Day 2 - Kandira to Zonguldak

Tucking into a hearty breakfast, we make last minute checks to our bikes before we depart on a 187 kilometre journey, which promises to be tough. Under the watchful eye of the University's curious staff, Alan give us a short briefing followed by a blessing from Fr. Pierre. The latter generates more curiosity but no one disrupts the proceedings showing the levels of the courtesy shown towards us till now. Blessing over, final touches are made and with the final word of warning about keeping our timings we set off in the same teams as yesterday.

Listening attentively during Alan's briefing





Resetting my GPS in preparation for today's journey

Off we go. The start of Day 2

Being a long day, I decide that I will focus on getting from one checkpoint to another, attempting to channel my energy in such a way that I will be able to complete today, hopefully on time. Our first checkpoint will be in the village of Karamvezzinuer - a long name that I can barely pronounce but which is easy to identify when looking at road signs. The route takes us through rolling countryside, giant fields of green and yellow, where the next harvest promises to yield large amounts of wheat and where thousands of sunflowers, looking up towards the sun were planted. Tony and I instantaneously started humming Fields of Gold, to which I commented that my progress in cycling shows from the fact that I don't require CPR if I attempt to sing and cycle at the same time.

Fields of Gold

Flat tyres seem to be the order of the day, with my first flat for the day happening within the first hour. My fellow cyclists stop to give assistance as does Alan who had just passed by in the backup vehicle. Shirley starts urging us to take note of our timing and hints that no-one should stop for each other especially for something as trivial as a flat but we don't take head. We want to cycle together as a team as much as possible.

The road to the first checkpoint is undulating, but the inclines are not too harsh. My knees start to give me a twinge of pain here and there but I try to ignore it. I have ten more days to go and I cannot let them disrupt my focus. Some Biofreeze gel and a good massage from the physio at the next check point will do miracles. The scenery at the first Checkpoint is lovely and I manage to quickly cross the road to absorb the beautify of a nearby lake for a few seconds.

The not-too-harsh inclines are short lived when we have to tackle a 12% incline, which yet again was not indicated on the route cards. The lactic acid starts building up, even though I am trying my best to breathe properly to ensure that enough oxygen is distributed. The incline at one point increases to 16% or so my GPS is showing. Having said that the effort feels like I am going up a mountain not a bumpy Turkish road in the middle of nowhere!

Always a welcome sign!

Leaving our checkpoint in Ugoluk, we proceed ahead, looking forward to the 40K flat road which would allow us a glimpse of the Black Sea. Robert, Lenny, Nick, Nicholas, Luke, Tony, Ian and I start drafting. The wind is against us and what should have been an easy road proves to be a tough endeavour. Drafting helps although the group splits up at one point. The Black sea on our left, we catch a glimpse of the water's edge. Although rough, it is inviting but we cannot stop, we are still far from our second checkpoint and we can ill afford to lose precious time. Suddenly I realise that I have another flat tyre. Robert quickly stops to assist me. He has changed so many flat tyres in the last twenty four hours that he is becoming a pro, similar to the Formula 1 pit stops, changing the tyre with effortless ease. Ian having cycled quite far ahead suddenly realises that the troupe is not behind him so, concerned, he cycles back to meet us.

The long, never ending road, where we had to battle strong winds

Picking up a steady pace on the side of the road, I get the feeling I am being followed. It is actually the case. We are being escorted by a police car, who are driving slowly behind us giving us a 'cover' ensuring that we are given a wide berth by vehicles travelling in our direction. The wind is really slowing us down. We are all getting tired and looking forward to the next checkpoint. Some respite. A friendly face. A bit of food to give us more energy.

Our staple diet throughout Lifecycle

Stopping at the Opet service station we find Space, Carolyn, Hulya and Edward to greet us. Unfortunately we learn that Paul has withdrawn from cycling the challenge. It is sad when someone has to call it a day but there is always a valid reason and a difficult choice. Whatever the reason, I think that even just making it to Istanbul commands respect for the cyclists. Handing me my favourite blue Powerade, Carolyn sits me down and massages my knees with Biofreeze. I have to admit that the pain is increasing and I am worried. I still have far to go. Carolyn reassures me telling me that it is normal to feel such pain. Each checkpoint I have to make sure that I get some physio done. My energy levels, although I have been eating, are depleting. I decide to try out one of the vials that my friend and sports doctor Kirill recommended. I don't know what exactly is in them but the taste is foul smelling, a cross between a herbal concoction and bad cough medicine. I let out a gasp which makes everybody turn round to see what happened. Snatching another Powerade from Hulya, I drink it in one gulp making sure that the bitter taste is gone. I am quite sceptical when it comes to these energy drinks, bars and gels but I have nothing to lose and I have full faith in what Kirill recommended.

The start of the killer climb. We did not know what was in store for us

Time up and we soon head off. The route card tells us that we are to face some hills, approximately 6k at 5% - not too bad. The first signs featuring Zonguldak indicate that we have around 87kms to go. As we keep on following these signs and the Lifecycle route signs, we start going uphill. A winding road, that keeps on twisting and turning into a never ending bend. My GPS is indicating inclines of 12%, had it not been for the yellow fluorescent Route sign I would have been worried that I got the wrong road. It is quite easy to miss a sign, it could have either been removed as a joke or even been hidden by a parked vehicle. But not in this case. This hill was for real. Going up I keep a slow but steady pace. I should have attempted to honk, but I did not want to risk something going wrong and losing the momentum.

It is Nicholas' turn to get a flat tyre. Robert urges me to continue and stops to help him. The backup vehicle has caught up with us. Hulya and Carolyn encouraging us. Space jokingly comments about the content of the vial as I am doing very well in this hill. His comment is very encouraging as I must admit that prior to seeing the backup van, I had so much pain in my legs that I felt like turning back, going to the checkpoint, throwing my bike on the ground and saying "I've had enough, this was not on the route card, I am fed up, I give up".

In such circumstances, when you find yourself cycling on your own you get a million and one thoughts. Yes giving up comes to mind many a time. It's like having an imaginary Angel on your right shoulder and an imaginary Devil on your left. The Angel is reminding you of the effort that you have put in till now, so giving up should not be an option, whilst the Devil is enticing you with the comfort of sitting in a van, laughing and chatting and not suffering the lactic acid build up in your leg muscles. I decide to listen to my guardian Angel and keep on cycling until I get to a flat surface. My joy is short lived as I realise I have another flat tyre. The last thing that I feel like. I start to change the wheel but Nicky, Tony and Robert catchup with me and help me - they are definitely much faster, in changing a flat, than I am.

Deep concentration, trying to take heed of my Guardian Angel rather than the Devil

The conquering of that day's hill was such a motivator. We all felt that since we had not stopped once then there was hope for all of us. Darkness is rapidly approaching. The signs towards Zonguldak are appearing at more regular intervals, and the distance is decreasing consistently. 40kms away from Zonguldak we are given some respite, enjoying some nice downhills. Ideal for recovery. 10kms away from our accommodation we encounter our first tunnels. Whilst some people do not like tunnels, I don't mind them. A tunnel means that we have probably avoided some nasty uphill and to be honest right now the tunnel is much appreciated, as is the light that is showing me the way, from the backup vehicle driven by Mario and Soner.

Found bang in the hear of Turkey's main coal district, Zonguldak is not the most appealing stop over choice, but Lifecycle is not about appeal. It is about getting from one location to another, finding appropriate accommodation and getting on with it.

Our accommodation in Zonguldak

Reaching the accommodation, I find Alan and Tim waiting to clock us in. My timing hasn't improved much but Alan tells me that today's average speed has been modified due to the very strong winds that we encountered on the coast. Mario takes my bike and together we walk up to the gym where we will be spending the night. The University gym is equipped with clean showers and warm water which are very welcome after such a hard day. Therese and her team have prepared a delicious pasta and as a treat we find we have ice-cold Coca Cola! Robert, Tony, Nicky and Nicholas arrive shortly after me and don't wait to dress for dinner but immediately tuck into their supper.

Carolyn does some physiotherapy before I make a quick phone call home. It is hard for the loved ones at home to wait for a message or call. They are oblivious to what is happening and can only try to imagine what is happening, hoping for the best. Fr. Pierre calls us in for mass., half way through an exhausted Simon arrives. He is not very well today, so we are very pleased to see him walk in on two legs, albeit very tired.

Day 2 is over. I remove today's route card and fix Day 3 on the lanyard. Writing some brief notes into my diary I know that there is still a long way to go but I am determined to, slowly slowly, get to the final checkpoint in Damascus.

All photos, unless otherwise stated, courtesy of Shirley Cefai

Day 1 - Istanbul to Kandira

The evocative call of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer at 530am heralded the start of Lifecycle Challenge 2009 as we set off, in a convoy towards the Bosphorous Bridge.

It had only been an hour earlier that we had been tucking into a hearty breakfast, freshly prepared by Theresa and her team. All athletes know how important it is to eat well, even though perhaps at such an unearthly hour, food is the last thing on one's mind. Reluctantly I try to evenly distribute Nutella, the popular hazelnut based sweet spread, onto a piece of fresh bread, amazed at the Kitchen Team's ability to source fresh bread in a foreign country at that time of day. Whilst others might jump at the opportunity of having a guilt free snack all in the name of physical exercise, I am not a fan of Nutella. After making the sacrifice of eating my first piece of bread, I realise that there is peanut butter, of which never partake but these are special times. So I indulge!

Supervising the loading of my bike, prior to departure

Breakfast over luggage and bikes are placed in the truck, one last look to ensure that nothing has been left behind. Cyclists packed in the vans. The convoy sets off towards the Bosphorus bridge where a police escort would see us through the first 20kms.

Just as the weatherman had predicted, a thunder storm hit the city of Istanbul during the night, leaving the roads full of sloughs of mud and water. Thankfully, it gave us some respite when it was time to load the luggage and bikes on to the vans but the break did not last long, starting again as soon as we drove onto the highway, promising us a wet start to the challenge.

Huddled in the vans we waited for the police escort to arrive. We are all set to go and the delay is a tad annoying. Although no one says anything you can sense a hint of tension on the air. Dressed in waterproof clothing I just couldn't believe the weather. We had so much psyched ourselves up for sweltering weather that this was almost a joke. But, in reality this is just the first part of the first day. As the saying goes "It ain't over till the fat lady sings" so with eleven days to go I am sure that this start will not be a reflection of the weather we are to expect, especially in Syria.

7am and finally the police escort, on his BMW motorcycle, arrives. It is time to set off. Simon Pullicino the Maltese consul joins us using Space's bike. I must admit that I got slightly emotional as soon as Alan set us off. Cycling through the muddy puddles, we are soon covered in mud and grime. Halfway through the bridge crossing we encounter a sign, welcoming us into the Asian part of Turkey. Few people will ever be given this opportunity. I savour it as much as possible.

Reaching the 20km mark, we are stopped at the Shell petrol station. It has already been three hours since we had breakfast, and although the distance cycled was negligible we are hungry. The back up team provide us with flapjacks, bananas, nuts and water. Having the luxury of clean bathroom facilities we take the opportunity to wipe the grime off our faces.

My smile at seeing a banana would eventually fade in the subsequent days

Alan sets us off in teams starting off with Nicholas and Paul. Shortly after it is our team's turn. As agreed Robert, Simon, Tony, Ian and myself set off, having decided to attempt to cycle together as much as possible. The weather is deteriorating, our bikes are filthy and so are we. My glasses are wet through and wished I had wipers. However we pick up a pace and gradually cycle towards the first checkpoint, where the rain starts easing off giving us time to eat our jacket potatoes and drink Powerade without having to find shelter.

Surprisingly, the heavy downpour did not have an effect on the temperature, which remains relatively warm making me remove my rain jacket and give it to Carolyn to keep in their van. The less stuff I carry on me the better and the skies seem to be opening up. The last thing I want to do is get hot and end up dehydrating myself. The joy is short lived as soon as we get towards Yenikoy it starts to rain heavily again. luckily we meet Carolyn's van where I had left my jacket. Stopping for shelter in a bar, where Robert, Tony and I kit ourselves again in our rain gear, the owner promptly gives me napkins to wipe my sunglasses. We did not even stop to buy anything, actually we just made a mess of his clean floor. Turkish hospitality is proving to be excellent.

The scenery is amazing. Reminding me of the Gorges du Verdon in France with lush landscapes, tall trees and narrow winding roads. The incline is a bit steep but we soon find a nice downhill which few of us resist to slow down on.

As Nicholas, Robert and myself start going downhill Paul whizzes by with no intention of slowing down. Unfortunately when we catch up with him we find him sitting at the edge of the road, without his helmet, his bike a few metres down in a field and his water bottles scattered around him. I promptly stop to see what happened. He has flown off his bike hitting his head. As he is not feeling too well, I promptly make use of the ten code guide that Alan has instructed us to use. Since Paul is feeling a bit queasy we decide not to leave him alone and wait for the doctor. Shortly after Edward and Space arrive in their vehicles and instruct us to continue cycling. knowing he is in good hands we proceed.

Joy! we soon we start seeing signs leading us to Kandira meaning that soon will be arriving at our accomodation for the night and Day 1 will be over.

Our elation is soon subdued as soon as we are faced with a steep 10% incline which seems to be endless. Looking at my route card, I begin to worry that we might have taking a wrong turning, since the card said "Uphill 4% for 4 K". Physically it doesn't get to me as much as it gets to me psychologically. My psyche prefers seeing a 15% incline written on my route card, preparing me for the worst only to find that its a lower incline than vice versa. When I see a fluorescent sign saying Lifecycle Route I am relieved to know that I am on the right road.

At least the clouds seem to have dispersed and as we approach Kandira the weather is quite warm. We are all disgustingly dirty, faces, arms and legs all dotted with grime picked up from the roads during the morning's downpour. At 121kms we find Alan and Tim waiting to clock us in. Although we have cycled at a good steady pace we have not made the required time. Seeing my face of concern Alan assures us that, unless something major happens, we would be able to make up for it in the coming days.

Our accommodation, a kilometre away, is a University residence. Bed with ensuite bathrooms, Western style, no holes in the ground are pure luxury. Taking a shower to wash off the grime was quite a task as was the washing of our muddy clothes. As I hang up my clothes to dry in the basketball court, the cooks are preparing a hearty dinner of salads and pasta. Sitting down to eat my dinner, I realise how hungry I am even though, throughout the day I have stuffed myself with flapjacks, bananas, jacket potatoes and bread with Nutella.

Nighttime still seems slightly far off, so ten of us venture on a trip to a neighbouring store giving ourselves us a pre-bedtime treat of an ice cream. Having barely digested the ice cream we head back to the university where most of us crash into the comfortable beds.

Day 1 is over. The first 121 kilometres have been covered.

Tomorrow is another day!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

Last minute preparations

My ear plugs did not really do the trick as I could still hear the snoring echoing around me. Thankfully I was tired so the pain was not endured for a long time. A few early risers, who luckily for them I did not manage to identify, meant that everyone started waking up around 6am even though it wasn't necessary for us to do so. I guess, that deep down, we all wanted to get our bikes sorted and make sure that all was in order.

Theresa and her team had woken up earlier (but no I was not referring to them as the rowdy early risers) and prepared our breakfast in an adjoining room. Hot coffee, fresh bread, Nutella, peanut butter, cereal and biscuits were laid out for us and did not last very long as all of us woke up famished. Once breakfast was sorted we all went back into the gym, started to open our boxes and assemble our bikes.

All seemed well when I opened my bike bag and start unpacking the various bits and pieces but soon after disaster strikes! My bike’s disc and frame are badly damaged. I burst into tears. We haven’t even started cycling yet and the bike is broken. No dramatic fall to show for it. Just the carelessness of the airline's baggage handlers. My tears of frustration turn into tears of anger. So much for the FRAGILE stickers. 'Space' comes to see what the problem is and in true typical 'Space' fashion points out to the dent, telling me that I have major problems. Do I want to hear that? Do I need to hear that? No No No!!!!!! Simon, who has come to see what's wrong, tries to tone down the situation whilst Robert, painstakingly fixes the damaged disc. The dent cannot be repaired so the frame, eventually, will need to be changed but I am assured that it should not hinder my participation.

The rest of the morning sees the gym a hive of activity, with all cyclists busy assembling their bikes, making sure they have enough spares available. The backup team is taking care to ensure that enough food is available, drivers ensure there is enough fuel to start off the journey and Ray is busy snapping away taking photos and videos which will provide us with a lovely memory of this challenge.

With almost all cyclists having assembled their bikes, we have the luxury of some free time. Some cyclists decide to hang around in the gym while a few us decide to head off to the city centre. The first stop is a bike shop since Nicholas inadvertently left his cleats and helmet in Jesmond’s van on his way to the airport, whilst others want to buy last minute knick-knacks. Some of us decide to visit the Grand Bazaar. Although I have been, I feel it is the best way to capture the romantic atmosphere of old Istanbul and I never tire of going there.

The Grand Bazaar is one of the largest covered markets in the world with 60 streets and around 5,000 shops selling a variety of items such as jewellery, hand-painted ceramics, carpets, embroideries, spices and antiques. Generally all stalls are grouped by the types of goods they sell but souvenir shops selling the traditional eye, shishas and prayer beads. A traditional trading centre since 1461, the complex houses two mosques, four fountains, two hamams and several cafes. It is easy to forget, for a couple of hours the real purpose of our visit to Istanbul until fatigue starts hitting us and we decide to take a taxi home, avoiding the uncomfortable hour long bus ride home.

By the time we get there, the cooks are already getting ready for the evening meal, whilst a few cyclists are putting the finishing touches to their bikes. Alan, Tim and Mario going over the maps ensuring that the routes are in order. Edward, Mario and Liz busy affixing Lifecycle stickers to the vehicles ensuring that they are recognisable from a distance.

No visit to Turkey is complete without the purchase of the Blue Eye, which Robert, Simon, Maria and I purchase and attach to our bikes. The Blue Eye traditionally in Turkey is believed that wards off evil, brings luck and success to all those who carry it. Although I don't really believe in it, I think it is a pretty ornament, which goes well with my bike number plate.

The Maltese Consul, Simon Pullicino joins us for dinner. He will be joining us for the first 20kms of the cycle tomorrow and final logistical plans involving the police escort are discussed. Theresa, Jenny and Steph provide us with a hearty supper of pea soup and pasta with chicken. Although we haven't started cycling we all have a healthy appetite with most of us going back for seconds. Shortly after dinner, Fr. Pierre calls us for mass. What strikes me is the curiosity shown by the Turkish boys who have been lounging about the gym. They sit down on a nearby wall, watching the religious ceremony, occasionally whispering something in each others' ears but never disturbing the proceedings.

An early start at 4am is planned for tomorrow. so that by 6am we leave the premises in a convoy, heading towards the Bosphorous bridge where we will start the Challenge. I guess all of us, except for those with previous experience, are a bit apprehensive although not everyone shows it. I am very apprehensive and am not embarrassed to say so. I battle with my nerves, Carolyn who knows me well enough gives me a pep talk which does make me feel better.
Trying to avoid the nasty dent, I give the bike one final check. Oiled chain, well inflated tyres, spare tube and puncture repair kit in bag and enough light for me to be seen and to see. All seems well so I decide to turn in for the night.

Settling down on my mattress, I read the text messages of encouragement I get from my friends. So many people have put their faith in me. I certainly don't want to let them down. My determination is the surest thing I have. Whether my body will be able to keep up with that will be seen.

The start of an adventure

As I am being driven to the airport, I cannot believe that the day we have been waiting and training for, for so long, has arrived. The amount of butterflies that are flapping their wings in my stomach is incredible. I almost feel nauseated. This is the real thing!

At the unearthly hour of 3:30am I am one of the first to arrive. Shirley is giving instructions to the early birds. Nigel is all over the place attempting to check in his bike.

Carefully, strategically placing a number of FRAGILE stickers onto my bicycle bag, I urge the half asleep baggage handler to take care of my bike, stressing that if anything happened to my bike Lifecycle would be over before it started, for me. I know full well that my pleas are falling onto deaf ears but I try anyway.

Soon fellow cyclists and members of the backup team start to trickle in, accompanied by family, friends and huge boxes containing their bikes. It was very heartwarming to see ex-Lifecyclists - Joe Cassano, Stephen Banavage, Karen Zammit, Lawrence Bellizzi, Joe Buttigieg, just to mention a few, braving the early hours of a weekday morning to make the trip to the airport to wish us luck and give us a good send off.

It is time to go through Security. Grinning and winking at me Robert reminds me of the yummy almond cake Jesmond had bought for the team the previous Sunday and which unsurprisingly ended up in Robert’s bag. Looking innocent he passes through security, hoping at the same time that the cake is not detected and confiscated. Luckily it isn't and Robert grins all the way to the departure gate.

The flight, which is made up mostly of our group, is uneventful. Although we are all excited and wide awake, most of us attempt to grab forty winks. A long day awaits us and probably none of us have slept before coming to the airport.

Passport control is a long drawn affair. A group of thirty five people waiting to have their passports stamped and given a visa is definitely not a quick exercise, and it seems that the Turkish customs officers had an issue with the British passports making the process take even longer. Trying to keep the noise down, seeing that we are in a 'sensitive' area, some of us engage in some serious banter, whilst others just plonk themselves on the floor waiting for their passports to arrive. Whilst we are waiting we are greeted by Soner, who has been in Turkey since the previous Sunday and by the Maltese consul Simon Pullicino, who has been instrumental in the organisation of the event within Turkish territory.

Thirty minutes later we are given our passports and proceed to get our luggage, setting my mind at rest that all luggages have arrived. At the arrivals lounge we are greeted by loud cheers from Therese, Liz and Carolina. Soner introduces us to Hulya – a Turkish friend of his who will be joining us on the trip helping the backup team and acting as an interpreter where necessary. Cyclists, backup team, luggage, bicycles and all safely packed on the bus we are taken to the gym, on the outskirts of Istanbul, which would be our base for the next two days prior to the start of Lifecycle. Ditching our stuff, and a quick scramble to change into more comfortable clothes we then board the bus again to go on a sightseeing tour of Istanbul. Stopping at Sultanahmet we stop for lunch at a small place recommended by Liz. A vast array of mouthwatering dishes, most of them high in carbs, tempted our palate making it difficult for us to choose.

After lunch we are taken to visit they key sights in Istanbul – the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofia. It is a nostalgic trip for me having visited Istanbul seven years ago whilst attending the JCI European Conference in my capacity as National President of JCI Malta. Nevertheless I go back in, and like the rest of us wearing shorts, don a makeshift skirt to cover my ‘indecently’ exposed legs.

Unfortunately to none too pleasant smell of feet deterred me from extending my stay further, making a quick exit into the fresh air and taking the opportunity to take a few shots for my album.

I decide to skip the Aya Sofia museum, as fatigue is setting in and decide to spend some time in the lush gardens of the Topkapi palace. Most of us dump ourselves on the green grass just past the entrance. In the background a guard blows his whistle, a warning sign to people attempting to enter a forbidden area. Hearing the whistle a couple of times, Mario jokingly suggests that we shout goal the next time it is heard. A few seconds later his suggestion is taken up by all and we get a semi-amused look by the guard. The second time round the guard is less amused and shows us the red card by telling us to move away.

Reluctantly we stand up and walk towards the museum, where some of us are enticed the see the famed jewel collection, me included. I do regret this decision as the clammy heat is making me even sleepier and returning to find most of the others fast asleep on the grass I think that option would have been a better idea.

Time really flies, and Soner starts directing us towards the bus. It is soon time to catch the ferry to Buyuk an island on the Bosphorous. We are lucky to enjoy a fantastic sunset and by the time we get to the island it is dark. The island is very pretty albeit crowded. It reminds me of Main Street USA in Disneyland Paris, although once off the main street, one gets more of a Turkish flavour with shishas and other souvenirs displayed in most of the shops lining the streets. An amazing display of fruit and vegetable stalls are a mouthwatering sight and the warm greeting of a friendly dog is the cherry on the cake!

Dinner is a fun affair. Soner presents Alan with a mechanically operated bicycle and a belly dancer doll – seeing that Alan had been hankering after a belly dancer ever since our first meeting this presentation is greeted with a lot of laughs and a big smile on Alan’s face.

Back on the boat, most of us scramble to get an empty bench so that we can sleep. Thankfully I manage to sleep all throughout the hour long trip, only to be rudely awakened by Liz urging me to get off the boat and onto the bus. Back at the gym, laughter, noise and activity take long before we settle down for the night.

Lying down on my new inflatable mattress I find it hard to sleep now, partly due to the symphony of snores that is going on around me and partly due to the excitement and anticipation of the coming days. Many thoughts rush through my head - some positive, others negative. I don't want to let the people, who have shown faith in me and supported me, down but not completing such a gruelling challenge is a possibility I have to face. I decide I will take my friends' advice and tackle the Challenge checkpoint by checkpoint. There is no point in thinking of the whole long road ahead at this stage.

Let's just get the show on the road and let's get started.

All photos, except Sunset on Bosphorus and Dog, courtesy of Ray Pace

The time has come

In less than forty eight hours, we will be on our way to Istanbul, ready to start this year’s Lifecycle Challenge. Our luggage is nearly packed, bikes dismantled and securely stored in boxes. All set to go. Except that I have a heavy heart. Somehow, not making it to the finish, on two wheels, has lost its importance.

In less than a week I have lost two friends – Cliff, in a tragic hit and run accident whilst training for Lifecycle, and Jenny, who passed away this morning, whilst riding her beloved mare. Two friends, who practiced and loved the same sport as I do.

I was half way through writing my weekly blog post, which was never published, when I got the tragic news of fellow Lifecyclist Cliff Micallef’s passing last Thursday. Ironically I had just finished a paragraph where I was describing how Cliff was helping me up Nadur hill, after having cycled up the very same hill a couple of times in the sweltering heat.

Cliff was one of the best cyclists in the group but he did not mind staying with us, the less experienced cyclists to give us a helping hand – either by literally pushing us up a hill or giving us tips on how to make use of the best possible cycling techniques. Our trip to Gozo seems so far away. Another dimension.

Jenny, on the other hand had just returned from her holidays. This morning as I left the stables, I saw her car. Her lesson was just after mine, I was in a rush so I did not have time to stop and chat and get an update on her holiday. I got to know Jenny through my love of equestrian sports. She was very involved in the sport, not only by practicing dressage and show jumping but was always very hands on during competitions and events. I remember how she had accompanied me in the ambulance to hospital when I fell off my horse during a jumping lesson back in January. Her concern did not stop there, as she had taken an interest in my recovery, encouraging me to get back on the saddle and slowly build up my confidence again.

Obviously giving up on Lifecycle is not an option but it is very difficult for me to focus at the moment. But as my friend Chris said, letting my self roam in unproductive moods or losing drive and focus in a Challenge of this kind, will only help endanger myself and my fellow team members. What’s more, the already concerned people around me will only agonise more whilst I am away.

I am sure that Jenny and Cliff would not want that out of me. I just need to try to let my mind return unhindered to the Challenge, visualizing the route to hopefully successfully complete the challenge successfully.

In the past 17 weeks, I have cycled over 2445 kilometres in 120 hours but my efforts have also seen me raise around €6,500 in funds. I should now be ready to go.

This will be my last blog post for the next two weeks but promise to return in two weeks time, to continue the last chapter of my Lifecycle experience.

For Cliff and Jenny