Story 10: Reaching the top, with a saddle and a song

When you tell yourself that you can't do something it's more likely that you'll stop trying. It may well be that you really can't do it, but if you don't keep trying how will you ever really know for sure? This week I managed to do two things that I've been telling myself for years I couldn't do. Fortunately, I managed to stop listening to myself long enough to think it was possible to achieve these things and, aw man, were they worth the wait! One involves cycling and one involves singing (...bear with me...!)

1. Reaching the top (cycling)

I've always been rubbish at cycling up hills. At least, that's what I've always told myself. OK, maybe not always. When I was a kid out cycling round the ever-so-safe streets of Cumbernauld (one of Britain's 'new towns'), I wasn't rubbish at cycling up hills. Not that I remember anyway. What I do remember is the very moment when I decided that I was rubbish at hills. We were out for a family cycle along the path from Callander to Strathyre, many moons ago, when my kids were around the same age that I would've been when I was carefree cycling around the streets of Cumbernauld. We came to a big, steep hill. Off they went. All of them. Alex and the kids. Easy peasy. Off I went. Jeeso. I got about a third of the way up and everything stopped working. Not the bike, it was working fine. I just couldn't turn the pedals. So, I stopped. Alex and the kids were at the top, shouting and encouraging me on. 'Come on mum, you can do it!' But, I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I tried a few times to get going again but it just wasn't happening. 'There must be something wrong with these gears!' I shouted up to Alex. So, he came down the hill and tried to help. Gears were fine. With a wee bit of a push and a big bit of encouragement I managed to get going again. For a few yards. Then I stopped. Everything stopped working again. Sod it. I can't do this. I'm a rubbish cyclist and I can't cycle up hills. So, I got off my bike and pushed it the rest of the way. And, ever since, I've believed that I'm rubbish at cycling up hills. Now, you might say, is that really such a big deal?! Well, no, I could definitely have got through the rest of my life without managing to comfortably cycle up a steep hill. But, aw man, what would I have been missing?!! During our cycle last Sunday, from Dunkeld to Perth and back (a few more details here) I managed to cycle up every hill without stopping and it felt totally awesome! Now, I don't think that's because I've become super-fit during these past few weeks; what I do think has changed is my attitude to trying to reach the top. Instead of starting at the bottom, looking up and thinking to myself 'I'm never going to manage this one...', I approached each of the hills on Sunday with the words of Rebecca Ramsay ringing in my ears 'Head out to the hills and enjoy their magic' (along with some of the more practical advice that I'd read on her site). And I guess this would've sounded ridiculous to me a few weeks ago - but it really was magic! I did it! And it felt great! I'm not rubbish at cycling up hills! OK, I'm still pretty rubbish at cycling up hills because a few walkers almost passed us on the way, but the point is that I can do it. I'm telling myself I can do it - or, I can at least keep trying to do it instead of keeping on saying 'nope, I'm rubbish at that, no point in even trying. Alex, gies a push..!' And that's how I'll continue to reach the top of big hills. Maybe not always quite managing it, but I'll be giving it a better go with a better attitude.

2. Reaching the top (singing)

First, I don't mean reaching the top in a talent competition or anything like that! No, I'm trying to be metaphorical here! Second, I should probably explain why there's stuff about singing on a cycling blog. Well, reference to singing's likely to crop up every now and again on this wee blog as it's something that I love and something that I do a lot of with my choir. And, the buzz that I'm getting from my cycling exploits is pretty similar to the buzz that I get from our choir exploits. I don't have a sore butt, or handle bar palsy after choir practice, but I do feel the buzz from the flow of endorphins in the exact same way as I do after a cycle. After a bad experience involving a Greek Island, a packed pub, copious amounts of alcohol, and taking the microphone to sing a very flat version of 'Oh Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff A Bus', I swore never to sing on my own in public again. I told myself that I couldn't sing solo. I thought I'd be rubbish at it and sing flat. But being a member of the Heart of Scotland Choir (no ordinary choir; more Madonna than Mendelssohn) gave me the confidence to try again and for the past year or so I've been able to walk to the microphone at the front of the choir (still pretty nervously) and sing a few solo parts. However, I still had another demon to conquer. One of my music teachers at school, many moons ago, told me that I should stick to singing low songs as I sounded 'screechy' when I hit the high notes. So, I stopped singing high notes. Because I was rubbish at it. My music teacher said so, so it must've been true. Even in the shower at home. I just didn't do the high notes. But, choir leaders Annie and Jane don't really do 'don't do', they do 'we're pretty sure you can do' and 'we'll help give you the confidence to do what we know you can do'. And, 'even if we don't know that you can do, we're going to give you a go if you'd like to have a go!' (Are you keeping up with this..?!) And so it was that last night I stood in front of the microphone in The Great Hall of Stirling Castle and sang some high notes. I thought I sounded screechy, because I've been telling myself for 30 years that I sound screechy when I sing high notes. But it seemed to go down well and, once I'd stopped shaking, I got such a buzz from reaching those top notes. Just like with the cycling, I might not always manage it, and sometimes I might sound a bit screechy or not quite make it all the way, but that doesn't mean I should stop trying.

So, there you go. Reaching the top with my saddle and a song. A great way to start the weekend!

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....