Today ranks right up there with one of my worst days yet. I will not go into detail, but I have saddle sores that make it almost unbearable to sit on the bike. Then ask me to cycle 145km. At 55km I was in agony.
The only thing that made it more bearable was chatting to my father midway through the day. The conversation went along the lines of
"Oh yes, I’ve had one before, its very common in the cycling world. How many have you got?"
"Eight."
"Phew!"
Anyone who knows my father knows that he doesn’t dish out sympathy. When we were kids we weren’t sick unless we had a proper temperature. More so, he has earned a reputation of being pretty tough and a bit of a camelman… (he’s going to love reading this!)… and so, to hear him say how bad he found it, how sore they are and give me some solid sympathy… suddenly turned me from feeling very sorry for myself to being just a little hard core! Classic. From then on, the pain was something to suck up and toughen me as opposed to wallow in and break me down.
Travelling with seven men means certain conversations are off limits – this being one of them. So I get no sympathy from them because I cannot explain what I am dealing with. It is amazing how a little bit of understanding can change things!
So, I know you don’t want to hear any more of this – but this was right up there with being lost in the desert, or climbing Chilga mountain in Ethiopia.
There are days on this trip where you have to remind yourself that it is voluntary, that you have chosen to do this, and that more so, you are paying to do this! I paid to put myself through that level of pain today. That is a pretty bizarre thought. Crazy fool.
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1 comment:
Has the cookie finally crumbled? just not cool, if its any help GT2010 will be a way less strenuous sporting event! x
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