-sunny Sunday