Tragedy

“I can’t believe the news today
Oh, I can’t close my eyes and make it go away”

Sunday Bloody Sunday, U2

It was a phone call that I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy.

Struggling to find the energy to wake up following the previous evening’s fund raising activity in aid of Lifecycle, I hear my mobile phone ringing in the distance. Eyes closed I reach out for my phone. With one eye closed, and the other trying to make out who the caller is I realise its Liz from Lifecycle. What on earth is Liz calling me for at 730am? Not usual for her to call at such a time, but seeing that we are leaving in a week’s time something urgent must have cropped up.

Somberly she asks me whether I have heard the news, and without allowing me to say anything she informs that Cliff, a fellow cyclist and friend, was involved in a fatal accident early this morning. Unexpected and devastating news that leave me shocked, numb, angry and sad.

The details are still sketchy but the news is what it is.

I keep thinking of our last conversation, which took place yesterday. A friend of mine asked me for help to teach her eleven year old to cycle. Cliff came to mind. I called him. Without hesitation he accepted to help, giving me a date, time and place and promptly offering to provide a suitable bicycle for my friends’ daughter.

All organised in a couple of minutes.

Whenever when we cycled together, Cliff was always willing to share his expertise, giving us tips that will make us better cyclists. Being an inexperienced cyclist I always paid attention to what he had to say. Only last Sunday, we were cycling in Gozo together. Tired after cycling up Nadur hill for the umpteenth time, he stopped to cycle with me, literally pushing me up the hill, and giving me tips on how to conserve energy. He could have easily joined the ‘fast boys’ but he chose to stay with me. Such was Cliff.

Cliff, you taught me so much in the few months that we knew each other. We have lost a real gentleman, a talented cyclist but most of all a good friend.

Rest in Peace Cliff. Lifecycle 2009 will not be the same without you.

New Lease of Life

The conspiracy of silence that seems to exist when it comes to discussing anything related to death is a deeply rooted emotional concern. Potentially stemming from actual experience or fear of the unknown or not knowing what to say and where to begin.

I am sure that most of us have heard of and understood the importance of organ donation but few talk about it and even fewer contemplate signing up for it. Fair enough. It is not exactly the most pleasant of topics to discuss over a relaxed family dinner. It obviously has negative connotations.

I signed up to be an organ donor around twelve years ago. As is the usual case I did not consult my family knowing that my parents would immediately change the subject and we wouldn’t get anywhere. But I felt that it was the right thing to do although I admit I did have a number of concerns.

“Would doctors work hard to save my life in case of an emergency or will they make less of an effort so that they can save somebody else?”, “would my body be badly scarred, after my organs are taken?”, “is organ donation against my Catholic faith?”

Doctors are bound, by the Hippocratic Oath, to ethically practice medicine. The doctor’s first reaction is that to save a life and anyway it is unlikely that the doctor in an emergency situation is aware that the patient is a donor. Moreover, prior to ‘pulling the plug’ patients undergo a number of tests to ensure that there is nothing more to be done for them. Whilst one would think that the removal of organs such as the heart, liver, kidney, lungs and corneas might leave a heavily scarred body in reality this is not the case. Only small scars will show and these will be covered appropriately when the body is prepared for burial. Organ donation is a generous and worthwhile decision that can be a lifesaver and does not go against most religions including the Catholic faith.

Where am I getting to here?

The Lifecycle Organisation also works closely with the Transplant Support Group, providing information to educate potential donors and their families about organ donation. Last Friday’s Cyclists and Backup meeting was a case in point.

In order to understand the importance of our cause, a number of people, either waiting for a transplant or those who actually received one, visited us and shared their experiences. All were poignant stories. Stories of people leading normal lives one day only to find their worlds turned upside down in a flash. The one that touched me the most was that of Theresa, who I got to know recently through my involvement with Lifecycle. Theresa is our cook. She will be feeding us throughout our journey and we often joked about becoming firm friends with her. Little did I know what a moving story she had to tell.

It all happened in October 2006, when she received a phone call that was to change her family’s life. Her husband, Antoine, who was only forty four, had collapsed and been taken to hospital in critical condition. So serious was his condition that he was put on life support but never regained consciousness. Three days later he was pronounced dead leaving behind him a young family.

Antoine and his young family in happier times

As is the norm, Theresa was asked whether she was willing to donate Antoine’s organs. A tough call at very sensitive time but Theresa understood the importance of such a question, and the impact the answer would have on a number of people. Bravely she said yes. Organ donation had been discussed by the family as a cousin had required a kidney transplant some years back. Although no-one actually signed up for the organ donor scheme she knew that Antoine, who had a very generous nature, would have wanted her to donate his organs. His donation ensured that seven people were given a new lease of life.

The moral of the story?

It can be hard to think about what's going to happen to your body after you die, let alone donating your organs and tissue. But do stop and think about such a donation.

Please, don't let rumors stand in your way of saving lives. Information is available so don’t hesitate to sign up for organ donation. Inform your family of your decision and spread the word.

Theresa, Antoine's widow with Joanne, recipient of one of Antoine's corneas

Photos courtesy of Theresa Azzopardi

Tomorrow is another day

I had to practically drag myself out of my best friends’ Nicola and Kirill's wedding reception at 10pm on Saturday night, knowing that I would suffer the consequences the next day if I stayed on a bit more. But honestly, I cannot cope with a nine hour cycling session with just four hours of sleep.

And so to bed. Setting the alarm clock, I calculate that I have approximately five and a half hours. Not a lot.

4:30am I jump out of bed knowing that if I pressed the Snooze button I would fall asleep and wake up late…….very late. My breakfast consists of a banana. Am sure Alan would raise an eyebrow seeing me eat just that. Not enough carbs but I just couldn’t get out of bed those minutes earlier to prepare something more nutritious. I am simply trying to clock in as many sleeping miles as I am trying to clock cycling miles at this point in time. I chuck in another two bananas in my pocket, hoping they won’t get too mushy by the time I attack them.

Robert and I meet at 5am. The plan is to clock some mileage and warm up before the group training session. We decide on some flat terrain so we opt for the Ta’Xbiex, Gzira, Sliema, St. Julian’s seafront. Although both of us hate doing loops with a passion the route is very pleasant and relatively quiet at that time of day bar an occasional reveler going home.

Alan’s email was very short and sweet, just advising us that we would be doing the Valletta Circuit. We are sure that the route will see us climb the hill from Sa Maison to the Police Headquarters, following the ring road all around Valletta and climbing up Crucifix Hill up to Floriana heading back towards the Msida sea front. Am not overly worried about this route as I have cycled it quite often. Having said that I never attempted to do it more than once so I would have to see how I would fare.

Prior to briefing, whilst waiting for all cyclists to arrive, Carolyn and Francesca our two physios start coming around us making us do proper stretching. It is so important to do these exercises as they minimize injury and at times we often underestimate their importance.

After the usual briefing, wherein Alan explains the route I was expecting, we take the usual five minutes for the usual banter, exchange of friendly insults and group photos.

For a change we do not take the B’Kara By Pass. I know it might sound trivial but even a small change in route can be so motivating! One by one we head towards Msida. The usual ‘fast boys’, as Lenny likes to describe the really fast ones, fly off. This has stopped bothering me by now. In the initial training stages I would either get upset or else try to catch-up. Now I just stick to my pace, pushing myself until I get a good feel good factor.

The Valletta Circuit is not as hard as I expected to be. Five laps around the coast line later we meet up at The Dog or as it is commonly known the Msida Bocci Club. Although I feel quite well I still get my knees seen to by Carolyn. Biofreeze massaged into them make them feel much better.

Robert has problems with his bike. His back brake is stuck making it very difficult for him to cycle properly. So instead of joining the rest of the group to continue the remaining 100kms, we head for my house so that he can take my spare bike. Like that he can continue with the training especially today, where the long sessions have become very important.

Simon joins us and together we decide to head North and do a few laps on the Bahar ic-Caghaq Coast Road. Whilst we may know the Coast road like the back of our hand, it provides us with a good opportunity to practice our drafting techniques. A bit of wind helps us appreciate the importance of such a technique.

Lunch time and the heat is becoming unbearable. We have only covered 20kms and we have another 60kms to go. We stop for a quick bite to eat in Sliema, relishing the shade and the cooling feeling of the ice-cream we permit ourselves to have. We set off towards the southern part of the island following the coast as much as possible. Although we do not encounter many uphills, our maximum speed is going down. The heat and fatigue obviously getting to us.

Fatigue is something we must learn to handle as our reflexes become slower especially when driving in heavy traffic. We must also consider the fact that when in Turkey and Syria we will be cycling on the right side of the road. Robert is great at keeping us alert, making us aware if we start cycling in the middle of the road.

Arriving at Marsaxlokk we stop for a ‘checkpoint’. A large ftira with tomatoes washed down with ice-cold water is a welcome break. It is now 3pm and we have another 40kms to go. Although it would have been nice to wake up earlier and cover more ground prior to group training this is providing a more realistic simulation of what we are to face abroad.

I must admit that my batteries are discharging fast. Simon suddenly gets a surge of energy and I find it difficult to keep up with him. We joke about wanting to know what he has ingested so that we can have some ourselves. Possibily it is the motivation that home is getting closer and closer.

Cycling through Siggiewi I get a phone call from my mum, asking me where I was. Although her question was legitimate and out of concern all I could reply was “Where do you think I am in the Bahamas, getting a suntan?” A few seconds later my other half calls to ask the same question. Nevertheless he gets the same reply. Such is my frustration at knowing that my loved ones are sitting by a pool, under the shade of an umbrella whilst I am cycling in the sweltering heat on roads that are bumpy and too familiar.

I finally make it home at 5pm, having covered around 180kms in around 9 and half hours of cycling. All I am looking forward to is a cold shower and my air-conditioned room. Luxuries that I can enjoy now but not in Turkey and Syria.

But I am living one day at a time. Tomorrow is another day!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

With a little help from my friends

Challenges like Lifecycle really bring out people’s real worth. It is easy to smile and be happy when all is going according to plan.

But when things get tough?

What happens when you feel you have reached your breaking point?

What happens when you are injured and cannot cope with training?

What happens when you are just trying to cope with personal issues?

Last Sunday, in my opinion, saw me facing the toughest training day yet. Not having slept much the previous night, not through late night partying, indulging in rich food or drink, but simply because I had too much on my mind, waking up at 530am was already a chore.

I knew what I was in for. I had read and reread Alan’s email describing the route quite a few times to make sure I understood where I had to go. I kept seeing the words Mizieb, San Martin hill, 2 kilometres climb scroll by in my imagination. The weatherman had predicted high temperatures, so although we would be starting relatively early, completing the scheduled 160kms would have to be done in the intense midday sun.

My subdued demeanor quickly grabs the attention of Carolyn, Maria, Carolina and Steph who rally round me to see what's up. I guess the vibe was strong enough to keep the rest of the guys away as soon as they saw five women having a serious conversation.

During briefing Alan tells us that he expects us to do the loop at least three times. We would be stopping at a checkpoint in Xemxija and are advised to look for the specifically put up signs. These will be the signs that we would need to watch out for during the Challenge. They will be welcomed signs as we will know that we are on the right track.

When cycling for long distances, I always keep my friend Tatyana’s words in mind. Start slow and build up. An approach that I have found works well for me. I am usually one of the last to leave. I have no intention of cycling fast especially in days like this, when my energy reserves are very low. I am definitely not going to waste the little I have on the B’Kara by Pass.

I start cycling with Robert, Carolina, Simon and Tony. Carolina, who has sensed my subdued nature without saying much, tells me to focus my energies on my legs. I admit I am quite skeptical but I have nothing to lose. The closer I get to the first hill the more nauseated I feel. A thousand and one thoughts are going through my mind. Only one is related to cycling though.

As we reach Mizieb Hill, I feel the butterflies taking up all my energy, so forget channeling it into my legs. Playing around with the gears I start climbing slowly. Within seconds I feel the lactic acid building in my legs. I try to breathe to get a steady flow of oxygen. I increase my cadence. Slowly the feeling starts subsiding.

As we reach the first part of the hill, we see Edward waiting for us, cheeky grin and all. I jokingly ask him to quickly take my bike and take me up to the end of Mizieb Hill. He laughs obligingly knowing well that I would rather crawl up than hitch a lift.

The downhill part is exhilarating. My GPS registers a speed of 42km/hr. Slowly this figure starts going down and the % incline starts going up, reaching a maximum of 12%. Shifting gears to increase cadence, I focus on keeping a constant rhythm, ensuring the right posture. I can see Carolina looking back in my direction and shouting “use your energies” as we go up the steep hill leading to the Mellieha by Pass.

It takes me around 15 minutes to do the whole climb, from the Ghajn Tuffieha by Pass. Reaching the top of the hill I find Soner, Alan and Shirley. Whilst Soner and Shirley are giving words of encouragement I see Alan looking attentively at my cycling skills. I feel under pressure at that moment but I know it is being done to ensure that we tackle the whole thing properly.

As I pedal fast to try to reach the other cyclists, I do not think of San Martin hill, which is what awaits us next. I just enjoy the downhill ride, wary of the cars that are whizzing past, oblivious to most of us, as if we are some invisible creature.

San Martin, although 2 kilometres long with inclines reaching around 10%, seems less hard than Mizieb. As the early morning becomes mid-morning the intensity of the sun is being felt more and more. Building up confidence, I try to cycle standing up using the honking technique. I manage a few metres then a car edges past me and I quickly sit down to maintain balance but soon attempt this technique again and start to enjoy the benefits of using it.

It is amazing how much extra power is generated when using this technique, especially when climbing a steep hill. It also gives the backside a rest and allows the blood circulation to get to parts that may be going numb. So it is very important to get confident using the technique especially when we will be cycling for longer periods of time.

I suddenly realise that I am cut off from the rest of the group. I am not sure if anyone is behind me. I keep pedaling, eager to reach another downhill and hopefully another bunch of cyclists. As I near Mizieb hill, I find Robert and Carolina waiting for me, looking back to see that I am ok. Whilst I am cycling regularly with these guys, I do not expect them to hold back because of me, although I probably would had I been in their shoes.

With his cheeky grin, Robert encourages me to go on. One down two to go we joke. Energies. Energies. I decide some music will give me some momentum. Switching on my iPod, and putting a headphone in one ear to ensure that I can hear nearby sounds, I choose some workout music which helps me keep the rhythm.

This time round, I feel the energies in my legs. It was equally tough but the mind must have settled into this grueling exercise. Again focusing on my cadence and breathing I reach the top of the hill and head down, at substantial speed towards Xemxija where we see our first Checkpoint sign.

The ice-cream kiosk does not entice me to indulge in an ice-cream however I do treat myself to a large bottle of cold water, some of which I pour over my head to cool down. Robert and Simon like the idea and soon follow suit! Copycats!

Alan walks up to see how I am faring. We are half way in the route. We still have to do San Martin twice and Mizieb once, before we reach our final group stop at Mgarr. I don’t want my muscles to cool down so Robert and I set off, trying to keep a pace that is comfortable for both of us. As I progress I feel an improvement in my pace. I feel less in awe of the steep inclines.

As we reach Mgarr, I am parched. The late morning sun is strong. The few drops of water left in my bottle are so hot I could just chuck in a tea bag and make myself a cup of tea. Looking at the stats on my GPS, I am happy to see that I have increased my average speed from the start of the morning. Sitting down for a welcome coffee and snack, Tony, Carolina, Simon, Robert and I exchange experiences with Stephanie and Francesca, who in the meantime is tending to my sore knees.

Although I am feeling tired, I feel I am ready to tackle the remaining 60kms, going through flat roads as Alan advised. Robert, Simon, Carolina and I set off to complete the remaining kilometres. I get home at 230pm. As I put my bike into the garage, take out the GPS and put my helmet on the shelf, I realise that today’s feel good factor was possible with a little help from my friends!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

Living on the edge

The inevitable has happened.

It was not a matter of “if” but “when” unfortunately.

John, a fellow Lifecyclist, was injured on Friday. Not through recklessness from his part but from the part of a motorist who decided to change direction without indicating his intentions.

The result? John's leg is in plaster. His ligaments damaged A long awaited trip to watch U2 in concert ruined. His hopes of participation in this year's Betfair Lifecycle event dashed. Not to mentioned a written off bicycle.

Sad, considering all the effort he had put into training till now.

Some weeks ago I had written about the recklessness that we cyclists encounter on the roads. I commented that an accident is bound to happen. Whilst my observations where supported by a large number of readers, a fellow cyclist commented “ you guys need to stop worrying about traffic and start enjoying it :)”. I was totally not amused.

Such a comment is expected from someone who thrives on being a couch potato not a seasoned cyclist who competes regularly in related events. Trying to depict me as a neurotic cyclist who is afraid to be on the road is not something I would have expected from this person. I like to consider myself to be a confident cyclist who is conscious of the irresponsible driving that takes place on our road.

Anyway, I am not going into another debate on the safety of our roads. I could keep going on till I am blue in the face.

The reality is what it is though. Drivers, who actually show some sort of consideration, towards us cyclists, are few and far between and can be counted on one hand.

It is such a shame, that conscientious cyclists, like John, who try to enjoy their sport are risking so much just for the sake of a few immature and irresponsible drivers.

Summertime

"Summertime
And the living is easy............."
"Summertime" by George Gershwin

The words of that classic song came to mind last Monday whilst cycling past the newly designated Blue Flag beach in St. George’s Bay. Oh yes, the sweet smells of summer hit, or rather, slapped me in the face making me realise how little I was living easy when most of my free time has been spent on the bicycle saddle cycling through the same roads, avoiding the same pot holes and crazy drivers just to clock up the miles.

While all my friends were happily soaking up the sun, reading their favourite magazine on a comfortable sun bed or bickered as to what they were going to eat for lunch at our favourite beach, I was busy monitoring my speed, cadence and heart rate building up stamina and strength for the Betfair Lifecycle Challenge in August.

At the pre-visit presentation held last week by Gilbert, Mario and Soner the adventure started becoming more of a reality. Impressive scenery awaits us but so do hills with a 10% or even higher incline that will not be over in a few minutes just like the Mellieha by Pass or T’Alla W Ommu hill.

As the weeks roll by, the training schedule intensifies. By next week our rest days would have been gone completely. Our lives will revolve around work and training leaving little time for anything else – unless you are one of the lucky few that work half days or have a long summer vacation. Frustration at having to go through the same routine, day in day out, will build up.

Weekends will come and go in a flurry of training. Saturdays will see us cycle for 6 hours and Sundays will see us cycle for 9 hours – minimum. The same routine of waking up, bleary eyed at 330am to try to clock some mileage before the scorching sun hits us will continue although we might change that schedule to attempt getting used to the sweltering heat that will beat down upon us in Turkey and Syria.

The concern of possible injuries is on the back of our minds. We cannot afford to get injured now, after all this sacrifice, but the possibilities, unfortunately abound.

Apart from the training we must also work hard to raise funds, which in this year’s economic climate is no mean feat. We are lucky to have found some generous sponsors and benefactors but it is never enough. We must ensure that the money keeps coming in, whatever the amount, every penny counts.

So, while you are living the dolce vita, enjoying summer, please spare a thought for all those giving up their free time and more importantly some funds towards the Betfair Lifecycle Challenge.