Story 36: Arran revisited ... and conquered

(A wee bit more information, for those of you interested in the fine detail, here on Map My Ride)

Story 8: The ride that started it all

Tour d'Arran

Date: 11 - 12 July

Distance: 56 miles 

I've mentioned our cycle round Arran a few times already, but I guess I wanted to record it properly as my first 'Ride to Remember'!

We had headed off to Arran because the sun was shining and we just fancied a wee break away from it all. Alex suggested taking the bikes and I, reluctantly, agreed. When we arrived off the ferry into Brodick I asked one of the locals which was the best way for a novice cyclist to go. ‘Well, if you head north, it’s flat for about 10 miles till you pass Sannox. And the scenery’s lovely. If you head south, you hit a really big steep hill straight away that goes on for miles and then it’s really steep up and down after that. I’d head north to Sannox and back again; that’s a good, easy route for a novice.’ So, that’s what we planned to do. However, Sannox came around ever so quickly and I heard myself saying to Alex, ‘Let’s carry on. I’m loving this and don’t want to head back the way!’ Hm, little did I know that just a few miles past Sannox we would hit two really steep hills (no, I mean it, REALLY steep hills), first through Glen Sannox and then through Glen Chalmadale.  I just about had a fit when we turned the corner and I could see the long and winding road, the breathtaking scenery and a breathtakingly humongous hill stretching ahead of me. But, with head down, handle bars gripped and a few sweary words muttered I went for it. I didn’t do a very good job but - with a lot of pushing (quite literally) and fantastic encouragement from Alex – I did manage to cycle all the way to the top of the Glens. Catching my breath on the many occasions that I had to stop gave me plenty of time to take in the truly beautiful surrounding scenery, so going at dead slow/stop pace does have its advantages! The very best thing though about going uphill is going downhill on the other side. The child in me came well and truly out and I couldn’t resist a fair few ‘Woohoo’s’ as we free-wheeled at what felt like 70 but was actually closer to 30mph (according to Alex's Garmin!) down into Lochranza.

By this time we’d cycled around 15 miles and a very yummy sandwich and real ginger beer from The Sandwich Station went down a treat. We sat on a bench opposite this lovely wee take-away place, gazing into the beautifully clear water and thinking how nice it would be to go for a swim. But, the road was calling and soon we were off again! 

I found it quite hard going between Lochranza and Blackwaterfoot, but was still thoroughly enjoying the ride. It was much more exposed than before; we’d cycled round the top of the island and were now travelling down the less sheltered side of Arran. There were a few more hills to tackle, though none compared to the challenge of the morning’s climbs. The last five miles or so before Blackwaterfoot were really tough; mostly because I was absolutely knackered, but also because some of my ‘bits’ were really sore. Like my hands, my calves, my thighs, my shoulders, my back, my back bottom, my front bottom, my ... basically, everything was sore. But, it was all well worth it. I’ll never forget how elated I felt when I spotted the ‘Blackwaterfoot’ sign and knew that I’d managed to cycle about 32 miles.

I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a beer quite as much as I did that day sitting outside Blackwaterfoot's Kinloch Hotel. I didn’t realise that beer could taste so good. To be honest, it could’ve been the rubbishiest beer on the planet, but it would still have tasted heavenly at that moment! Poor Alex then headed off over The String (the most evil road for cyclists on the whole of Arran) to collect the car so that me and my bike could be whisked back to Brodick the easy way. While he was away, I took myself into the water to help relieve my aching muscles (like a serious athlete!). The sea was icy cold, but I felt all warm and fuzzy inside just having a wee moment to think about how awesome the day had been.

The next morning we drove back to Blackwaterfoot with the bikes and took off again from where we’d stopped. This was a much, much tougher day for me. I was still running on adrenalin from the day before but my butt and my hands were particularly sore. I learned the hard way during our Tour d’Arran that gripping the handle bars really tightly won’t get me up the hills any easier and it’ll leave me with a common cycling injury (check me out!) called ‘handlebar palsy’. I’ll tell you more about that some other time. As for the sore butt, well, that’s a whole other issue that I still haven’t quite got to the bottom of.  I’m sure my quest for the best saddle, best shorts, best padding, best position and any other multitude of things that can help soften the soreness of my down-below bits when I’m cycling will take up plenty of space in my not-so-serious stories to come. For now, it’s suffice to say that the second day of our ride around Arran was much tougher – even though it was a good bit shorter – than the first. The road from Blackwaterfoot to Brodick round the south of the island isn’t as nice a road as the north route. It’s full of potholes and it’s hilly. And I mean hilly. It was a different kind of hilly from the long slog of the scenic glens from the day before. Sharp, steep, unforgiving and way too many of them. I found it really tough and I was oh so close to giving up by the time we reached Whiting Bay. We’d cycled about 15 miles and I was absolutely knackered. Fantastic views, lots of encouragement and the thought of an ice cold beer kept me going.

Lunch sitting outside a wee cafe called Coast (which I’d recommend for the food, but not for the hospitality) provided a bit of a distraction before we set off on the last leg of our tour. Those last ten miles were so hard. I kept shouting at my bike; as if that was going to make it any easier! ‘Come ON you f****r’ (sorry Mum). Oh dear. At least it was only the clegs and Alex that could hear me. And then, the glorious last bit. Hooray! That massive uphill out of Brodick that the local woman had warned us about was, for us, a fantastic downhill and my shouting and swearing turned to shouting and cheering (along with a few wee tears...) as I whizzed down towards the ‘Brodick’ sign. Aw man, I can’t begin to explain how good that felt. The wee clip that I posted on Story 1 probably best sums it up.

So, that was it. My first proper cycle and the one that got me hooked. I may well be a not-so-serious cyclist, but I seriously enjoyed our Tour d’Arran; the first, I predict, of many special (but hopefully not quite so sore) experiences on my saddle.

Story 1: Coming out of my huff (or, my progression from a not-so-serious runner to a not-so-serious cyclist...)

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....