October 5th 2014 - 12 Days to go
Feeling pretty chuffed with myself for completing the Lakes 5 Peaks in one piece and feeling reasonably fresh; I decided that the best way to get through the final lap was to avoid anything that could end in injury. So when a colleague told me she was going on a training bike ride for her own charity efforts I though I will come with you, we can keep to a safe route and trundle around for three or for hours away from the roads, mostly.
So full of the joys of a relatively mild autumn Sunday morning we set off. Now, anyone who knows both of us will also know that it will be anything but a peaceful Sunday morning with each of us having a higher than average tendency to prattle on endlessly, as those of you who have read this blog from the beginning will have worked out by now. Sure enough having been pedalling for no more than 15 minutes we missed a turning for our preferred route.
I am a firm believer in the saying 'everything happens for a reason'. So, in this case the minor detour happened just so that I could do an impromptu Superman impersonation by flying over my handlebars before landing head first on a short cobbled slope in a tangle of bike and limbs.
As I saw the cobbles lurching towards my face, Kilimanjaro was looking like it was off. Fortunately a combination of cycle helmet and just enough sense to get arms and hands down I managed a lucky escape. With cuts on my arms and wrists bleeding, and a my palms and chin feeling a bit tender I picked myself up and promptly sat myself down feeling a bit nauseous. After about ten minutes the world stopped spinning at 10000 miles an hour and I managed to get my bearings. After an abortive attempt to fix my saddle on correctly I thought what the hell, if Chris Froome can ride on in the TDF with broken wrists I can trundle along with a few cuts and bruises. So off we set to cycle for another 25 miles or so, what a trooper!
Of course, things really started when I had a shower on my return home as that was when I started to discover how deep and how tender these cuts where. And of course after a few days the myriad of bruises have matured nicely to make my legs look like the Dulux colour charts in B&Q.
Other than that the final run in is now pretty uneventful, gym visits, a bit of gentle walking around the neighbourhood, booking train tickets to Heathrow and getting my US Dollars for the trip. Of course Britain's Next Top Model decided to change her sweaty gym top for a dry one right in front of me while I was on the rower, at least it caused me to suck the stomach in and row a bit harder.
Then of course there is the drugs. I am now within the anti-malarial window so my first tab has been swallowed and to no ill-effects, a good sign. Next is diamox. Our assigned trek doctor recommended we talk to our GP's about diamox as it can help alleviate the symptoms of altitude sickness. I have some and have not yet taken them as apparently there are some side effects Our doc recommends taking a half tablet so that if we experience side effects we will know the difference to altitude sickness.
My friend Lezley, who it has to be said can turn most conversations to their base level, reckons that Viagra is good for altitude sickness. Quite how she knows this goes unexplained but is offered as a piece of information in the same way as telling someone the sky is blue. Of course, she has to tell me this at just the point when my new boss in work walks right up behind me. There is no suggestion that that the side effects of diamox are the same but I have taken one just before sitting down to write this nonsense so I will soon find out.
More of a concern for all of us on the trip is the discovery by one of our group that there is a possible side affect of altitude sickness called HAFE. HAFE stands for High Altitude Flatus Expulsion and manifests itself with alternate burps and farts with every step. Now as if we haven't got enough to worry about burps, farts and a little excitement in the undercarriage (allegedly) could be a few little add on's for the trip.
"Here you go way too fast
Don't slow down, you gonna crash
You should watch, watch your step
Don't lookout, gonna break your neck"
If you have been 'enjoying' reading this blog please consider sponsoring me by visiting Marks Just Giving Page
So full of the joys of a relatively mild autumn Sunday morning we set off. Now, anyone who knows both of us will also know that it will be anything but a peaceful Sunday morning with each of us having a higher than average tendency to prattle on endlessly, as those of you who have read this blog from the beginning will have worked out by now. Sure enough having been pedalling for no more than 15 minutes we missed a turning for our preferred route.
I am a firm believer in the saying 'everything happens for a reason'. So, in this case the minor detour happened just so that I could do an impromptu Superman impersonation by flying over my handlebars before landing head first on a short cobbled slope in a tangle of bike and limbs.
As I saw the cobbles lurching towards my face, Kilimanjaro was looking like it was off. Fortunately a combination of cycle helmet and just enough sense to get arms and hands down I managed a lucky escape. With cuts on my arms and wrists bleeding, and a my palms and chin feeling a bit tender I picked myself up and promptly sat myself down feeling a bit nauseous. After about ten minutes the world stopped spinning at 10000 miles an hour and I managed to get my bearings. After an abortive attempt to fix my saddle on correctly I thought what the hell, if Chris Froome can ride on in the TDF with broken wrists I can trundle along with a few cuts and bruises. So off we set to cycle for another 25 miles or so, what a trooper!
Of course, things really started when I had a shower on my return home as that was when I started to discover how deep and how tender these cuts where. And of course after a few days the myriad of bruises have matured nicely to make my legs look like the Dulux colour charts in B&Q.
Other than that the final run in is now pretty uneventful, gym visits, a bit of gentle walking around the neighbourhood, booking train tickets to Heathrow and getting my US Dollars for the trip. Of course Britain's Next Top Model decided to change her sweaty gym top for a dry one right in front of me while I was on the rower, at least it caused me to suck the stomach in and row a bit harder.
Then of course there is the drugs. I am now within the anti-malarial window so my first tab has been swallowed and to no ill-effects, a good sign. Next is diamox. Our assigned trek doctor recommended we talk to our GP's about diamox as it can help alleviate the symptoms of altitude sickness. I have some and have not yet taken them as apparently there are some side effects Our doc recommends taking a half tablet so that if we experience side effects we will know the difference to altitude sickness.
My friend Lezley, who it has to be said can turn most conversations to their base level, reckons that Viagra is good for altitude sickness. Quite how she knows this goes unexplained but is offered as a piece of information in the same way as telling someone the sky is blue. Of course, she has to tell me this at just the point when my new boss in work walks right up behind me. There is no suggestion that that the side effects of diamox are the same but I have taken one just before sitting down to write this nonsense so I will soon find out.
More of a concern for all of us on the trip is the discovery by one of our group that there is a possible side affect of altitude sickness called HAFE. HAFE stands for High Altitude Flatus Expulsion and manifests itself with alternate burps and farts with every step. Now as if we haven't got enough to worry about burps, farts and a little excitement in the undercarriage (allegedly) could be a few little add on's for the trip.
"Here you go way too fast
Don't slow down, you gonna crash
You should watch, watch your step
Don't lookout, gonna break your neck"
If you have been 'enjoying' reading this blog please consider sponsoring me by visiting Marks Just Giving Page
or TEXT code MPTC50 £amount to 70070 e.g. MPTC £5
You can also follow me on Facebook
For more information about the Princes Trust visit the website at www.princes-trust.org.uk
Mark
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