The Road to Damascus

Good Night and Thank You

2009-11-01T22:06:00.000-08:00

"This is to certify that Maria Vella-Galea has successfully completed a 2000km cycle trip from Istanbul to Damascus"

Reading these words on the certificate during the Lifecycle Welcome Back party, the success of this event starts to sink slowly in. Over two months have passed since our return from Lifecycle. We all made it home safe and sound and I couldn't wait to get on my bike again.

Ever since I signed up for this year's Challenge, my life has revolved practically around it, such was my commitment towards it. The months preparing for the event, and the actual Challenge itself, have passed in a blur and now my life has reverted back to normal, whatever normal might be.

Whilst cycling through the roads of Turkey and Syria, I had already started to draft this final chapter as irrespective of whether I completed the whole Challenge or not, there were a number of people that I really felt the need to thank publicly.

So here goes.........

Medical Team - Carolyn Bonello, Stephanie Dalli, Francesca Fonk

Thank you for all your patience, dedication and attention. I certainly did get a lot of attention from you guys, and you helped make it possible for me to continue when my injuries could have potentially forced me to stop!

Kitchen Team - Theresa Azzopardi, Jennifer Chetcuti, Stephanie Galea

At the end of a gruelling day, it was great to know that a lovely warm meal, with loads of second and third helpings were always waiting for us. Your cheers of encouragement as we cycled into the accomodation each evening, irrespective of the hour, was an extra bonus, that we always looked forward to!

Photography - Ray Pace

Ray, your photos and documentary will provide us with an everlasting memory of this adventure but it is not just the photos that I will remember you for but also for your quiet encouragement which was a great source of support especially when the going was getting very tough.

Backup - Liz Ambrogio, Ray 'Space' Calleja, Stephanie Caruana, Shirley Cefai, Soner Gurelli, Edward Mercieca, Mario Scerri, Hulya Tosun

Liz - our bionic woman, Swiss army precision (as Alan put it in one of his briefings), you made sure our stuff got from A to B safely, amongst other things that we are probably not aware of!.

Edward, it was such a joy to reach a check point and find you there with your larger than life personality, big smile and laughter. And we were never more happier to see you than when you came to our accomodation in Damascus safe and sound after you little adventure with the Syrian army.

Mario, you never said much but just one particular look from you and I'd push harder to get the next check point.

Ray Space - always running around to ensure that our chains were well oiled (I didn't have the need to oil my chain since then :)), checking our tyres for the right pressure. Sometimes you gave a quiet word of encouragement which was always welcome.

Shirley - didn't see much of you as you were always in the front vehicle, but we know that you contributed alot towards this event.

Hulya - Muglu Guglu!!! Always ready to give a helping hand with a smile. A hug when needed. Your commitment and support towards our well being was amazing. I miss you!

Stephanie - our guiding light, setting up of signs on the road meant that you were one of the first to leave the accomodation in the morning, so we didn't see much of you, but the little we saw enabled us to get some great encouragement and morale support

Soner - when tackling a tough hill you always came to mind. Perhaps not always in a friendly way, but nevertheless, it was always nice to see your smile when you clocked us in at the end of the day!

Organiser, Chairperson, Task master etc. - Alan Curry

Alan - Yes there were times when most of us felt like strangling you but never was a time when I lost our respect towards you. Organising Lifecycle is no mean feat. Having to deal with so many different characters in difficult surroundings is not an enviable position. There are things that we might not see eye to eye on but I still thank you for giving me the opportunity to participate in something so special as is Lifecycle.

The ones with us in spirit..John Cassar, Cliff Micallef

John, I can imagine how hard it was for you to be left behind because of an injury that was far from your fault. Watching us train, as we prepared for the journey, your support, enthusiasm and encouragment never faltered. Your support towards the team and positive attitude were an inspiration.

Cliff , no words can explain the void you left in our team. I didn't have to know you for a long time for you to have an effect on me. I still have your mobile number stored in my phone as a memory of the good times we shared whilst training.

Cyclists - Robert Zammit, Jesmond Desira, Simon J. Camilleri, Anthony Vella, Luke Marshall, Lenny Degiorgio, Nicholas Valenzia, Paul Cave, Maria Muscat, Pierre Spiteri, Nicholas Calleja, William Saliba, Ian Chaytor, Nigel Micallef, Julian Curmi, Carolina Merino Wells.

It was an honour for me to be in the Lifecycle Challenge with you. Cycling together, battling killer hills, fierce winds and intense heat to reach Damascus together. Your enthusiasm, dedication and teamwork was inspiring.

Jesmond, thank you for your encouragement and pacing which definitely helped me make it to the finish successfully. You certainly deserve the Award you were given.

Saving the best for last a HUGE THANK YOU goes to my cycling buddy Robert Zammit. Without you I would not have completed Lifecycle. We started this together and finished it together. Your sense of teamwork is outstanding. Ready to risk your timings to help me and others, even though people urged you to think about yourself you have really shown what teamwork and friendship is all about. I am proud to have cycled with you buddy!

Final word of thanks goes to my loved ones, friends, family, colleagues and sponsors who supported me throughout this adventure.

Good night and thank you!

Day 11 - Homs to Damascus

2009-11-01T09:59:00.000-08:00

I always had serious doubts as to whether I would make it to the last day and final checkpoint on the bike and not in the back of a van but here I was in Homs, packing my bags and checking out my bicycle for the last time to make sure it is ready for the last 150kilometres of this challenge.

Final briefing from Alan, blessing from Fr. Pierre and pep talk from Carolyn and Paul before we leave en masse towards Damascus. Ian is feeling better today so he decides to cycle, whilst Lenny is not feeling at all good but still he starts off with us. The road today promises to be pretty straight forward, with some good down hills towards the end, although there is quite a long stretch of desert which will make it tougher in terms of heat intensity.

Our first checkpoint is in the middle of a desert. An open space where a street hawker set-up shop selling luke warm drinks. Further up a small shack provides a bit of privacy for the brave to make use of the hole found inside. Cold water is running out fast, as one by one parched cyclists descend on the backup team like vultures attacking their prey. The backup team promise us they will be driving along the way to provide us with a constant supply of cold water as much as possible.

Somewhere in between Checkpoint 1 and 2 we cycle past a Lifecycle van only to see a commotion of sorts. Slowing down see Ray, our photographer, sitting on the ground, broken camera by his side, and Stephanie holding a bag of ice on his head. Concerned we slow down but Mario urges us to continue. Half-heartedly we continue, hoping for the best but we can't help but wonder what happened. It later transpired that Willie, accidentally cycled straight into Ray, knocking him down on the ground, breaking his camera and injuring his head in the process.

The impact

With Ray in our thoughts we also have to battle the unbearable and stifling heat. Continuing on our route, the backup follow us in their vehicles, providing us with cold water as we cycle through the never ending desert route. Their presence is a godsend as it is not just a matter of providing us with cold water, but also providing us with support and encouragement to face the final few kilometres.

The saying goes “it never rains but it pours”.At the second checkpoint we are hit by another drama. Clocking in the second checkpoint, just beside a typical Syrian restaurant we find a very worried Edward surrounded by very formal looking Syrians who seem to be questioning him about something. Mario soon joins in the discussion. We find out through Carolyn, that some pictures, taken by her with Edward's camera included a red unmarked pick-up truck in the back ground. The soldiers instructed Edward to wait a couple of minutes until they showed the photo to their commanding officer. In the meantime we take the opportunity to have lunch and try to wait for the outcome of this interrogation. What is clear is that if Edward is accused of spying, this could have serious repercussions especially in a country whose conventions are not similar to those we are used. to. Mario, Hulya and Edward are still with the police when it is time for us to leave. Not wanting to leave without knowing what is happening we are urged to continue, with Mario reassuring us that we will get the necessary backup we need till the situation is solved. In the meantime we also learn that Lenny had to stop and was continuing part of the journey in an ambulance the gastric problems weakening him so much that he could barely stand up. Again more upsetting news about our friends. There was not much we could do except do our best to reach Damascus safely hoping that all our friends would be there waiting for us.

Because Mario is caught up trying to avoid Edward going to jail, we do not have water supplies readily available and this part of the road is just desert so it is not a case of stopping in one of the shacks we were encountering in the previous roads and buying water. Cycling in the relentless sun, we had to make sure that our water supplies lasted until the third checkpoint, but with temperatures reaching 46 degrees, controlling our thirst a major task. Reaching the third checkpoint, there was no need to ask for water as it was handed to us automatically, our first question was to ask about Edward. Alan had no news except that he was being taken to a military camp and being held there. Mario was sent away, leaving Edward at the mercy of the Syrian authorities. Calls were being made to the Maltese consul but such incidents took time to be dealt with. Alan reassured us that all that was possible was being made to get Edward back into our fold and like Mario before him urged us to continue cycling. Wetting my bandanna with ice cold water, I leave the checkpoint only to realise shortly after that I left my helmet behind. Fully aware of the chaotic driving I would be experiencing in Damascus, I still had no intention of turning back especially since I was enjoying a nice steep downhill. I just prayed for the best. Reaching speeds of 60kms per hour, the distance to Damascus kept on reducing. It is only at this point that I am actually thinking there is a possibility of me completing Lifecycle successfully. The last ten kilometres were the longest of the whole trip. I was on the look out for the final checkpoint signs whilst trying to survive the chaotic driving on the dusty and filthy roads.

Reaching the final checkpoint, I am clocked in by Soner and greeted with large cheers from the cyclists who had already arrived and the rest of the back up team. Poignantly, Cliff's poster was there, welcoming us to the final chapter of this challenge. Exhausted, I am quickly taken into an air-conditioned car to cool down, protected from the strong afternoon sun. Gulping down a bottle of one litre bottle,I don't even know where I left my bike but I don't really care. I am happy not to see my bike for a while after this.

Exhausted but happy

Robert and Nicholas arrive shortly after me, and that is when I start phoning my loved ones and texting my friends and colleagues advising them that I have successfully completed Lifecycle. I am still in a daze as the remaining cyclists clock in.

Texting home

There is still no news of Edward, and that marred the fun as we were all hoping that he would be there to cheer us as we reached Damascus. This was not to be though. Negotiations for his release were still taking place.

We still have the final bit to cycle to our accommodation. All vehicles having reached the final checkpoint we are escorted into Damascus. With the backup team blaring their car's horns in triumphant mode, and cyclists pummelling the air with clenched fists we slowly cycle into the busy streets of Damascus' city centre. Our triumphant entry is not a common occurrence and we are greeting with a number of curious and bemused looks. We don't care. We are happy to have completed this adventure.

The fat lady has indeed stopped singing!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace & Stephanie Caruana

Day 10 - Aleppo to Homs

2009-10-29T12:23:00.000-07:00

Only two days are left but as the saying goes “it ain't over till the fat lady sings”.

Whilst Alan is giving his standard briefing and Fr. Pierre gives us his blessing, Mario and the rest of the drivers sort out the vehicles, branding them with Lifecycle stickers, making them recognisable for us when on the road.

Prior to leaving we all have one last look around to ensure we left nothing behind and off we go. I am quite relieved to see that we will be escorted by a police vehicle on our way out of Aleppo. I have never experienced such crazy driving as I did in Aleppo - not even in Malta! As we go along, traffic police salute us as we go by. It is very apparent that they are not used to seeing a bunch of cyclist riding en masse, battling the chaotic traffic they are entrusted to control.

Briefly stopping to get one final briefing before taking on the road, Alan reminds us of our timings. We are raring to go. The sooner we start the closer we will get to Damascus. Jesmond teams up with Robert and myself and together we pick up a good pace.

The road promises to be boring today, as we are cycling on the highway leading to Homs from Aleppo. Picking up an average speed of 23 kilometres per hour, we soon find ourselves at the first checkpoint where we are greeted by an amazed Alan and Shirley. The hot weather does not entice me to eat the staple fare, especially flapjacks – which we realise have expired and have become impossible to chew. Nevertheless with a lot of effort I manage to eat one and drink a litre bottle of cold water in the process. Filling up our bottles, which I know will become hot in a few minutes, we proceed.

Till now, I am feeling great. My knees and ankle are miraculously not giving any signs of bother, so much so that I actually removed all strapping and bandages and am feeling strong . As the day progresses into the afternoon, the driving becomes more chaotic. Cycling through the traffic becomes a slalom course. Although we are keeping to the side of the highway, we encounter traffic going in the opposite direction on our 'lane'. What a difference when compared to the respect shown by Turkish drivers.

No need for strapping!

A close shave that could have had tragic consequences was a result of such driving from Syrian motorists. Cycling next to each other on the side of the road, we suddenly we find a motorcyclist driving straight into Robert's direction. Immediately I shout to grab Robert's attention. Just in the nick of time, as Robert manages to avoid the motorcyclist. All of us instinctively swerve to the left, a chain reaction we had no other alternative to. Jes, being on the edge of the hard shoulder swerved onto the motorway. Seeing his sudden movement, I thought he would be hit by one of the speeding cars. I closed my eyes.. Thankfully Jes managed to edge back in but was left in complete shock, like the rest of us. The usually relaxed Jes had to stop to catch his breath. I shudder to think what the consequences could have been that day. It certainly was an eye opening making us realise how extra careful we must be on these roads.

Reaching Checkpoint 3 we are in for a treat – Ice! Perfect to put on our aching joints and perfect to cool us down. With temperatures reaching approximately 43 degrees, I decided to cool down by putting some cubes in my cycling top. The heat would not make them last long, but for those few minutes it would be bliss.

Syrian roads are dotted with President's Assad smiling face

The roads in Syria, compared to those of Turkey, are a case of you win some, you lose some. Whilst the driving is chaotic and dangerous, the tarmac resembles more the kind of tarmac we are used to, minus the potholes, so it makes cycling a bit easier. Being relatively flat roads, I am able to keep up with Jesmond's pace. The only incline is around Amanos but it is nothing compared to the hill we had in Belen or in the early days.

The heat is unbearable and Robert and I stop a couple of times to buy water, half of which is poured on our heads, soaking our bandanna in the hope of getting a couple of minutes respite. The rest of the water is gulped down in a few seconds. Because the heat is so intense I am not managing to eat enough and thus my energy supplies are low. I eat sweets in an attempt to get my sugar levels stable but it doesn't seem enough and I start slowing down.

Reaching the next checkpoint I have the luxury of sitting in an air-conditioned van, while Fran massages my ankle, which till now has not yet played up. The heat has really clammed up my stomach and I really can't bring myself to eat even though I need to give myself some sort of energy source. Alan comes to the rescue with a concoction called Muscle Juice – the name is enough to churn my stomach but the powder mixed with cold water actually tastes like a hazelnut milkshake. Just before leaving, Paul wets my bandanna with ice cold water which provides such a relief in the sweltering heat. Alan, tells us, before we set off, that we are only around 20kms away from the accommodation We should soon be home.

A welcome physio break

He was wrong. With my GPS showing that we had already covered 30kms we start to get worried. In the meantime Jesmond catches up with us again. We start to get concerned and Soner's previous warnings not to take the road to Baghdad comes to haunt us. In reality we haven't seen the signs yet so hoping for the best we keep on cycling along the straight road. 5 kilometres later we see the signs – Baghdad, Lebanon. Hurray we are on the right track. We are only a few kilometres away from a country that was the cradle of civilisation now a war torn country. The road signs provide us with an amazing surge of energy – fuelled by the prospect of a warm shower and hot tasty meal.

In a few moments we see Soner waiting for us. Clocking us in he is surprised to see us. We are the first to arrive and he is visibly impressed. We have definitely gained on our time! Our enthusiasm at arriving first quickly fades when we see the state of the accommodation, which is an inter-faith retreat place. We are instructed not to speak to the residents and try to keep the noise levels as low as possible since they are in prayer. The sleeping areas are made up of tents and gypsy caravans. Both are quite dirty and flee ridden. The showers, although having warm water, are dirty so having a shower requires a balancing act. I decide to sleep in the truck, so I dump my sleeping stuff nearby.

Kitchen facilities are pre-historic, and I find a very frustrated kitchen team trying to prepare supper. Although cooking in such a situation is a nightmare for them they still whip up an excellent plate of pasta which sends us asking for second helpings! We also have fresh bread, which saw them almost crossing into Lebanon to buy!

An hour after we arrived, other cyclists start to trickle in. It is now dark when Nicholas, Lenny and Luke phone to say they are close to the Lebanese border and lost. They are tired and by the time they reach the accommodation, Lenny is not feeling well and they are not the happiest of bunnies. Julian and Simon are also late in arriving, with Julian still suffering from acute stomach cramps. One has to admire the tenacity of such cyclists who don't give up even when they are feeling unwell. However, sometimes illness strikes and there is no option but to stop. That's what happened to Ian who was suffering from acute gastric problems that not even an injection from Steph managed to control. Very upsetting when one considers all the effort carried out throughout the challenge.

Although the facilities are basic the atmosphere in the camp is good and light hearted. The boys start singing and playing the bongos. Liz and I had retired into the truck to sleep but were kept awake with the noise and laughter. Resigned, I took my sleeping bag and collapsed into the musty caravan. I was too tired to think of anything else and I really wanted to have enough energy to carry on with the last day.

As I settle into my sleeping bag I cannot help but think about tomorrow. I visualise the finish line which now is obviously feeling closers than ever. I try to imagine my reaction to reaching the final checkpoint. Will I cry or will I be too shattered to feel anything? My timings are good and unless some catastrophe happens I will be well in time to finish. Having said that I cannot let my guard down.

I have to stay focused for the last 150 kilometres.

Day 9 - Hatay to Aleppo

2009-10-26T11:24:00.001-07:00

Damascus is getting closer. The feeling starts to sink in this morning as Alan, during his daily briefing reminds us to carry our passports with us. He and Fr. Pierre also give us some quick tips on Border protocol – removal of helmet and sunglasses, no animated conversations or loud laughter.

Going through the route card for the day

The border is approximately 60 kilometres away. Escorted for the last time by a police escort we all leave together. There will be no timings until we reach the border but we are urged to cycle as fast as possible, which admittedly is very annoying especially when the order is given from the interior of an air-conditioned van.

Approaching the Syrian border

As we get closer to the Syrian border, the heat levels start to increase drastically. The cold water in my bottle has become warm, good enough to make a cup of tea. The roads are quiet country roads, and we encounter little traffic. As we reach the 30km mark, we stop to get cold water and snacks. A packed lunch has been prepared for us and will be taken at the border whilst our passports will be vetted by border officials.

The approach to the border finds us cycling through a long line of trucks, carrying all sorts of goods. We enjoy this line as it offers us some shade and respite from the strong sun, which is beating strongly on us even though it is still mid morning. I shudder to think of what is in store for us in the afternoon hours.

Turkish - Syrian Border

Leaving Turkey is a sombre affair. Our passports are stamped as we exit in a group. Past the border into no man's land we cycle for a few kilometres through dry, barren and unwelcoming landscapes. A few cars drive slowly past us.

No Man's Land

A few moments later we reach the Syrian border. Soner takes our passports and advises us that this procedure might take long. We settle down in an sheltered open area where an influx of cars, buses and truck pass at a steady pace after having passed a thorough inspection process. A sign “Welcome to Assad's Syria” greets us. Obeying Alan's instructions we sit down and eat our snacks. Francesca decides to carry out some physio much to the disgust of the male Arab travellers. They are shocked to see a woman, although modestly dressed, touching a male's thighs in public.

The people I love were only a message away!

During our three hour wait, Alan informs me that my timings have improved considerably but he wants to help us so he will organise the cyclist groups in such a way that the faster cyclists like Jesmond, Pierre and Willie will ride with us so that they can set the pace for us. Shortly after our passports are returned to us, and we can continue on our journey. Alan reminds us that Syria should be flatter than Turkey so hopefully we will get a bit of respite.

Jesmond, teams up with me and Robert and we set off at Jesmond's pace. The roads are mainly flat although there are some undulations with some steep inclines. I find it quite a task to keep up with Jesmond. Looking at my GPS I find that I am keeping an average speed of 22kilometres an hour. The heat is becoming unbearable and although my water bottles are full the water is almost boiling making it unfit for drinking. My heart rate is rising, whereas normally it averages 112 beats per minute, here it was reaching 150 beats. Thankfully we soon have a water stop and end up pouring water on my head to cool down. I can't wait for the next checkpoint.

Jesmond picks up the pace again, so fast that I can barely keep up with him. Turning round to keep an eye on my progress he encourages me, slowing down a bit. The heat is immense and I am parched. My water bottle is already empty. I have no Syrian money so we cannot stop to buy drinks. Thankfully, after about 20 minutes, although they did seem like an eternity, we see the backup truck and the welcome “Checkpoint” sign. Paul greets me with his trademark smile. What happened next is a blur as all I remember is telling him to hold the bike. Then I faint falling down in the middle of the road. Thankfully Robert is near by and manages to break my fall. Soner carries me to a nearby bench. I remember a flurry of activity and voices. I could hear Nicholas, from a distance, urging them to give me Diarolyte and Jesmond giving me a foul tasting drink, whilst someone else is calling on Steph the doctor to come quickly. Someone wets my bandanna with cold water and puts it over my head whilst someone holds my legs up so that the blood starts flowing properly. I feel Steph putting on a cuff, inflating it and monitoring my blood pressure. The heat has caused it to go down hence the fainting fit. I feel so embarrassed by all this and try to wave off the attention it has generated. I ask for my bike so that I can continue to go to the next checkpoint but Alan tells me that this was the final one and that I could ride into Aleppo in one of the backup vans. It seems that I have gained quite a lot of time today, even though I felt as if I was going to kill myself in the process. AT least I can sleep a bit easier tonight even though it's far from over.!

Going to our accommodation we drive to some of the main stress in Aleppo. The driving is chaotic and treacherous. Drivers, completely ignore traffic warden instructions even though they are frantically waving their hands and blowing their whistles forcefully. Driving is a matter of “survival of the fittest” it seems. More like a dodgems fun park scenario than a historical city. Having a police escort helps although it seems that drivers have little regard for authority when it comes to driving. Shirley, who is travelling in the same backup vehicle as I am closes her eyes. She cannot bear to look at what the cyclists are driving through.

Our accommodation in Aleppo is a Jesuit residence which also serves as a school. Therese and her team quickly settle down and start preparing dinner, whilst the rest of us prepare our beds for the night. Quickly realising that there are only two showers to cater for all of I, I sneak into the first shower just before the mob realises and attacks!

Shower ready. Lenny asks me to join him, Luke, Will and Robert to go to the city to exchange money and have a quick drink. We advise Ray and Steph, that we would be going out for a while and we find a lift from one of the residents who takes us into the city and stops us on the main road just in front of a Bureau de Change. Exchanging some Turkish Lira into Syrian pounds, we set off to find a decent looking cafe. My attire, although relatively modest is not modest enough it seems as I get a few disapproving glances from passers by – male and female. I guess a female accompanied by four males is not exactly the norm in this country. Sitting down, on comfortable armchairs we tuck into some Middle Eastern fare – tabbouleh, fattoush, hoummous and pitta bread. I am careful not to eat raw vegetables as I have had a lot of warnings about the effects these could have. The food is a welcome change from the usual pasta which although is excellent and plentiful it gets a bit too much at times.

Time to head back. We look out for a taxi. I see a little taxi dropping off a whole family – I swear about ten people came out of the little vehicle. Packing ourselves into the taxi, Robert sits in front striking a conversation with the driver, while I squeeze in the back with Lenny, Luke and Willie. What a laugh, the driver was extremely friendly and very amused to see us all laughing our heads off. Getting to our accommodation we tip him generously and he is very pleased to pose for photos with us.

Back at the accommodation I am in time for Mass. Part of our daily routine, that I must admit I look forward to. I might not always follow what Fr. Pierre says but that half an hour gives me time to take stock of the day's events and say a little prayer for all involved and for all those who will benefit from our efforts.

Day 8 - Kozan to Hatay

2009-10-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

As I walk to the breakfast area in a zombified state after having slept for just three hours, I am greeted by Fr. Pierre who wishes me a happy feast - 15th August. I have forgotten which day of the week or date of the month. All I am focusing on are the days left till we get to Damascus, and I am sure I am not the only one.

Tonight, we will be sleeping in the last Turkish accommodation in the Hatay, which extends like a stumpy finger into Syria. An Arab enclave it has closer cultural links to the Arab world that with the Turkish hinterland. In fact these links go back to the seventh century AD, when Arab raiders began hacking at the edges of the collapsing Byzantine Empire.

Cycling over 200 kilometres, tackling a 13kilometre hill with inclines of 11% – 15% coupled with the lack of sleep from last night's adventure will not give anyone points for guessing that this will be yet another difficult day. Alan warns us to check out for any signs of tampering on the route signs, even though we have our route planned today, we do not want a repeat performance of yesterday's adventure.

The first 40 kilometres are fairly straight forward, with long straight roads that enable us to reach average speeds of 24km per hour. Lenny and Nicholas' attempt to draft to closely with each other ends up with Lenny having a close encounter with the tarmac, resulting in bruising and scratches and a hole in his helmet.

The first checkpoint is reached within an hour and a half from departure. Having our usual fare of jacket potatoes, bananas, Powerade and flap jacks I sit down for a couple of minutes and mull over the last few days. Everything seems to have passed in a blur. I look at the cyclists and backup around me having a laugh – of course that is very easy when Edward is around. I envy their carefree attitude, something I wish I had more of especially in these challenges. I am not saying that I am not enjoying the whole experience but for me failure is not an option. This self inflicted stress is not conducive to a carefree attitude and as much as I try to keep positive the pain in my ankle does not help. My thoughts are stopped when Carolyn comes up to me armed with biofreeze and bandages. Massaging my ankle and offering words of encouragement, I feel better. The fact that there are quite a few people out there who want me to succeed is heart-warming and gives me the push I need to carry on.

Our directions lead us to Iskenderun, which was founded by Alexander the Great to commemorate his victory over the Persians. Iskenderun became the main port for Aleppo from where trade routes fanned out to Persia and the Arabian peninsula. Cycling along the seaport we encounter the busiest main roads and chaotic driving so far. We do get some doubts as to whether we are on the right track due to lack of signs, so with each sign we saw Rob and I gave a sigh of relief.

The road south east from Iskenderun rises up in to the mountains, passing through the small hill-town of Belen. The road strains and curves through the Belen pass, which was of great strategic importance during Roman times.

Just before we start tackling the long 13 kilometre hill, we have a checkpoint. My ankle is now swollen again, and giving me a lot of grief. I ask Steph for a jab but to my dismay, she cannot find the vials in her bag, which got slightly disorganised when most of it's contents fell onto the van's floor. Not wanting to waste too much time, I take two Panadols and move off, agreeing with Steph that we would meet on the way and get a jab there.

Nigel, Lenny and Luke catchup with us and we start tackling the hill. Luke, seems to have found a surge of energy and disappears up the hill, whilst we remain cycling at a constant speed, trying to avoid a number of crazy drivers who give us strange looks. Well I guess, it is a tad crazy to cycle up such a hill so you cannot blame them for looking at us as if we were little green men on flying saucers.

Checkpoint Four offers us an amazing view. Whilst the others stop to take photos, Steph sticks a needle into my left butt cheek. Most welcome as I almost have to hop on one leg, the pain has become so intense. As a reward for being a brave girl, Hulya offers me some Turkish sweets made out of filo pastry, pistachios and honey. A good surge of energy!

The 15kilometre downhill following the steep hill up to Belen is welcome, and the boys, soon disappear amidst their shouts. The wind coming from the valley is so strong that I have to fight to keep straight. As I get to the bottom of the hill, I find Nigel, Robert and Lenny waiting for me. Since we have a flat road, and the winds are picking up speed we draft, but the wind coming from the side makes it almost impossible. We attempt to double draft, forming two lines side by side, however we never really practiced this technique, which ideally requires at least six cyclists. However it does give some respite.

As darkness falls we still have about 25 kilometres to go. We are all dead tired and most of us are in a foul mood, especially when we get to a junction with signs indicating a left turn to get to Hatay but no Lifecycle signs in the vicinity. Lenny flips. He phones Soner to ask for directions, the stress and exhaustion clearly showing in his responses. Soner tells us to keep on going straight and to follow the signs.

Lenny cycles determinedly at a pace that I cannot keep up with, and eventually cycles off leaving Robert, Nigel and myself to keep each other company. I am worried even because his back light is not working and the roads are not very well lit. There is nothing to do except keep on cycling, drafting trying to help each other. We finally make it to the stadium, relieved to find the backup team and other cyclists there waiting for us. Soner takes my bike and advises me that we have done good timings. We are happy to see that Lenny has arrived safely as well, although Nicholas, Tony, Simon and Julian are still behind us. Whilst Nicholas and Tony arrive shortly after us, Julian and Simon are still far behind, both of them not in the best of health but are being closely monitored by Steph the doctor.

Since, upon arrival, food is ready, I sit down to eat a hearty supper of pasta. Therese and her team work magic in the limited space and resources they have, combining proteins, carbs and enough quantities to give us the right amount of fuel into our systems. Second and third helpings are normal occurrences and Therese is concerned when we don't ask for more! - That rarely happens in reality.

Almost everything in Lifecycle becomes an automatic ritual. Preparing my belongings and bed for the night, charging my phone and GPS, sorting out my gear for the next day. Having done all that I proceed to my next ritual – physiotherapy. Removing the strapping my from my knees is a painful process even because the day before I inadvertently removed a small layer of skin, which has left an open wound on my thigh. Massaging my thighs, knees and ankle is a painful yet soothing process, that keeps us going from day to day.

Exhausted, I prepare to go to bed but not before having gobbled a pistachio ice cream that Lenny bought me after a quick visit to a store across the road! Walking into the gym shortly after my treat, I am greeted by the sounds of varying symphonies emanating from various crevices of already sleeping bodies.

Carolina and I have one quick look at each other, silently grab our inflatable mattresses and seek refuge in an unused shower, closing the door and shutting out all unpleasant and unwelcome sounds. Our usual banter is reduced to a quick good night.

We are both closer to Damascus.

Day 7 - Avanos to Kozan

2009-10-25T03:30:00.000-07:00

The route card only gave directions for the first 15.5kms, showing us the way out of Avanos and Urgup. The rest would be announced later. We were warned that the total day distance would be around 240km so it would be a very challenging day. Alan advises us to watch out for the Lifecycle Route signs since it was not possible to trace the route during the pre-visit. Alan explains that there were two route choices, the one chosen during the pre-visit was dangerous and definitely not an option so the other route had to be taken but due to time constraints it was not possible to trace it on a route card. I am still upset about the time lost in the previous day due to the multitude of punctures, but there is no use crying over split milk. I just have to do my best to keep up the rhythm and increase my pace.

As we leave the accommodation we head towards Goreme taking the highway. In the distance we could see numerous hot air balloons manoeuvring their way, through the early morning mist, over the treetops and fairy chimneys. I felt a pang of jealousy. The people enjoying this scenic flight were on holiday relaxing. Focusing on the straight road ahead we arrive in Goreme. In the early hours of the morning it seemed less chaotic than it was in the afternoon the day before.

Early in the day, with our leg muscles barely warmed up we are faced with a killer winding road that takes us up to Urgup. The inclines, registered on my GPS, go up to 18%. I feel my leg muscles working on overdrive, almost bursting with the sheer exertion. In front of me Nigel is asking, in a loud voice, why is he doing this. I guess most of us had that feeling as we toil up the long, winding road.

My ankle starts to bother me from the start of the day. The undulating roads are not helping at all. Following the signs, our eyes open to make sure we don't miss any, my ankle becomes increasingly swollen, ever pedal movement pure torture. I do not want to stop and waste time but I cannot keep on going. Robert phones Steph and asks her to come and check my ankle. In the meantime, he gently removes my shoe and starts massaging my ankle which has become the size of a tennis ball. I cannot put any weight on it, so I cannot really do much. Edward soon drives up, and Carolyn puts on deep freeze and bandages it. Steph is in another car further in front so we have to catch up with her. The boys, who have stayed with me so far, reluctantly leave, with Robert and Tony staying behind to ensure that I don't cycle alone.

Slowly we progress. Each pedal stroke I take is taking me closer to Steph and hopefully some painkillers. The journey, although not long, seems interminable and when finally we catchup with them, I am in tears. Steph explains that my tendons are badly swollen due to the technique I am using to try to avoid the pain in my knees. I forget my aversion to needles and I beg her to give me a painkiller so that I can proceed. She is reluctant, but I remind her that she is a Lifecyclist so she should know how important it is for me to continue. She gives in but warns me that if the inflammation gets worse she will make me stop, without any ifs or buts. My heart sinks as I know this will be the case. I know it is for my own good, as damaging the tendons could mean me giving up horse riding and cycling in future.

Whilst Steph is preparing to give me the painkiller, Space is hovering around. Full of concern towards my wellbeing, he is in the way and is unceremoniously turned away by Steph who asks him to give us some privacy as she gives me a jab in my bottom. I am very upset about it all and I silently pray that this will work and the pain won't increase forcing me to stop short of my target, after months of preparation and sacrifice.

Tony, Robert and I set off again. They are determined not to leave me on my own, especially now that I am at my lowest ebb. The road ahead is tougher than what we have experienced so far. A long, never ending, gravelly, off-road track. A car passes by at full speed ahead, causing gravel to spray all over the place, hitting Robert's arm in the process. A small gash but nonetheless painful and irritating. We keep on going and catchup with Lenny, Luke, Nigel, Nicholas and Ian. We group up, giving moral support to each other especially when we have to tackle a long and cruel hill. To this day I don't know how I managed to keep with the guys, not giving up irrespective of the pain, which although had subsided was still there nagging me all the time. I guess it is the adrenaline working on overdrive.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, we find a treacherous downhill path, which nearly sees Nicholas flying off the road and down the hill. Nonetheless we all enjoy a bit of respite from the cruel hills. Reaching a clearing we sense that something is wrong. We seem to have reached a dead end. An old man suddenly appears from nowhere, shouting, motioning with his hand as though he was shooting at something. Lenny, quickly nicknames him the Hobbit, who seems to take a liking to Nigel. Irrespective of the language barrier they seem to reach an understanding. It is a bit of comic relief for us, but we realise that things are not right. There aren't any signs in sight. The last one we saw indicated the direction we took but the road seems to lead to nowhere. None of us want this to be true as it would mean having to go back up the downhill we so happily flew down.

Nicholas suggests we phone the backup team but we realise that none of us have mobile reception. We are practically cut off from everyone. Robert suggests that we start heading back, the backup van was close by and seeing that they too were following the signs we were follwoing we would be able to meet up with them and get directions.

Following Robert's suggestion we start cycling back, to our relief we see Mario and his team driving by. We all realise that we are all lost, and that Simon and Julian are still somewhere behind us. Frustration starts to set in. It is already getting late and we still have another 80 kilometres to cycle. Perhaps I am the only one that silently, welcomes this break as my ankle is still swollen and the pain killer's effect is slightly waning. I don't know if I can go much further if the pain increases and I know that if it does Steph will definitely make me stop.

In the meantime we are joined by Edward, Carolyn and Steph who immediately proceed to feed us, giving us some fresh cheese and bread they bought on the way. What a treat! Such a refreshing change from bananas and flapjacks. Like piranhas on a feeding frenzy we devoured the sandwiches, leaving only a few crumbs as evidence of their existence.

In the meantime, Mario is attempting to reach Alan, but network coverage is unavailable. Seeing that we cannot do much he decides to take us up to a location where there is network coverage. It is obvious that the signs have been tampered with and since we have no route card showing the way we are all in the same situation – LOST!

Mario decides to start moving us to a better location, one where hopefully we can get network coverage. The situation is tense. Tired cyclists not knowing what will happen. Concerned back up team entrusted with our safety. Mario doesn't have much options. He deposits us on a mountain road, which is the only possible road and heads back to where the bikes were left with Carolyn, Steph, Edward and Space. The latter being responsible to pack the bikes in the other van.

In the meantime, as is expected in mountainous areas, as night starts to fall the temperature lowers. In an attempt to keep warm, all huddle together, keeping in mind that cycling the rest of the kilometres is a posisblilty. During this time we work on a plan of action to ensure that our participation is not cut short because of this adventure. A few cyclists start preparing a not so friendly speech to deliver to Alan whilst others try to keep sprits up by saying jokes and singing songs. We don't know what is going to happen but we all know that we are in for a long night.

As we grow colder, the more our enthusiasm to keep on cycling wanes. Pitch black darkness envelopes us as we wait for the rest of the backup team. Although we are no longer in a valley, we have little signal and although we managed to get through to Shirley the line drops almost immediately, never to be picked up again. I don't know for how long we waited for Mario and Edward to reach us but it felt like forever. By that time the effect of the painkillers had gone completely. For the very first time since this adventure started I actually contemplated of giving up. I had no energy left to cycle more. I was exhausted, cold and hungry.

Freezing up on the mountain

Mario, having managed to get through to Alan, informs us that we are to cycle down the mountain road to where Alan is waiting for us. It seems that we were actually quite close to the final checkpoint. We all resist to these instructions but in reality there is not much we can do. There is no room in the vans to takes us and the bikes and the truck, carrying our luggages, is already miles away in our accommodation It will take much longer if we had to wait for it.

Slowly, we put back our helmets on and start cycling down, Mario driving in front and leading the way whilst Edward, at the back lights up the road with the van's headlamps. Going downhill was not a problem but we soon find another uphill. Gingerly I pedal, each movement giving me spasms of pain in my ankle. I feebly attempt to complain about cycling in these conditions, after having spent hours in the cold, but in reality there is not much we can do. Mario urges me to get into the van. I refuse. First of all I am part of a team and I am not going to go into the van whilst my team mates are walking up the hill and secondly I don't want to risk being kicked off the trip because I stopped cycling. Space rushes next to me, almost begging to take my bike up the hill, stubbornly I proceed. I barely take two steps when I hear a stern voice from behind - “Maria, stop being stupid and get into the van NOW!” Steph's stern voice catches me unaware, and automatically and meekly, I give my bike to Space and get into the van.

I burst out crying. Partly due to exhaustion, partly due to pain and partly due to the stress of the whole day. Mario reassures me that I won't be forced to stop. The circumstances were beyond everyone's control and now the focus is to get everyone safely to the accommodation. Shortly after we catch up with Alan and Shirley. The bikes are removed from the vans once again to be organised in a better manner and stored in such away that we all fit in the vans. I remain in the van, now half asleep having taken an anti-inflammatory pill to ease off the inflammation in my ankle. I hear a commotion outside. It seems that Space is concerned with the safety of a watermelon that has been on the journey with us whilst Mario, quite rightly so, is interested in getting everyone out of that area. But deep down, it did offer some comic relief to all.

Space and the infamous watermelon!

Again I fall asleep so I am not fully aware of what happened. All I know is that we are all squashed, like sardines, in the vans and start heading home. On the way Alan's van has a flat tyre, and although Robert does his utmost to change the wheel the bolts are so tightly screwed that no one is able to unscrew them leaving Alan and Shirley to wait for the guys from the rental company to fetch them.

At 2am, or thereabouts we get to the accommodation where we find Therese, Jennifer and Steph awake, waiting for us. The rest of the cyclists are fast asleep. I am amazed at Therese's team's capacity to provide us with a warm meal even in the middle of the night.

I quickly make a phone call home after finding a multitude of messages from a concerned mum and Conrad. It is not like me not to answer any message so their concern is obvious. Although I play down the day's events to my mum, I break down when I speak to Conrad. An accumulation of all the stress and fatigue and the thought of having another four days of intense cycling combined with my injuries.

Our instructions are to wake up at 7am. We will still be cycling the planned route the day after even if we wouldn't have had a good night's sleep. I don't stop to think about it much, all I am thinking about is the inflatable mattress that I have put in a quiet corner underneath the gymnasium's stairs, falling asleep as soon as I hit my head on the pillow.

Day 6 - Kirsehir to Avanos

2009-09-07T05:27:00.000-07:00

I guess we had been looking forward to this day ever since we got our hands on our route cards. The shortest day with only 90kms and the opportunity to visit the famed fairy chimney rock formations of which the region is so famous. Stephanie Dalli's excitement was so evident that morning, as today's location was the highlight of her trip!

As what has now become a mantra, Alan stresses the importance of timings. I am about six minutes behind time. Although Alan always tells me he is confident that I will make up the time, it is extra pressure on me, and I must admit it does slightly mar the fun. Briefing over, off we go. Paul decides to join us on the ride and we set off together. Although the road is relatively flat, the tarmac grip is incredible and makes it feel as if we are cycling at a constant incline.

Turkish Tarmac!

Today we only have one checkpoint but as always it is a welcome break, especially when Big Ed is there to welcome us with his beaming smile and big hug, or Carolyn and Steph's cheeky grins, fooling around to cheer us up. I am now bored of the staple food that is being provided but obviously it is the best food to keep us going. I know for a fact that I will not look at Nutella, Peanut Butter and Bananas for a very long time after this adventure.

Yet again we get a police escort. Driving slowly behind us, ensuring our safety, never do they show any hint of boredom. Always ready to give us an encouraging smile, I am sure that they would rather do something more riveting even though the views are generally amazing. I am so touched when one of the policemen offer me an apple. I politely refuse, as I admit I am not to adept at eating and cycling, and keep cycling, focusing at keeping my pace. Shortly after the police car drives close to me, and the policeman offers me the same apple but this time neatly cut into bite size pieces, which he hands over to me bit by bit. I am so touched by this show of friendship that tears well in my eyes. I am not normally one who easily shows emotions but Lifecycle is changing that!.

Finally we are to enjoy a good downhill. The tarmac is perfect. The grip is just right for us to just go down as fast as possible, reaching speeds of 65kms/hour. Tony and Robert are well ahead of me, trying to catchup with them I sense there's something wrong. I stop and realise I have a flat tyre. The policemen promptly stop and motion me to get into the car. I obviously refuse and start changing the tyre. Robert, who has realised that I am not behind him stops and seeing the stationary police car, fears the worst and cycles back up to me at record speed. The relief on his face is so visible when he sees me and quickly moves me away from the bike and in a flash repairs the flat.

Rob flatly states that he will cycle with me, as he does not want to leave me alone. He is still recovering from the fright of seeing my bike on the floor, the policement standing next to it and me nowhere to be seen. Picking up a good pace we almost race off. We are in good time, and should make up for the lost time in the previous days. But our good spirits are soon deflated when I get an other flat tyre. Robert repairs its and we set up but get another one in the span of ten minutes. I am very upset as we are losing precious time. Alan drives up and stops the car. He and Robert are trying to change it as quickly as possible in order to save time. Shirley as always tries to encourage Robert to keep on cycling, advising him that he too is losing time even though it is not his puncture.

Soon we start seeing signs directing us to Avanos, a town set on the banks of f the Kizilirmak, the Red River, which gets its name from the clay that it deposits. This clay has provided Avanos with pottery for centuries and the town is still dominated by this industry despite the inroads that tourism has made in the area.

Rob and I literally fly towards our accomodation, picking up great speeds. I arrive there in a very foul mood. I have lost precious time because of flat tyres, and I know that I only get five minutes a day extra for flats – not exactly enough when you consider I had three in a span of fifteen minutes. I just dump the bike in the first empty space and then go in a corner to lick my wounds. All the effort has made my ankle swell considerably and is extremely painful to walk on. Dr. Steph, giving me anti-inflammatories and Carolyn doing physio, advise me not to go on the sightseeing tour but to rest my leg as much as possible.

Accomodation in Avanos

As has become the norm, we are visited by the Mayor of Avanos, who shows a great deal of interest in our endeavours. Alan explains, with Soner translating, the efforts that the Lifecycle team have put in over the years, efforts which leave a considerable impression on the Mayor and his delegation, who wish us Güle Güle - safe journey, with a smile.

Formalities done, I try to make the most of the sunshine and hang out my washing to dry - a welcome change to our attempts of drying our clothes in musty gyms. As I am out hanging my clothes, Alan tells me that I have gained an hour from my efforts today. I feel much better. It is only day six and a lot can happen in the coming five days. I need to relax and I should grab the opportunity to wind down and relax a bit. Having our accommodation in Avanos we are conveniently located within the triangle that delineates the roads connecting to the best sites in Cappadocia - the fairy chimneys and the rock cut churches in Goreme.

The great expanses of eroded, carved and shaped volcanic phallic-like symbols combined with the still dryness and omnipresent dust give an impression of barrenness. However this land is exceedingly fertile thanks to the volcanic tuff that forms the land. The weir formation of soft dusting rock have been shaped over the millennia surviving invading armies and indigenous people who have done their best to exploit the land's potential. What is amazing is that a feeling of time standing still and a sense of continuity is felt simply by looking at the still inhabited rock caves. Tourism has done its bit and a number of stalls selling local ceramics and souvenirs greet the tourists that flock the area.

As my ankle is swollen and is painful with every step I take, I miss out on the walkabout around the chimneys. Instead I sit down in the shade, sipping an ice cold Coca Cola with Space, Robert, Kola and Steph. From there, we move on to Goreme. Is an open air museum and is famous for having the few remaining Cappadocian settlements who rock cut houses and fair chimneys are still in habited. Unfortunately the village has not been spared from tourist development, which does spoil its character, with it's main street given over entirely to providing the tourist with souvenir shops, internet cafes, carpet shops and the always present tourist shops.

Once again, I find a comfortable place to sit on sofas and sip chai. This time I am joined by Willie, Hulya, Robert and Nigel. Sitting down and relaxing feels surreal. It has been such a long time since I had the luxury to stop for a moment and enjoy some relaxed banter. I almost feel guilty.

I said, "almost feel guilty, not guilty!"

This evening, even the Kitchen team take a well deserved rest, and after physiotherapy and Mass we all head towards the town centre where we are to have dinner which includes belly dancing and whirling dervishes. The practice of Sufi whirling is a twirling mediation that originated amongst the Turkish Sufis and which is still practiced by the Dervishes of the Mevlevi order. The ritual's aim is for the dervishes to try to desert their nefs', egos or personal, bad, desires by listening to their master and Sufi music, thinking about God. Although the food was that which is generally expected from a tourist trap and which left most of us trying to find the food on the plate, the whirling dervishes were the highlight of the evening!

Around 1030pm I limp back to the accommodation. I make sure my bike is ready for tomorrow and then set off to find a room, with a bathroom, far away from the madding snoring crowd. We don't' know what to expect tomorrow as the route hasn't been planned but if Lifecycle lives up to its reputation it will definitely not be an easy day!

All photos, unless otherwise stated, courtesy of Maria Vella-Galea

Day 5 - Cubuk to Kirsehir

2009-09-07T05:22:00.000-07:00

Tossing and turning on my inflatable mattress, sleep does not come easy. I spend, what seems an eternity trying to shut off the sounds that are surrounding me. I feel jealous of Edward happily snoring away, sprawled on his double mattress, or Robert in deep sleep oblivious of the frustration that myself and other awake cyclists are feeling. Not their fault really but equally frustrating nonetheless.

The wake up call is never welcome. Today we have another long journey of 195 kilometres, on gravelly roads, roads with a grip that makes down hills irrelevant. Mornings have become a routine. Breakfast consisting of coffee, bread with peanut butter and some dry cereal as I don't drink milk. Deflating the mattress, packing our clothes. Searching for a missing sock, getting the clean clothes off the clothes line and queuing for phsyio. Thankfully there are not many of us so Carolyn and Francesca although busy, are not overwhelmed and can see to all our needs.

Prior to departing, Alan reminds me that my timings are still behind but as a parting shot he encourages me telling me that I should be able to catch up if I keep a good rhythm. I fully understand the principle of timings but I cannot really understand how a cyclist, who might be 6 minutes behind the time, will be considered as having participated rather than successfully completed Lifecycle. It's part of the Lifecycle game and I have to accept it.

I am thankful for good company, especially today. The roads are long and never ending making them extremely boring. One is bound to start talking about a multitude of subjects. Today's topic was favourite TV shows, when Rob and I were kids. We both discovered that we were fans of the show CHiPs – California Highway Patrol. Since the story was about two motorcycle policemen, Robert decides to film our bikes in the same way as the opening credits of this programme. He went one step further and started singing in a very loud voice the signature tune. It might seem silly now but one cannot imagine the respite such silliness brings when taking on such a journey.

Simon, who in the past few days had a bit of a hard time, seems to be doing well today. In fact he cycles with us most of the time. Edward teases him a lot, especially when Simon decides he wants an ice cream or plate of pasta in the middle of nowhere. Jokingly Edwards announces that he will be writing a pantomime revolving around Lifecycle and will have a difficult (fonqla) character called Sikal!. Simon is perhaps a bit less amused than us but still manages a smile.

As we proceed towards Kirikkale, the roads become really bad. They are in the process of being resurfaced but the gravel is so loose that cars passing by end up hitting us. We decide to risk and drive on the wrong side of the road as there we are sheltered from the loose gravel. I can't wait to get out of this road. To make matters worse it is getting hotter, which makes cycling on these roads even worse. At one point we decide to stop and buy cold water but we meet Carolyn and her backup team who promptly provide us with ice cold Powerade.

We are doing a good time, but as we get close to the accommodation I get a flat tyre. Rob gets into pit stop mode and changes it within seconds. Urging me to keep on cycling, I leave him to pick up the rest of the stuff. As I pick up a good speed, I realise that Rob is not behind me. I try calling him but he is not answering, I slow down and try to figure out what happened. Simon catches us up with me and I ask if he has seen Robert, which he has and tells me that he is on his way. Catching up with me Rob tells me that he lost his mobile and stopped to look for it. He was lucky to have found it since it was lying in a grassy patch at the edge of the road.

I get a strong urge to cycle faster, wanting to reach the accommodation as soon as possible. Picking up an average speed of around 21km/h, we race to improve our timings. We make it to Kirsehir stadium at a good time, well before some of the other cyclists. I am pleased as the gap is narrowing. I definitely don't want to fail on getting the “successfully completed” certificate. Not after all this effort.

Since we arrive at a decent time, we have the luxury of sorting our stuff properly. Washing our clothes, and getting some fresh air to dry them. In my eagerness to remove my knee strapping and getting into the shower, I pull off a piece of skin, which at the time goes unnoticed until the hot water from the shower makes contact. Then I howl! I make up for it by going into a supermarket with Pierre and Jesmond to treat myself to an ice cream. I am not a big fan of ice creams but I feel I deserve one today.

As night falls, I prepare to go to sleep. Night-time has become a source of stress for me as I am not sleeping well. I realise that I am not the only one and Maria and Carolina invite me to join them in sleeping in a room they discovered at the back of the gym, far away from the cacophony of sounds. Moving our stuff into the room we settle for the night. Girl talk is inevitable and as we are discussing shoes, handbags and men, we suddenly leap out of our skins when we hear a peremptory knock on the window. Two police men are obviously on a beat, and checking as to why there is a light in what is supposed to be an empty building. We all consider going back into the gym but quickly change our minds when we hear all the snoring that is taking place. We go back to our room, make sure that all windows and doors are locked and quickly fall into a deep and welcoming slumber.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

Day 4 - Safranbolu to Cubuk

2009-09-07T05:07:00.001-07:00

Although I had the luxury of sleeping on a bed, in a room with three other girls who barely breathe, I did not sleep well. Today, according to the route card, is going to be one of the longest days. I had stuck religiously to Alan's training programme but the maximum amount of kilometres clocked on my Garmin was only 190kms.

At the height of summer, the temperature is still cold at 4am, making me fish out my arm warmers and wearing them as soon as I leave our accommodation for breakfast. The breakfast area is a hive of activity. Checkpoint signs loaded into the first vehicle. Tyres checked for the appropriate air pressure and supplies loaded in boxes ensuring we have enough food for all the four checkpoints.

As the sun starts to rise over the horizon I wrap my hands around my coffee mug, taking warming sips of the sweet liquid which warms me up in the cold early morning air. The novelty called peanut butter is wearing off and I reluctantly slather the butter on my piece of fresh bread, which I thank Therese and her team for, since they would have been up much earlier than we to prepare such a spread.

Although the run has risen, the early morning chill can be felt as , Rob, Tony, Simon and I leave first. Following the signs, I decide to try an experiment today. I will not refer to the route card and see how it goes. After all I should not be on my own as we are all cycling in a group and I put my faith in Soner and Steph who are usually the ones who put up the signs. Nevertheless I carry it in my back pocket just in case.

Leaving the accommodation and taking a left turn to Ankara, we end up taking a wrong turning and ending up in a coal works factory, of which we were very unceremoniously escorted out. Back on the road we are caught up by Willie and his ladies, who very easily overtake us. I keep in mind Tatyana's words about taking it easy especially in the first kilometres. My knees are giving me a hint of trouble so much so that Carolyn has decided to strap them for me.

Inclines are felt from the very start, although at 5% they are mild, it is still not a cycle in Central Park and I focus on my cadence, posture and breathing. I also focus on giving myself enough fuel. The energy bars are proving to be a good investment but they are not something I like. I am only eating them to ensure that I have the right nutrition.

Cycling on the highway was not as bad as I thought it would be. Heavy traffic did not bother me, as all drivers kept a safe and respectful distance from us. However it seemed that we would be dogged with tyre problems, with Nicky (Kola) being the first victim to stop with a flat tire. Robert urges me, Tony and Lenny to keep on cycling while he stops to help Kola. We keep on going up the 8% incline, getting some respite when the roads starts to undulate.

At 46km, we stop for our first checkpoint and Robert is nowhere to be seen. I want to wait for him as we had agreed we would cycle together. I am in a quandary really, as I know Robert is good enough to catchup with me but at the same time I feel I would be letting him down if i keep on going. My dilemma is soon solved as I see Robert checking in!. Kola and Simon are on the way but he cycled fast to catch up with us. I admire his stamina and the positive approach he as to all of this adventure. Quite an inspiration I must say.

Tackling each day from checkpoint to checkpoint I find the second stretch as quite tough. My knees are seriously hurting me now, and I am very much aware that they could be my downfall although I try not to think about them. Most of the roads are straight main roads, quite boring really but as we head towards the village of Cerkes we know that we are getting closer to nicer countryside and more importantly the second checkpoint. As is normally the case the checkpoint is found at a Petrol station, which is usually welcome as there are clean toilet facilities. As Carolyn is doing physio on my knees, Steph gives me an anti-inflammatory pill as my left knee has started to become inflamed. To try to keep my mood light, I joke with the backup that the route card is incorrect as it states “CHECKPOINT 2 – Petrol station with horse and cart” - I look around and the cart is there but where is the horse? Since we started Lifecycle I have seen countless dogs and cows but no horses and that makes me miss my horse, Daffyd, even more. We did see village women working on freshly shorn raw wool, a sight we city people do not have the luxury to experience in our every day lives.

After a quick bite to eat and the standard blue Powerade, Robert, Lenny and I set off. The road is a constant 6 – 7 % incline. Tough. But not as tough as what is in store for us. A never ending hill with a 10% incline. Honestly I do not count the kilometres, they are stored somewhere on my GPS and eventually one day I will go and check it out, but at this point in time it seems interminable. Up, up and more up hill we go. Lenny lets off steam by shouting some words that I don't' think should be published on this blog, Robert jokingly follows suit and I, in my heart of hearts, ask myself why am I putting myself through this torture.

Mario, Ray, Carolyn and Hulya pass by in the back up van, giving us encouragement and promising us that a good downhill will soon follow. They were right! Robert and Lenny speed off. I can try to imagine their speed as I am clocking 68kms per hour and they are nowhere to be seen. Speeding down the winding road, my smile is soon swept off my face when a van decides to overtake a truck in a treacherous bend, nearly hitting me. To avoid the van, I nearly end up in a ditch. Luckily I don't and keep on cycling but I am in shock and burst into tears when I meet the rest of the guys at the junction leading towards Ankara.

A checkpoint is always welcome and this was no exception. Still shaken after my close encounter with the van, Stephanie gives me a cup of Chai (Tea) which was supposed to be enjoyed by Fr. Pierre. At the time she felt my need was greater than his!. Suddenly as she was checking my knees, we hear a cry of despair! Nick Valenzia in tears, looking at his damaged bike. Inadvertently left in front of a backup van, Alan did not notice it and drove off, damaging the shaft in the process.

Fatigue and stress, and Space's over zealous nature, did not really help the situation. Nick saw his Lifecycle dreams almost vanish as the bike was seriously damaged. With Alan, Rob, Space and Nick consulting over what could be done, it was decided that Nick takes Kola's bike for the day and in the meantime Space and Alan would see how the damage could be repaired. Robert as always calmly gives some valid suggestions which see Nick looking more positively at the situation.

Soon after we all ride out of the petrol station, Nick, Lenny and Luke feel a surge of energy and just push ahead, leaving Robert, Tony and myself to cycle together. Our synergy is good and we all encourage each other, pacing to ensure that we optimise our energy. Yet again we are faced with up hills and an off-road piece which I do not enjoy especially since it has a lot of gravel which makes controlling the bike even harder work. Avoiding a car, whose driver decided to drive closely to me, saw me twisting my left ankle slightly. Nothing serious but it is annoying me.

Reaching the fourth checkpoint in the middle of nowhere, we find Nick, Lenny and Luke leaving the checkpoint while Ray greets us with a smile. He tells us that there is a mistake on the route card and we only have 220kms rather than the estimated 240. We are elated. It has been a long day and some respite is always welcome. Biofreeze and physio on my knees have become the order of the day but now we have to include my ankle which is slightly swollen, but nothing can dampen my spirits now that I know 'home' is closer than expected.

Setting off, singing songs ranging from Fields of Gold to Bicycle race, we meet up with Nick and company who have stopped to repair yet another flat tyre. Seeing that they do not need our assistance we keep on going. There are no signs and we do feel a bit uneasy as the last thing we want is to take a wrong road and cover unnecessary mileage, however when we hear the backup van driving behind us we all breath a silent sigh of relief!

Night is falling quickly, and our motivation is to get to the accommodation as soon as possible It has been a long day. I am so tired that I fail to look where I am going when crossing a junction. Luckily for me no cars were passing at that time when I look back I see a very pale looking Ray staring at my kamikaze crossing.

It is completely dark when we get to the accommodation Therese and Jennifer welcome us with open arms, someone takes my bike, I am so tired that I don't' recall who it was. Suddenly I start feeling very cold. My sugar levels have gone down and I am famished. Jennifer quickly hands me a Powerade and a plate of rice with bolognaise sauce. I just wolf the food down and ask for seconds almost immediately. The cooking team are excellent. Warm, hearty and tasty meals always await us and it a motivating factor for us.

Exhausted, I drag myself, limping all the way, to a building across the road from our accommodation to have a shower. It is the last thing I feel like doing but after accumulating so much dust and grease it is a necessity and in reality I always feel better after.

Sleep does not come easily. I am too tired to close my eyes. The snoring and variety of other noises, that echo in the gym, do not help.

I don't know what time it is but once it arrives sleep is very welcome.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

Day 3 - Zonguldak to Safranbolu

2009-09-07T04:46:00.000-07:00

The high levels of air pollution produced by the coal works in Zonguldak do not make it the most appealing of places to stop but who cares at this stage? Waking up to a hearty breakfast, after a good night's rest and a warm shower is what we really want.

A police escort leads us out of Zonguldak. A coal works factory gives the area a miserable feel, where hardships were and are still possibly felt. The feeling soon passes as soon as we start climbing a steep tree covered hill, giving the route a picturesque view. The route card promises us around 20kms of downhill roads, something we are all looking forward to especially after the previous two days. But the downhill never seemed to materialise. The tarmac, which is excellent for cars, has an incredible grip forcing us to pedal even though we should be going down a hill. Some respite is felt when we reach relatively flat roads, enabling us to draft each other. Although the route is tougher than expected we are all in good spirits.

Today is a short day. Only 109kms. Our destination is Karabuk University residence, situated in the centre of the non-descript town of Karabuk. Accomodation is segregated and males are not allowed to enter the females' dormitory and vice versa. They are very strict with their rules and our medical team, all being female, had problems giving assistance to injured male cyclists. At Hulya and Soner's assistance, the security guard relents and allows the medical team to enter the building.

As always us females have to suffer more - our dormitory is further back from that of the males and from where our truck and kitchen are situated. Carrying our luggage into our designated rooms is not something we really felt like doing but the promise of a shower makes us walk faster. The shower is a bit of a disappointment as they are not clean. Nevertheless, the strong flow of water is welcoming and I feel reborn once I put on a change of clean clothes. As has become routine I wash my cycling clothes. The splashes of mud from the previous days' routes are fading away but irrespective of how many washes I give them I get a feeling they will be my best souvenir. All cyclists clock in by 3pm. By 6pm we are treated to a hearty supper followed by Fr. Pierre's mass.

Being in Karabuk means that we are close to a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so we are given the opportunity to enjoy some sight seeing. Safranbolu is a stunning tow of half timbered houses. Ancient houses line the slopes of the ravine presenting a smudge of dirty pastel coloured timber and red tiled roofs. Although very tourist oriented, it has managed to keep the old way of life remarkably intact. Apart from a bazaar of souvenir shops few concessions have been made to the twenty first century. Centre of attraction is the Izzet Mehmet Pasa Camii, an elaborate late eighteenth centure mosque. Our stopping to take a group photo generates a lot of interest from the children playing in the square, their laughter stopping briefly to look at what we are doing.

On our way back to our accomodation, Julian asks Hulya what the word “mudurgulu “ (or something of the sort, I can't spell it let alone pronounce it!) means as he has seen it in quite a few places. Hulya explains that it roughly translated it means “director”. Willie and I try to pronounce it but we fail miserably, jokingly I tell him “muglu guglu” and that was it. From that day on it was a very commonly used word. We did check with Hulya as to whether our interpretation was safe to use – the last thing we wanted was to say some rude or blasphemous word.

Another day comes to a close. From here, according to Gilbert's words during briefing things should start to get easier.

He was wrong.

Photos, unless otherwise stated, by Maria Vella-Galea

Day 2 - Kandira to Zonguldak

2009-08-29T18:04:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-28T05:01:00.001-07:00

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

2009-08-27T05:19:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-04T06:58:00.000-07:00

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

Tragedy

2009-07-30T03:50:00.000-07:00

“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

2009-07-23T00:42:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-17T04:10:00.001-07:00

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

2009-07-09T03:06:00.001-07:00

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

2009-07-09T02:35:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-03T05:19:00.000-07:00

"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.

DRIVING LESSON No: 2 - Stop Signs

2009-06-23T06:16:00.000-07:00

A stop sign is a traffic sign, usually erected at road junctions, that instructs drivers to stop and then to proceed only if the way ahead is clear.

The use of such signs, and the logic behind it, is simple and clear. It does not require a doctorate in nuclear physics or any related subject. Even if no such signs were to exist, it is common sense to stop when venturing out of a side road or into a road where visibility of traffic is limited. And when I mean traffic I am not only referring to cars but to motorcycles, bicycles and horses – although the latter instances should be avoided as much as possible.

The Maltese islands do not offer us, cyclists, the luxury of being able to venture out in the countryside and cycle for kilometres on end in peaceful, unpolluted roads. In order to practice our sport we are forced to risk our lives on the main arterial roads. I do enjoy that adrenaline rush, but my self preservation levels are quite high, so I do take extra caution when cycling on the main roads, however there is little respect towards us and sometimes the risk of an accident is way beyond my control. Such attitude makes us feel as if we are invisible. How many times do I have to swerve onto the centre of the road, risking being hit by a passing car, to avoid a car coming out of a side road? Just because no other cars can be seen doesn’t mean they just drive out?

Some drivers are oblivious of the fact that roads are also used, legally, by cyclists and these should be respected at least on the same level as they would respect another car. Some drivers might not realise the implications of being involved in an accident with a cyclist. Do they realise how unprotected we are compared to when travelling in a car?

So when you are out there, driving to wherever destination is next on your agenda, please spare a thought on those cyclists who are either trying to keep a healthy lifestyle, or doing their bit towards the environment or else training for a worthy cause!

Ride against the wind

2009-06-21T10:39:00.000-07:00

With half the world asleep, the other half probably absorbed in some sort of sin, I prepare to set off to meet my Lifecycle buddies. It is 330am on a Sunday morning, and most of my friends are out partying and making the most of the summer, which incidentally starts this very day!

I put on my helmet, switch on my GPS, bicycle lights and cycle to Ta’Qali to meet John, Maria and Pierre so that we can start our 160km training ride for the day. It is still dark, and sunrise is still a couple of hours away. I can’t stop myself from yawning and visions of my comfortable bed keep on appearing in front of my semi-closed eyes. I am on auto-pilot. Half way into training I have become very familiar with most of the Maltese roads, especially in the area around my home.

Cycling in the direction of Ta’Qali, I feel as if I am tackling the first hill of the day, when in reality the road is flat. The wind is blowing in the opposite direction and making it tougher for me to cycle. I had been warned that the forecast for the coming days would be windy. For once the Met office got it right!

John’s bubbly character makes it easy to switch into a good mood and his positive outlook always rubs off on me, even when I am trying to keep up with him to make sure that he doesn’t feel obliged to slow down because of me. Reaching Qormi in a very good time we head towards the airport to meet Maria and Pierre. We meet them just as we finish climbing up the hill – or ramp, as John likes to call them. I joke that it is unfair on us, having to climb this hill when we will probably have to loop this area twice in today’s training.

After a brief discussion as to whether we should do some loops to cover some mileage I suggest we do the Valletta route, which I normally undertake when I want to do a short route. It is scenic, has some undulations and is quite close to our meeting point at Mater Dei. Since looping is not something we enjoy doing, it was easy for me to sell the idea and we head towards Valletta through Marsa.

430am and sunrise is still about an hour away. This does not mean that there is no activity on the roads. Quite the contrary. Undoubtedly most of them are party animals on their way home. At one point we are accompanied by a mobile club – I guess if we cannot make it to a club the club will follow us. Well this is what four young males did. Presumably drunk, their comments were incoherent. A friend of mine, a Lifecycle participant in 2007, had mentioned that such encounters were part of the joys of Lifecycle training.

Since I am in the company of some very good cyclists I give that extra push, so much so that John teases me about my surge of energy! I am pleased to see that my average speed has increased to 23.5 km/h. We are on flat ground, the wind is in our favour and we are yet to attack the hills but it is still motivating. Maria and I comment that we have only fives weeks of training before we set off to Istanbul and start discussing what our activities will be undertaking when we come back – definitely more sleep, a trip on a jet ski, barbecues and perhaps even sky diving – the skies the limit!!!

We stop for a quick snack break, during which I try to stifle a yawn but Pierre quickly catches me in the act and starts teasing me, something that has become a habit!. After an hour we reach St. Julian’s. Being my usual route, I half expect us to turn back upon reaching the Love monument but Pierre and John have other ideas. We head towards the Coast Road and I start doubting and worrying whether we will reach Mater Dei on time. After all there is that little ‘ramp’ called Burmarrad Hill that we would need to tackle.

I start feeling tired and a bit unwell, I just try to brush it off and keep a steady pace, especially when we reach Burmarrad. I look at my GPS and am happy to note that my pace up the hill is improving every time I embark on this route. It takes us 20 minutes, from the start of Burmarrad to Mater Dei, covering 60 kilometres. We have now 100 kms more to go.

I am still not feeling 100%. I wonder whether it was because I might have pushed myself a bit too much or whether because I am coming down with some virus or something of the sort. I try to put it at the back of my mind while I get teased on my participation in a TV programme the evening before.

We are glad to see Ray, fondly known as Space, back in training after having missed a couple of sessions due to an injury. He is very enthusiastic about today’s training and is raring to go!

Listening attentively to Alan giving an update on the pre-visit

Alan gives us a quick update following feedback received from Soner, Mario and Gilbert, who are currently on a pre-visit. There is some amazing scenery to look forward to. However it is also already very hot. Sizzling 40 degree temperatures have already hit Turkey and Syria, so we already know what to expect in August. Alan emphasizes the importance of hydration, having the right mix of carbohydrates in our water, wearing sunscreen with an appropriate protection factor and covering our arms properly to try to avoid heatstroke as much as possible.

Receiving last minute instructions before hitting the road

730am. Time to hit the road. Tony and I decide to try and cycle together having done very well in the past week. We set off on the usual initial route through the B’Kara By Pass. Yet again I feel the wind against me, creating a resistance that requires more energy than I feel I can give at the moment. Slowly we progress towards the Mgarr Roundabout where we take a turn towards Rabat. A slow steady incline. As we move forward, I realise that I am not at all feeling the way I should. I am feeling dizzy. At the roundabout leading to Mtarfa, where we are supposed to tackle our first hill, I realise that the sensible thing to do is stop. Tony and Simon stop immediately to see what is wrong. My heart rate goes up. I start shivering. I feel very weak. Simon immediately calls Alan, who leaves his checkpoint to come and assess the situation. Just as Alan had instructed in the morning’s briefing, Tony and Simon put my legs up to try and get the flow of blood back into my head.

A steady stream of cars drive past us and as expected they do not stop. Two fellow cyclists and friends of mine, Karen and Justin cycle by and immediately stop to see if I need anything. That is one of the special things about cycling. There is an unwritten code of support. Karen immediately pours some cold water on my head, which is very welcoming even though the temperature is not that of a summer day.

Alan and Shirley arrive shortly after. Alan suggests that I go home and give it a rest for today. My determined, or hard headed nature, whichever you prefer, does not particularly like that suggestion so I wait a bit more in the hope that I get better and can proceed with the day’s route. Karen and Shirley stay with me. I eat a banana to try and get some energy into me, even though this is my third banana in so many hours.

Soon, we are joined by the rest of the cyclists who have already gone up Mtarfa and are heading towards Zebbug. They all stop to see what happened and while most of them would like to stay on to see that I am ok, Alan gestures for them to leave. I am in good hands so they must continue the ride otherwise they will lose precious time.

Half an hour later I muster up some courage to attempt to cycle. Karen offers to ride with me, whilst Shirley is still concerned. I assure Shirley that I will not push myself too much and will take it in stages, see how I feel. Slowly Karen and I push off. Thankfully there are few undulations in the road, and we set off at a comfortable pace, reaching the Zebbug by-pass in no time.

The road disappearing under me like a film reel, I pick up a good speed. The wind is in our favour, and I feel good enough to try to attempt going down to Qormi. I want to at least try to get to Hal Far and back. Taking a slow but steady pace we reach the Airport. I am still feeling very tired and weak and hit by an occasional shiver. Reaching Lister Barracks again the wind is against us. I admit I would have struggled a lot more hadn’t it been for Karen who cycled in front of me, sheltering me from the wind.

The ride stops at Caffeina, our favourite coffee shop in Zebbug. John, Jesmond and Pierre are already there ordering coffee. Soon after we are joined by other cyclists who have all felt the effect of the wind. Today was not easy for most of us. Although the sun barely made an appearance making it easy in terms of heat, the wind was quite strong, giving little respite even in downhills or flat spaces.

Whilst I am a bit disappointed at just having done only 105kms instead of the 160kms originally planned, there is always a lesson to be learnt and the important thing is that one takes heed of such lessons and try to learn as much as possible.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv

Bitter Sweet Symphony

2009-06-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

I guess I lost the right to whinge and complain about up hills, cycling in the heat and during unearthly hours on Sunday 14th June.

Listening to the Nursing Officer and Transplant Co-Ordinator Anthony Bugeja explaining what patients and their families go through when they are faced with Renal disease is a humbling experience. Something which, I am not ashamed to admit, brought a tear to my eyes.

When I stop to think about it I realise how many things we take fore granted in our lives and how much we should be appreciative of what we have.

The satisfactory result I achieved in Sunday's time trial, which upon completion left me elated, pales in comparison with the success story of a two year old having a kidney transplant and a potential new lease of life.

We truly should be grateful.

Adrenaline Rush

2009-06-09T03:21:00.000-07:00

It’s been three hours since I arrived home from my 120kms/6 hour Sunday ride and the adrenaline is still pumping. Although my legs are almost numb and I am tired I can still feel a lot of positive energy in my body. It has been a good day overall. Good spirits all around. Good team work and support from the start. What more can a Lifecyclist ask for I say to myself?

Starting off at 4am, Robert and I clocked 42 kilometres prior to meeting our fellow cyclists at the usual meeting point at 645am. Although a 4am start meant that I missed out on a fun Saturday night out with friends, it gave me enough time to wake up properly, warm and hype myself up in preparation for the day's route. I admit I am not a morning person. It takes me ages to start focusing and stop yawning – something that Pierre pointed out to me one morning earlier on in the training.

Reaching Mater Dei, I find some cyclists already there. Some warming up and doing stretching exercises, others being seen to by the physiotherapists, other checking out their tyres for sufficient pressure and others just trying to figure out why they had wounds on their hands.

Tony stretching his muscles before the ride

Physio Carolyn helping Lenny with stretching exercises

Yes, Nigel has become an endearing source of entertainment. Showing his ‘war’ wounds to the rest of us we eventually realise that the wounds were not made through means of some spectacular bike stunt but by applying hair removal cream to his legs with his bare hands! We cannot stop teasing him – but he is a good sport and takes the teasing in his stride.

Nigel's "war" wounds"

It’s time for Alan’s briefing. He points out that preparation does not only consist of getting on the bike and going out for our scheduled training rides. It also consists of regularly checking that our bikes are in order. Tyre pressure, chains well oiled, batteries in our lights etc etc. Alan also recommended that we keep a daily diary. Jotting down what we have eaten, mileage covered, routes taken, heart rate, average speed and feel good factor. The latter will help us understand where we feel good and where we don’t which will help us identify our strengths and weaknesses.

Lifecyclists paying attention during Briefing

I cannot agree more on this. Ever since I started Lifecycle training, I kept a diary on a spreadsheet. As I went along I started adding relevant information and like that I can see the progress I am making. The only thing I didn’t have was the Feel Good Factor which I included in this week’s template. In Alan’s words – Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance!

Prior to setting off a group of us agree to cycle in a group together. We are more or less on the same level and we agree to see how we get on. Ideally we keep in a group that way we can keep each other company and at the same time ensure that no one cycles on their own especially when abroad and where roads are totally unfamiliar.

Setting off with Tony, Simon, Nicholas, Nigel, Ian and Clifford we hit the B’Kara by Pass, where Cliff, who is the most experienced of the lot starts to give us tips on how to draft and supervising us in the process. I must say, that whilst being in the front is harder work, I feel safer since I do not feel too comfortable being so close to the back wheel of the cyclist in front of me. Reaching the Mgarr roundabout we proceed to Burmarrad where we change formation. I go to the back, and the lack of wind hitting me directly helps me to improve on my speed and make me feel more comfortable. Reaching the Targa Gap downhill, we all break loose, some of us reaching speeds of 66kms an hour – well it is a downhill isn’t it. Make the most of it!

Our loop today starts at the St.Paul’s Bay roundabout which leads to the Xemxija By Pass. From there we take the road up to Mistra Village and this is where the hard work starts. Having driven through this road a million and one times, it is only when cycling that one realises how steep it is. Ian, Tony and I pick up a steady pace, reaching speeds of approximately 12km/h. slowly and surely, soon after we reach the Belleview roundabout where we are greeting by Ray and Soner, cheering us on and directing us towards Mizieb – the first killer hill of the day has been climbed and I am feeling great - no need for CPR!

Going down through Mizieb, we tackle another steep but short climb then it is mostly flat ground till we reach the Xemxija by Pass again. Here we find Mario, Francesca and Carolyn all encouraging us and giving us directions. Once again we keep a steady pace and go towards Splash and Fun. The Coast Road is windy and we find ourselves having to use up more strength as the wind is not in our favour. However I find myself reaching average speeds of around 21kms an hour which is very motivating.

Reaching Xemxija Hill for the second loop admittedly is tougher as the energy levels are slowly depleting. I have been cycling for about four hours now but I don’t feel exceptionally tired. In fact I the good mood I have is translating into a very big smile and into a lot of positive energy. I am enjoying this ride very much.

Having done two loops we are instructed to head towards Balluta, Sliema where the Group ride will end. Hitting the Bahar ic-Caghaq hill we are faced again with the wind and inconsiderate drivers who insist on driving dangerously close to our bikes even though this is a wide road and there is enough space for everyone. It is a pity to see such lack of consideration, especially when there is a cycling lane in that particular stretch of road. Drivers in Malta have a lot to learn when it comes to etiquette, consideration and safety.

Around 1015am we reach Balluta. Ray, Shirley, Francesca and Soner are there to greet us. Francesca urges us to start stretching – something that I still have to get into I must admit. It is so important as it can prevent injuries which at this stage of training are really not something we want. After stretching we have what has become a customary coffee – most cyclists have ended up with this "habit". I must say it is a good way of socializing and mingling as it is in these moments where we have time to talk between us, share experiences and compare notes.

My GPS is showing that I have clocked 105 kilometres. 15 more to go. The ones who did not have an early start are more or less half way through. I must confess, that starting earlier works better for me since now all I have to do is cycle towards home where a soothing shower and a nice lunch awaits me.

As I reach home, with a huge grin on my face, the feel good factor is at its peak.

I look forward to the next training session now.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv

All in the mind

2009-06-04T07:57:00.000-07:00

One doesn’t have to study psychology in depth to understand the power of the mind. The mind plays a vital role in the way we handle our day to day challenges. Our thoughts, perceptions, emotions, imagination and will are all managed through our minds.

What on earth is she talking about you might be asking yourself.

Participation in Challenges such as Lifecycle are not just about being physically prepared but also about mental preparation. The power of the mind should never be underestimated. Concentration, confidence, control and commitment are the main mental qualities considered to be the most important for successful performance in such activities.

Whilst commitment, concentration and control are the ‘easiest’ to achieve, confidence is something that I believe most people struggle with. At least I can definitely speak for my self on this. I often have doubts on my capabilities and when these doubts creep in I find that my performance suffers.

This doesn’t mean that we are expected to be confident all the time. Be it stress at work, struggling to cope with family obligations combined with the hectic training schedule do contribute towards having our off days. Whether it is related to sports or even just one's appearance we all go through moments of lack of confidence. Whilst having a bad hair day does not have dire consequences, having a negative attitude in events such as Lifecycle can have upsetting consequences.

Take for example three weeks ago. I woke up in a bad mood. Don't ask me why. I just did not feel like waking up at 6am on a Sunday morning to go and cycle 60kms. Going round Xemxija and the Coast Road for a couple of times to clock up the miles and build stamina was not something I felt like. I admit. I just sulked and walked out of the house in one of the foulest moods ever. Needless to say that particular training session is best forgotten.

Fast forward three weeks. Sunday 31^st May saw most of the Lifecyclists take part in the longest cycle ever. Going over the route, sent by email two days before just kept me picturing all the hills we had to climb. I already had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

But, that particular morning I woke up motivated. The motivation being the result of the fitness test I took the previous day. Although I need to improve, my fitness levels are not as bad as I thought and this had such a positive effect on me.

This doesn't mean that I wasn't tired by the time I cycled up Burmarrad hill for the third time in the mid-morning heat. This does not mean that I wasn't looking forward to heading towards the beach in the afternoon because I was.

But, I did it all with a smile on my face, without breaking into a sweat.....no pun intended

The heat is on!

2009-05-25T03:50:00.000-07:00

Although Alan’s words, to keep ourselves hydrated, are still ringing in my ears, the water in my bottles are so warm I could make myself a cup of tea. Not at all inviting. Still I force myself to take a sip of the disgusting liquid as it is imperative to keep hydrated. In reality I have used up more water attempting to cool myself down by throwing water down my neck than actually drinking it.

Another drawback that I have is that I still haven’t fully mastered the technique of drinking and cycling at the same time, at the same speed, without hugging some pavement or plant or whatever happens to be in my vicinity at the time. Yes Grace is not my second name. So I try to play it safe and limit the damage to those around me.

The warm breeze that brushes against my face is not welcome. I suddenly think about the times, early in the morning, when I complained about the cold and humid breeze that would hit us especially in valley areas. I longed for a whiff of cold air to hit me, but I knew that that wasn’t going to happen this morning.

It is ten o’clock and nearing the end of this week’s group ride which saw us loop around the Airport – Birzebbugia road a couple of times. The heat is on with a vengeance. What a change from the previous week. Although it is still May the temperature is around 7 degrees higher than average. It is a shock to my system. I am hoping that it will cool down a bit but really and truly I have a feeling that the worst is yet to come, especially when we get to Turkey and Syria in the sweltering August heat.

A little after ten o’clock we are directed to go towards Birzebbugia centre, where we stop at the local Band Club. The barman immediately asks us if we want ice cold water. No points for trying to guess that answer. I down two small bottles so quickly that I realise how dehydrated I am. I have to make sure that this does not happen and I need to start thinking about this from now!

Alan once again stresses the importance of hydration. Adequate fluid intake is essential before, during, and after exercise. I've read somewhere that each day we need to replace about two litres of fluid to balance off water loss - this does not take into consideration the amounts of fluid lost when we sweat during a workout. When the body heats up, production of sweat helps to reduce body temperature. A good comparison is that of our body to a car's radiator. If the radiator is not kept full, then the car overheats and will either break down or start giving problems. The same will happen to our bodies if we don't drink enough fluids. The impact of this will lead to a gradual reduction in physical and psychological performance.

Filling up my bottles with cold water we set off home. It is almost 11am by the time we leave Birzebbugia. As soon as I pour some water over my neck it dries up instantly so much is the extent of the heat. Every so often I force myself to have a sip, even though fifteen minutes into the ride the water is warm again. By the time I get home I realise that my water intake has increased from this morning.

A good step in the right direction I think to myself.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv

Lifecycle summed up

2009-05-18T03:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I missed the group Sunday ride as I was participating in the last event of the Equestrian season, organised by the Malta Equestrian Federation.

Having said that, this does not mean that I missed the actual training, as I undertook the planned 80km route, on my own on Saturday morning - and I sorely missed my cycling buddies.

Since I was not present to give my side of yesterday's story, I am publishing, with his kind permission, Alan's weekly write up , which sums up a lot of my many thoughts regarding Lifecycle.

Read on and enjoy!

"That was a 20km loop today, and already some of you are realising just what all this is about. Hours and hours of training sacrificing your family and friends around a small island which you not only are familiar with but which you get sick of the sight of. Saturday evenings become a non starter, holidays sacrificed as you need the leave time for the event. New cycling equipment and all the gizmo’s required for the trip mean money will be tight. Spare time at a minimum and that’s before the challenge starts.

Over there it is more long hours on a bike, days on end with no proper recovery. Sometimes those hours are spent with friends but invariably there will be periods when you find yourself alone. Strange country, tired body and psychological warfare going on in your brain. Basic field conditions each night and the odd accommodation which is not exactly “what the brochure” promised.

So what the hell are we doing this for? Why do we all volunteer for such hardship? Well of course we would love to convince ourselves that it’s all because of the cause and that it’s a sense of public duty but it goes far deeper than that. We all like to get ourselves out of the comfort zone we live in. We get turned on by the challenge, we need to test ourselves, find out what makes us tick. We need the adventure, to form a bond with like-minded people and hopefully come out of all this a better person.

Of course some of you will identify with the spiritual side of all this and there is no doubt that by identifying with your inner self you may hit on something that is hard to explain in tangible terms. One thing’s for sure and that is if you believe this to be just any old endurance event then you really will get a surprise and are missing the whole point.

Whist you spend 11 days on a bike some man or woman will be dragging themselves to the renal unit three times. They sit down on a couch probably donated by this organisation and have a large needle inserted into their arm which is connected to a machine also probably donated by this organisation. They will then spend the next 4 hours having their blood changed due to their dysfunctional kidneys being unable to do the job. Imagine the despair, the feeling of inadequacy. Fears for the present, fears for the future? It’s all there believe me. But you are lucky enough to be able to help them, to make their lives better.

Next time we start feeling sorry for ourselves let’s try using that image as an inspiration. Let’s focus on what the main reason for all this effort regardless of any personal goals.

Life Cycle is what it is because we try and bring to the attention, the plight of the patients in their daily struggle. By doing such an extreme event we get the attention of the media and sponsors and therefore raise the funds required to keep that man or woman on that machine.

Don’t know about you but I think apart from all the other reasons you are doing this for, that’s a pretty good reason for making those sacrifices we mentioned earlier?"

Highlighted text reproduced with kind permission from the author Alan Curry

Unsung Heroes

2009-05-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

Carolyn Bonello at 17:59 on 12 May

We were bored at Splash and Fun roundabout so thought we'd pose.....each week we shall take progressively funnier pics for you to treasure....that's the danger of giving me your camera :)

This comment,posted to this photo, on a Facebook album I uploaded after a Sunday training session depicting our two physiotherapists fooling around with my camera, made me think.

The general public see cyclists training together to reach a common goal, wearing their Betfair Lifecycle tops proudly as they cycle around the island. But in reality there is more to a team than just those who wear the cycling top.

Just stop and think for a moment about all the work that is entailed to organise such a massive event. Who plans the route, ensuring the safety of cyclists and back up team? Who prepares the marketing material and PR making sure that the event gets well publicised and sponsors get the coverage due? Who takes care of organising logistics, flights, transportation, visas? When in Turkey and Syria meals won't just materialise at the end of each day - they will have to be planned in such detail to ensure that cyclists are getting the right nutrition required for such an endeavour. Preparatory cyclists meetings need to be organised, topics for discussion researched and thoroughly prepared. All this happens because there is a dedicated team working hard - since November to ensure that everything falls into place.

It's not only that. Each Sunday the backup team turns up, at the early hours of the morning, to support the cyclists. Whether it is to give directions at various checkpoints, solving any issues (like the closure of the Coast Road when a training session was planned there) that might crop up, taking photos and filming of the event or simply giving words of encouragement to struggling cyclists they dedicate time, away from their families, friends, hobbies and beds, to support the cyclists.

Let's face it - waiting on a roundabout or in a corner, with a Lifecycle banner next to you, is not the height of major entertainment especially in the hotter months when am sure most of the team would prefer to go and laze on a beach.

Working behind the scenes often than not does not yield much gratification by the general public perhaps through lack of awareness. So this one's for you guys! Thank you for all the hard work and support you are giving us!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv

Shadow of Doubt

2009-05-11T08:18:00.000-07:00

The snooze button on the alarm clock was created to prolong our agony when trying to wake up and acclamatise ourselves with the fact that is it time to get out of bed and get on with what we are supposed to do. Automatically I hit the snooze button numerous times but then the guilt sinks in and I reluctantly get out of bed. Today is no different. Actually today is worse. At 545am I just cannot accept the fact that it is time for me to wake up and face a four hour Lifecycle training session.

Although I wasn’t in bed at 9pm, I did not sleep late, drink alcohol or eat the ‘wrong’ type of food, I realize that today is not going to be such a bright and chirpy day for me. In a split second I try to find an excuse why I should skip training and stay in bed. It doesn’t work. I know that by missing training I won’t achieve anything except a free guilt trip which will probably stay with me until the very end of the Challenge.

I go downstairs and have my staple breakfast prior to any training. A banana. I guess by the end of Lifecycle I will not want to see another banana in my life but for the time being I will just have to like them. After usual checks on the bike, I set off to meet Robert. Seeing that he lives close by in Lija we cycle together up to Mater Dei.

I guess my face says it all this morning as the first thing he asks me is whether I am alright. I mumble that I am sleepy and we set off to Mater Dei where we find Shirley distributing the much awaited Betfair Lifecycle cycling tops. These tops will be our uniform which we will be required to wear at least during the Sunday training. The cycling tops are cool! Red and white are the primary colours with Maltese crosses, the Betfair logo – as our major sponsors and the Lifecycle Challenge Logo. The tops are a success with everyone commenting positively on the design. I will wear it with pride! I hope I won’t let the organisation down when I am cycling up a hill at a slow pace!

Alan is not here today. Mario and Gilbert take over. Explaining the importance of high cadence so as to build endurance and limit the risk of injury they also go over today’s route which was sent to us electronically a few days before. Today we are including some up hills in our training. The toughest climb being the St. Paul’s Bay Bypass.

As has become tradition, prior to leaving Ray takes a group photo – but today we are more colourful with our new cycling tops. The pride in wearing these new tops is evident as couple of cyclists pose like proud peacocks showing off their ‘feathers’.

Off we go!

It seems that there is quite a lot of energy in the group today as a large chunk of the group set off at a fast speed. I start off slowly, keeping in mind the words of a friend of mine who did Lifecycle two years ago advising me to take the first couple of kilometres easy so as to avoid burn out. But suddenly I realize that my taking it easy is the only speed I can face this morning. My legs feel taught and my heart rate is very high even though I am not doing any up hills but simply cycling on the B’Kara by Pass.

As soon as we get to the Mosta – Mgarr road I am faced with my first incline. As I no longer see other cyclists in front of me I start to panic. I know there are some other cyclists behind me but I have never fallen this far back and although I am trying to keep a high cadence I am not managing very well. I try to keep a constant speed but I must admit I am struggling.

I start getting visions of the long road ahead. Xemxija Hill. Bahar ic-Caghaq Coast Road, Splash and Fun and back – as many times as possible in two and a half hours. Even going downhill I find my pace slower than usual. Again negative thoughts start slowly creeping into my mind. Why am I doing this? Why inflict this torture? No one has forced me to do this? I could have easily stayed out partying with friends last night and had a nice lie in on this glorious Sunday morning. Turning towards Xemxija I am aware that there are members of the back up team waiting for us to give us directions. My reverie is broken when I hear Mario’s words of encouragement “Ejja Mariiiiiiiii” – two small words that don’t cost anything but they are such great motivators.

I encounter my first major hill soon after. The Xemxija by-Pass hill, an approximate 1 kilometre of steep incline. It is not as bad as I thought it would be and I soon start upping my pace. At least I am not cycling alone as I join Simon, Lenny, Ian, Luke and Nick. Reaching the Salina coast road we realize that the road is closed. I recall reading something in the newspapers of a Triathlon event but we keep on cycling until a pint sized warden with a high pitched voice starts waving at us to stop. We try to convince her to let us pass, assuring her that we won’t disrupt any activity but she won’t listen to anything we have to say and reluctantly we start heading back.

Nick suggests that we loop around Burmarrad and Salina roads but we all agree that we should not go off on a different route without telling the back up team. So we head back to St. Paul’s Bay where we inform Fr. Pierre and Shirley. We suggest Nick’s idea but we are told to loop until the St. Paul’s roundabout (from Burmarrad) till it is time to head back to Xemxija at 10am.

The Xemxija – Ghajn Tuffieha by pass is a mecca for motorbike riders who every Sunday congregate at the Apple’s Eye Café in Golden Bay. One after the other, powerful bikes whiz past us, leaving a cloud of dust and exhaust in our faces. I can’t help but think wistfully of my beloved Honda, currently in hibernation in my garage. I turn round to Simon and jokingly tell him that if I don’t make it to Istanbul with my Canondale I will turn up with the Honda! After all I still would be riding two wheels!!

Starting the loop from scratch we see the group that was in front of us finishing their first loop. They have nearly caught up with us. It seems that they managed to get past the pint sized warden and managed to get to Splash and Fun but now they have to complete the same loop we were instructed to undertake.

10am. Our meeting point is the Apple’s Eye. I feel a surge of energy and motivation as soon as I get close to Golden Bay. The heat from the sun’s rays is increasing by the minute and because I am still getting used to drinking more when riding, I feel dehydrated. The water is no longer cold so it is not exactly enticing to drink warm water. Mario flagging us down to stop was such a welcome site! I am out of breath. My heart rate is around 155 beats per minute. I am relieved this training session is over.

Hiding my feelings was never my forte. In fact if acting had to become the only available profession I would probably end up unemployed. Exhaustion, hunger and fatigue have hit me all of a sudden and it is showing. Carolyn and Francesca, who have known me for sometime notice this immediately and come over to see what happened. Getting a bit of pep talk from them makes me feel better. I have to learn to find the balance when pushing myself and being too hard on myself. Being to hard on myself is not the best of ideas.

We all have our off days, when we feel like throwing the towel and walking away. I think Mario summed it up “some people talk about it, the stronger people do it. Running away from it is not an option”.

Wearing my Betfair Lifecycle T-Shirt with pride I look forward to the next training session!

Photos Courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv

DRIVING LESSON No: 1 - The use of Indicators

2009-05-05T11:03:00.000-07:00

The use of indicators on a car's dashboard is for the sole purpose of indicating (showing) to other drivers one's chosen direction of travel. It is not an aerobic exercise that requires stamina or strength and thus can be performed by all with the minimum of effort.

Why, are you asking yourselves, this sarcasm? After all sarcasm is considered to be the lowest form of wit since it is a bitter form of irony intended to taunt its target.

What has it got to do with my training for the Lifecycle Challenge? In all truth and honesty, rather than taunting ‘my target’ it is more the venting of my frustration, which I think I can safely say is that of many other cyclists on Maltese roads, caused by lack of regard to us by some drivers.

The more I spend time cycling on our roads, the more I realize the substantial amount of morons out there that declare themselves to be drivers. The Highway Code should be renamed Law of the (Maltese) Jungle since quite a few drivers have adopted this stance. Perhaps not always through fault of their own but the situation is as it is.

Take this morning for example. Am out for my daily ride. Driving up a narrow road in Lija, I stop to wait for a car reversing from a garage. Fair enough, the road is narrow and there is not much one can do except wait. So far so good. Behind me is another car also waiting. Once the reversing car drives off I wait for the car behind me to continue driving. Logic – I am slower than he is, so why hold him up. But does he drive on? No! He just starts dishing out expletives and swearing at me because I am blocking his way into the garage. Like I am supposed to read minds! There was no indication of him turning right so how could I know what he was planning on doing?

Another instance. Car coming out from a side street in Rabat. Position of the car indicates that it will turn left. But no. Again with no sign whatsoever, it decides to take a right turn. Straight into little invisible me! This was at 7am. It was daylight. I was wearing bright clothes.

So considering the circumstances I feel I am allowed the pleasure of being sarcastic....at least for today!

PS No cyclists were hurt during the making of this post! :)

Comfortably Numb

2009-05-03T08:39:00.000-07:00

For someone who gets bored very easily Lifecycle can be a Challenge. Now don't get me wrong here. I am not bored of the Challenge but of those moments that see me and the other cyclists looping round and round a particular route. The Airport – Hal Far road, or the Zebbug by-pass for example.

As I said in previous entries boredom is one thing we have to cope with seeing the size of our island. But these loops are necessary. They help us to build our stamina, endurance and patience!

Yet again I felt that today was a good ride.

Today I tried out my new bike. A Cannondale Caffeine C3. A smooth ride I must say. I still have to get used to the gears though as they are the opposite of what I was used to with my Bianchi. In fact I did mess up a couple of times. Not good when you are trying to negotiate a steep incline and tightening the gears instead of loosening them up. But it is all part of the training experience. This will enable me to get to know my bike faster!

As has become the norm, after a detailed briefing from Alan,we set off from Mater Dei. Today we are heading south towards the Airport – Hal Far Road.

As one of the first to leave Mater Dei, Paul and I couldn't help but comment that we should enjoy this placing within the group as it is the only time we are in the lead! All said in good humour of course. This is not a race. As experienced Lifecyclist William Saliba commented, it's not a matter of who comes in first or last. No one was singled out for coming in first or last.

I must admit my competitive spirit sometimes gets the better of me and falling behind, especially in the up hills annoys me. I try to keep in mind that there is no point in speeding up and burning myself out. What I need to do is keep a constant speed and follow the training programme that Alan prepared for us.

Our final checkpoint is at the Safi Band Club. Following directions given by the Backup team near Lister Barracks we head into a country lane towards Safi. Being a country lane, the road is not exactly smooth. Paul commented, good natured as ever, that cycling is a pain in the butt and is waiting desperately for numbness to sink in so that he won't feel the pain any more!

My sense of direction helps me to get to Safi, though I do stop to ask a man walking his dogs for directions. Sympathetically he looks at me and tells me that I am not far off. Do I look that bad I think to myself. Although it is hot and we have cycled for over 50kms I am not feeling dead but perhaps the impression I am giving is different.

I must admit that the Safi Band Club is a welcome sight. I still have to cycle home but I really feel like some coffee and a banana to give me some more energy. And catching up with the rest of the team is always something to look forward to. Comparing of notes, getting advice from the more experienced and sharing a joke is all part of the experience.

Some cyclists even found their way to Damascus today! - a bit earlier than expected!

Heading home with Maria, John and Robert the first phase of training comes to an end. This week will see us cycling 60kms instead of 40kms in the longer route days. An extra hour of training. Slowly building up.

I will end this entry by quoting Alan from his weekly write up “Lifecycle is not some kind of game, some “nice” experience, an “enjoyable” adventure, this is Life Cycle with all its blood and snot! Sore arses, stressed bodies and pressure cooker environment is what faces us not some walk in the mountains with a rucksack on your back”

This is what we are going to be facing and we'd better be prepared for it!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, pacemedia.tv Shirley Cefai

Crash Boom Bang!

2009-05-01T09:32:00.000-07:00

A sultry sun and a cold wind greets me as I cycle up towards Mater Dei. A far cry from yesterday’s warm and sunny day but, I think to myself, that such weather could be a blessing. After all I’d rather undergo training in cooler conditions – at least for the first couple of weeks. We will have time to cycle in the heat and humidity I reckon.

As I get to our meeting point at Mater Dei’s entrance, I meet Nigel. I cannot help but jokingly ask him whether he has taken his breakfast, following last week’s episode. Slowly other cyclists start to zoom up the hill. Some looking quite fresh others looking as if they haven’t got into training mode yet and still recovering from a late night.

Briefing starts at 7am. Alan introduces Carolyn who has just joined the back up team as a physiotherapist. Carolyn already has Lifecycle experience, having been part of the back up team during the crossing of the Arctic Circle. Following up on the previous Friday’s meeting, Alan stresses the importance of developing an efficient fat burning system and to progressively build up the strength in the muscles so that as we progress with our training our bodies can cope with the intensity of such activity. The name of the game right now is building endurance.

Alan briefing the team prior to the day's ride

Alan also explains Drafting. Drafting is a technique wherein cyclists go in single file to block the wind for the other cyclists behind them, taking turns at being the one in front. The trick, Alan explained, is to remain as close as possible to the bike in front of you, keeping a constant speed. Alan stresses that this technique requires concentration, precision, and good communication otherwise it could lead to a potential chain reaction accident.

This technique will be part of our training today, which will take place mainly on the Zebbug by Pass. I groan inwardly as most of my weekly training took place on this road. Unfortunately boring routes will be part of the stress that we will have to cope with. Malta being a small island means that we are limited for route variety. The plan today is to continue to gradually build up our aerobic base. Increase our mileage and getting a feel of what it will be like to be sitting on the bike for longer periods of time. Feeling comfortable being on our own should we, for some reason or another, get isolated from the rest of the group.

Off we go!

Guided by the backup team we leave Mater Dei and head towards Mosta, following the same route we took the previous week. However this time we turn towards Rabat. The road surface is relatively good and traffic quiet. The road leading up towards Zebbug is a steady incline albeit not steep. Shifting gears I realize that my muscles haven’t warmed up fully and admittedly my pace slows down slightly but I still maintain a constant speed.

Upon reaching the roundabout close to the Military Cemetery on the road leading to Ta’Qali, Alan encourages us to form groups and start drafting. I team up with Simon, Lenny and Carolina. With Lenny in the lead we head towards the bottom of Saqajja hill. Here one starts to realize the level of concentration one requires for this technique as you really have to get close to the rear wheel of the cyclist in front of you!.

As we get to the first roundabout, which leads towards Mtarfa, Rabat or Zebbug, Mario from the backup team signals us to go towards Zebbug until the roundabout that leads into Siggiewi. From there we are to keep looping until we are told to stop or proceed to another location.

Whilst we do our best to keep drafting, it is not easy to keep the same tempo especially in the early stages of training where we are still figuring out many things ourselves – let alone our cycling mates’ performance. Although we keep this rhythm for quite some time eventually the group breaks up. I try to keep my cadence as stable as possible, changing to lower gears when the incline gets a bit steeper and vice versa. A downhill bit is always welcome, enabling me to stretch a bit, taking a standing position on the pedals.

As the morning progresses, so does the amount of traffic and careless drivers. Unfortunately cycling lanes only exist at short intervals and lengths and they either stop abruptly or else are used as parking bays by some irresponsible pick-up van owner or used for a leisurely Sunday walk by some pedestrian who decides that the Zebbug by-Pass is a great location to get some fresh air. Does it require a degree in rocket science to understand that these lanes are for cyclists? Whether it is lack of logic, ignorance or inconsideration the end result can be potentially fatal as it gives cyclists no option but to cycle on open roads anyway.

Cycling on the road leading up to Mtarfa, I find myself crashing onto the pavement, dangerously close to an electricity pole. What caused it? An inconsiderate driver, who decided to come up close and personal with my bike. This was totally unnecessary and uncalled for as I was driving close to the pavement, thus not blocking the driver’s lane, moreover the road is a dual carriage way and traffic is usually flowing at this time of day, so it wasn't a case of me blocking the road. I do realize that some cyclists do tend to drive in the middle of the road, and this can be very frustrating for drivers however that does not condone such behaviour.

To add insult to injury the driver just drove past, as if nothing had happened, leaving me to nurse a graze on my elbow and knee. Although my wrist feels slightly sprained, I just pick up the bike and start pedalling again. Fuelled by my fury, I feel my adrenaline pumping even more. Heading back towards Zebbug I realize that blood is flowing from my knee so I decide to stop and pour some water over it. As I am trying clean the wound as best as I can, Shirley from the backup team stops to see what happened. She immediately informs Alan who promptly dispatches Carolyn and Francesca, our physiotherapists, to give first aid. Catching up with me they attempt to stop me but I insist on continuing with the ride, annoyed that I have fallen behind fro the rest of the group and affected my timing. Carolyn is not surprised. She knows me and my determined nature well. In reality it is nothing serious. I have had worse falls. It’s more fright and a bruised ego.

The ride reaches it’s end soon after and we stop for a coffee in Zebbug. I put some more water on the wound and have a very welcome Espresso. Adrenaline is still pumping through my body as Alan gives us a short de-brief on today’s ride. Soon after we are ‘dismissed’ but most of us keep chatting, comparing notes on what affected us the most in today’s ride.

Memento of today's ride!

Francesca is still concerned about me and offers to give me a lift home but I am fine and can go the short distance back to Lija. Still concerned, she finds out that one of the cyclists lives in Attard and arranges for us to cycle down together. At least one good thing came out of the fall. It gave me the opportunity to talk to other cyclists and start getting to know them even better.

Another week of training is over and overall it is a very positive experience. I am enjoying Lifecycle. I just hope that motorists out there would show a bit more concern towards our safety!

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace, Carolyn Bonello

The Challenge begins!

2009-04-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

The dreaded sound of the alarm clock goes off. In reality it doesn’t wake me up as I have been awake for quite some time. A multitude of thoughts run through my mind as I try to fall asleep…..unsuccessfully.

Sunday morning, 19th April. The first official ride of the Betfair Lifecycle Challenge 2009 will take place this morning and will be the start of this year’s training programme, scheduled to last sixteen weeks. Sixteen weeks of progressive training, building and developing our physical and mental fitness to cope with the grueling challenge that awaits us in August.

The Lifecycle Organisation requires no introduction. Since it’s inception in 1999, it has earned a well deserved reputation as being an organisation which organises a tough endurance event that sees dedicated cyclists battle several elements, crossing different countries all over the world averaging around 200 kilometres per day. But the yearly challenge isn’t just about cycling in extreme conditions. The cycling part is a means to an end. Raising funds and awareness about renal disease whilst supporting the Renal Unit at Mater Dei to assist in the upgrading of equipment which will increase the quality of life of patients visiting this unit is a small part of what this organization does.

My thoughts are back on the morning’s planned cycle. 60 kilometres. In all fairness I have cycled that amount of mileage in the past but it was always in a small and relaxed group. This time the group will be much larger. The cyclists’ assessed for their performance. What if I am not up to standard? What if I cannot cope?

Slowly I get out of bed. After having breakfast as instructed by Alan the day before, I put on my cycling gear. Go down to the garage to inspect my bike. Nothing should have changed from last night when I made sure that the tyre pressure was as it should be, the chain was well oiled and spare tube in my pouch. Slowly I set off for our meeting point at the entrance of Mater Dei. Cycling up towards the entrance, I see that the Organising Committee and back-up crew are setting up banners.

Being the first training event, we are having an official send off by the Parliamentary Secretary for Youths and Sport Clyde Puli. Slowly other cyclists start arriving. Some of them have already participated in previous events, others are new and probably feeling a bit lost like me. Although I might not show it I am quite a shy person and it does take me some courage to walk up to someone and introduce myself. But this is part of the Challenge and I start introducing myself to others. I think it is important to start working on building a team spirit from the very start. What if the group doesn’t gel? Team spirit or lack of it can make or break a group.

Getting to know other cyclists

At 9am sharp the Parliamentary Secretary for Youths and Sport Clyde Puli arrives and gives a brief speech. After the speech he goes round speaking to the cyclists, giving words of praise and encouragement and promising his Government’s support.

Lifecycle Deputy Chairman Mario Scerri briefing Parliamentary Secretary for Youths and Sports Clyde Puli on the Challenge and what it stands for

Group photo

It is time to set off on the route set for the day. I am one of the first to start off – mainly so that I can pick up my pace and then keep up as much as I can.

Heading towards the Birkirara by Pass we pick up a steady speed. Soon cyclists start zooming past me. Am I that slow I think? I look at my GPS and I am clocking 25km/hr. Not too bad I think. I continue with my pace, changing gears when necessary. The training I undertook, on my own, the previous week is beneficial as I could experiment with gears, without disrupting anyone’s pace or timings.

At regular intervals we see the back up crew either showing us the way or ensuring that we are fine. A back up vehicle, recognizable by the Betfair Lifecycle Challenge 2009 poster heads back and forth.

Sometimes other cyclists catch up with me and vice –versa. The pace is just right to have brief introductions but as soon as we get to Burmarrad hill, the downhill is too enticing and the majority of us just pedal faster, clocking 52km/hour and more.

Proceeding towards the Bahar ic-Caghaq coast road we are advised by the Backup team to undertake a couple of laps. I can’t help remembering a Facebook Status update a few days before when I commented on the fact that I had built an excellent relationship with the Coast Road having done a couple of laps there the day before. A comment which Sandro, a fellow cyclist, reminded me of just as he whizzed past me!

Cars are driving past me but I keep on focusing on my breathing, speed and occasionally at the wide open sea. Just before I reach Splash and Fun I am flagged down by Alan who advises me to put my bicycle seat higher. I am not too sure as I do not feel comfortable not being able to put my feet flat on the ground however Alan explains that my current posture on the bike will could lead to potential knee problems. The plan is to gradually increase the height of the seat till I feel comfortable enough. As Alan is busy sorting out my seat I see the other cyclists go past. My first thought is that I am going to lag behind but then this is a legitimate and important stop. If I don’t get the basics right at this stage of the challenge the consequences might be dire.

I start off again, heading up the slight incline towards Splash and Fun, Francesca and the girls flag the cars coming from the opposite direction enabling me to turn back and continue my lap. I start pedaling at a faster speed – my goal is to at least catch-up with the rest. In a couple of minutes, I see Carolina paddling on her gold coloured bike. God Bless her! Her bike is loaned and is not exactly the right kind of wheels to have but she is focused and looks determined. As we start the second lap I notice a fellow cyclist, Nigel, showing some signs of discomfort. The traffic lights are red so I stop next to him. He is suffering from cramps and tells me that he has not had breakfast so he is not feeling too well. I promptly give him one of my energy bars and encourage him to eat it. Making sure he is fine, I continue on my ride.

The sun is getting warmer. A gentle reminder of the weather we are to expect in Turkey and Syria this summer. After approximately 44 kms, we are directed to head towards Msida Bocci Club, going past St. Julian’s and Sliema seafront. The Regional Road tunnels are not an option as they are dangerous and it is illegal to cycle through tunnels. The steady climb up Bahar ic-Caghaq hill towards Pembroke is not easy but I keep focused on the cyclists ahead of me keeping a steady gap between us. Once this hill is over it is basically a constant flat road with some downhills towards Msida Bocci Club.

Reaching the Msida Bocci Club I find the backup team waiting for us. Throughout the whole ride they were there either following us in their cars, slowing down to check on us, to see if we are doing well or guiding us from fixed points, giving us words of encouragement. As I stop I realize that we have pedaled over 50kilometres. Admittedly the first 20 kilometres where the most difficult but once my muscles warmed up and I managed to get a steady pace going it felt good. Francesca, our physiotherapist is going around giving us tips on how to stretch our muscles to ensure minimal soreness or injury.

The first group training session is over. As we discuss our performance with the rest of the team, the magnitude of this event starts sinking in.

I feel proud to wear my Betfair Lifecycle Challenge T-Shirt.

Photos courtesy of Ray Pace

Prospective Cyclists’ Meeting – Sunday 5th April

2009-04-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

My involvement with Lifecycle goes back to 2001 when the Life Cycle 2001 Tri-Island Challenge took place in September covering areas in Malta, Gozo and Sicily. Forming part of the back up team, my recollections are those of saying to myself – “what?? Me taking part in something like this?? Never!”

Eight years later, I am at the Mater Dei Hospital Renal Unit Conference Room, submitting my application form to the organizing committee. Prior to the start of the meeting I meet up with cyclists who have already participated in this event, some even more than once. The fact that they come back for more is encouraging although from the looks of it they are very experienced cyclists – something that I am not.

As the room fills in we settle down. Waiting in anticipation to hear what Alan has to say. Alan gives a detailed brief on what is expected of us, what we are going to be faced with. He does not mince his words which is fine really. I want the crude facts and figures so I can prepare myself both physically and psychologically.

A visit and explanation of what services the renal unit offers, the amount of patients that undergo therapy here and further insight to what Lifecycle stands for convinces me more that my decision to participate is a good one.

The die has been cast

2009-03-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

As I fill in the extensive application form for Lifecycle 2009 I can’t help but think whether the recent bump on my head has made become crazier than usual. What am I going to put myself through in the coming months?

It’s not like I haven’t heard all the “horror” stories from past Lifecycle participants – the long hours on the saddle, the never ending inclines which seem to become steeper and longer as the days progress.

But then, I am not one that is easily put off or influenced. I like to find out things for myself. What is certain is that in the coming 17 weeks prior to the departure for Istanbul my life will be revolving around Lifecycle - the cause and training.

As I am writing this entry, I don’t know whether I will even make it to the airport on the 6th August but one thing I know for sure and that is that I am going to try my hardest to make it to the finish line on the 20th August.