Epic Tales (part 1!) : Setting the scene

"Dave? You all-right?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah..."

Substitute the name for that of your team partner, and it wouldn't be far from the truth to say that this can be the extent of conversation amongst many teams for long periods during the tough stages of the Cape Epic. It's amazing how many versions of the answer there can be though. There's the "Yeah!" as in "I'm great thanks! I love this event! I love this place! I love riding my bike!", then there's the "Yeah" that says "I'm Ok but I'm working pretty hard so don't you dare try and push the pace any harder", or the "yeah" as in "I'm just about hanging on but please tell me this suffering will be over soon". Probably easiest to detect is the "yeah..." that you know doesn't mean yes at all. The one that sounds full of exhaustion, dejection, defeat and extreme discomfort at sitting on a saddle grinding up hills in the heat of the African sun all day, that is really saying "NO, I'm not bloody all-right, I'm tired, hot, fed-up and I hate this stupid event and my stupid bike". Fortunately I'm pleased to say I don't think either Dave or I reached that point during the race, although plenty of other teams did.

As I sit here writing this, relaxing with a coffee, the sun warm on my back, and a view of Table mountain to one side, and the ocean to the other, it feels like weeks since we were immersed in Cape Epic life...and yet the race only finished a few days ago. The last 3 days have been spent readjusting, re-entering reality, and coping with the post-race depression of realising that this world you have been a part of for 8 days is finished, all the adrenalin has gone, and you are back to being just another person walking around Cape Town...that's quite hard to adjust to. There's no more daily comeraderie between fellow riders, waking to the sound of bagpipes, sharing stories of the day's route over dinner in the marquee, queuing to fill water bottles for the following day's stage....it's not easy to explain to anyone who's not done an event like this, that takes over your life for a week or more...but the come-down after it's finished hits you hard.

I spent quite a lot of Monday and Tuesday crying...the adrenaline I'd been running on all week had gone, a week of long days and early starts had caught up with me, and I felt desperately sad that I wasn't sharing all my stories of the event with Gareth, and that we hadn't been there experiencing it together. The profound weight of sadness at his absence, and the void of emptiness in everyday life where he should be, that often creep up on me unexpectedly, slowly encompassed me again, and poor Laura, a friend from Uni who I haven't seen for a while, instead of being greeted with the jubilant Cape Epic survivor she expected, got a sobbing wreck needing a shoulder to cry on! Great company, a couple of relaxed evenings, and delicious food courtesy of Laura's partner Charlie worked it's magic, and I'm now smiling again, and enjoying the last rays of sunshine in Cape Town before I fly back to Siberia, sorry, Britain...

There is so much to write about the last couple of weeks, it truly has been an incredible event and experience...I guess I should start at the beginning...

Pre-race 
After a very rushed couple of days between arriving back from my winter of work in Tenerife and packing everything needed to head out to South Africa, I somehow managed to make it to the airport on time, and arrived in Heathrow to meet an equally rushed looking Dave who had been busy with work up until the last minute. We arrived in Cape Town to rain, but the friendly taxi driver, who skillfully managed to get 2 bikes and two big bags and us into a car that definitely wasn't big enough for us, told us it wouldn't last, and he soon proved correct. Dave had found us an apartment that was plenty big enough for us to build up the bikes, and allow a major kit-explosion as we sorted what to take in our rider bags, and what could be left to pick up at the end.

A minor error on both our parts (due to failing to read beyond page 10 of the incredibly detailed event rules) had meant we'd overlooked rule 12 billion and one, part c, which stated "Both riders in a team must wear identical cycling jerseys at all times" Designed so that marshalls could easily tell whether riders were observing rule 14 million and three "Both riders in a team must be separated by no more than 2 minutes at any point during a stage" and also rule 10 zillion and two "Both riders must look professional at all times when riding, as we are streaming the event to thousands of viewers around the world, and do not want people to think we allow a load of complete amateurs to enter our highly prestigious event..." 
Actually, I made that one up, but we got the impression the rule about the jerseys was there to make sure all photo, video and TV footage of the event made it seem as prestigious as possible. So a shopping trip followed. Dave unfortunately vetoed my pink jersey, I said 'no way' to his choice of black (rubbish on photos!)

V & A Waterfront Cape Town, Table Mountain behind the cloud

Rider identity tag...no going back now!

Waiting for the Race Briefing

Scenic setting for the Race Briefing

Saturday brought the sunny weather we'd expected, and registration at the scenic, tourist hotspot of the V and A Waterfront, where the atmosphere was electric, with the buzz of racers milling around excitedly collecting bags, sponsors freebies, and picking up last minute race supplies. The lovely Kate, a friendly Australian volunteer who's partner Brendan was racing, was the one to register us and hand over all the race documents, and I think she could tell how excited I was by the huge grin on my face and the fact I was taking pictures of everything! Hers was to become a familiar and welcome face at Waterpoint 3 each day, as she and hundreds of other volunteers worked as hard as the riders to ensure everything ran like clockwork behind the scenes.
The race briefing followed, then it was a busy afternoon of repacking, checking bikes, carbo-loading on pizza, and turning in early for a dawn start the next morning, not that I actually slept much.....too much nervous energy coursing through my veins!

Prologue
A taxi early the next morning took us to the prologue venue, at the majestic Meerendal wine Estate. The prologue was in the form of a 22km ride with 700m climbing, designed to be fast and fun, and to seed riders into starting groups for the following day.
By the time we arrived there were already teams out riding, but our start time of 10;15 meant we weren't going to be afforded the luxury of a cool shady morning ride, and the sun was already feeling hot. I was so nervous I felt sick, there were TV cameras, journalists, film crews, supporters, other riders, trade stands, mechanics etc everywhere, and it felt like forever before it was our turn to ride.

Dave at the start/finish gantry

Getting ready to go

Prologue village panorama

Once we did get going, it was from a raised stage, with cameras pointed at you, your name announced to the crowds over the start system, and those dreaded start beeps that make you spine tingle with nervousness and excitement....it was a relief to finally push off and just start pedalling. immediately the noise of everything around you just melts away and it's just you, your bike, your partner, and the trail in front of you...
A few minutes into the race we were sent through the hall of the estate manor house, and down the front steps onto the lawn! I'd promised to ride behind Dave to film him on the GoPro, but when we got there he hesitated at the top, and I nipped round the side of him in case he decided he wasn't going to ride them....he did though, sorry Dave! The fun continued with lots of fast, dusty singletrack climbing and descending, berms, bombholes and jumps, and a fast-rolling surface. The incredible 360 degree views of famous landmarks like Table Mountain, Robben Island and Cape Point made the climbs pass quickly. Supporters lined the course as it wound through picturesque vineyards, and because each rider had their name on their back, it was motivating and uplifting to hear people cheering you on personally as you passed.

Taking the trickier but more direct lines at optional sections was met with cheers of approval from the crowd, especially as a girl (!), and my droppy seatpost meant I could race through the hand-crafted swoopy downhill sections having the maximum amount of fun possible, limited only be the teams ahead that I'd caught up. I was having so much fun I had to keep reminding myself to check and make sure I hadn't lost Dave.....having not spent a winter abroad riding fast loose corners, doing races to practice cheeky overtaking lines, and a nasty injury whilst descending on his bike last year, he was understandably being slightly more cautious (and probably sensible) than me and taking his time to get used to the different surface. I think we both enjoyed ourselves a lot though, and finished roughly where we'd expected to, in the middle of the mixed category, and most importantly, we felt strong and the bikes were working well, ready for the start of the main race.

The end of the prologue brought our introduction to a few of the fantastic race services that separate the Cape Epic from other stage races, and that we were to become accustomed to... On crossing the line, our bikes were taken from us to be washed, we were handed cold, wet towels to drape around our necks and cool us down, given bags of food, milkshakes and cold drinks and shepherded to a covered shady area to cool down, recover and chat to fellow racers from around the world...nice!
A coach drive to Citrusdahl, a small farming town at the foot of the grand Cedarberg Mountain Range, brought us to our first race village. Once again, I was a little overwhelmed by the scale of this event.

Rider tents

Race Village signpost!

Thousands of red rider tents, an equal number of volunteer tents, dozens of portaloos with an army of staff to keep them clean, showers and changing cubicles with an organized electronic queuing system, a laundry van, a rider lounge marquee with white leather sofas, TVs and a bar full of cold water and Energade, an ice bath area, dozens of trade stands and mechanic workshop areas, a massage marquee, a mediclinic marquee, a HUGE dining marquee with a stage, tables and seating for 1200 riders, a bar area, free wifi network and charging station, secure bike park area, media crew area ...I could go on...it was massive!
Other than the overwhelming scale of the race village, my first impressions of Citrusdahl were that it was hot, very hot....a little worrying knowing that we had a long day of riding ahead and we'd be out in that heat all day.
Enjoying a tasty buffet dinner in the marquee that evening, we were serenaded by a local teenage girl group who had selected a repertoire of songs filled with the words "Climb", "mountain", "Don't give up" etc etc.... a cheesy but fun way to end the day.

Christoph Sauser and Olympic Champion Jaraslov Kulhavy take the Yellow Jerseys

The stage category winners were announced and leaders' jerseys presented, and then a tribute video to Burry Stander, previous winner of the race, and South Africa's biggest XC star, who died earlier in the year after being hit by a taxi whilst out on a training ride. It was moving and very hard to watch, reminding me so much of Gareth....two young men, both obsessed with riding bikes, although at different levels, both passionate about their sports and with a huge love of life, fun and adventure, taken away from those of us who loved them far too soon. More than a few quiet tears were shed,  both then and whilst lying in my tent that evening. It was a reminder though, that like I'm sure Burry's spirit was there and felt by every person out riding the event, especially his wife, brother and father, I knew Gareth was going to feel close when I needed him to, and he'd be there too when I was smiling and having fun, in the way I know he'd have wanted me too.

It's not every day you get to share a dining hall with the world's elite, reigning and past Olympic and World champions, pro riders and celebrities. Everyone sharing tables, meeting others from around the world and talking about biking. It was a very special atmosphere and one I felt privileged to be experiencing.
I went to bed that night feeling confident and ready to take on anything the Cape Epic could throw at us....or so I thought....

A South African Epic

According to the countdown clock on the website for my next adventure, in just 3 days and 21 hours, I will be setting off with my race partner Dave at the start of the 2013 Absa Cape Epic. (Hmm...really should be doing more packing...)
With 8 days of stage racing (like the Tour de France, you race a set distance each day and everyone stops in the same place each night), 700km of tough off-road riding around Cape Town and the Western Cape, and over 15000m of gruelling climbs, as the event draws nearer, I am becoming increasingly super-excited, and very nervous!

The race has 1200 competitors, and with a massive prize kitty for the pro riders, has this year attracted 7 of the top 10 finishers from the men's cross country mountain biking event at last year's Olympics, not to mention many mountain bike world champions, world cup winners, and all-round super-human athletes...and a few hundred mere mortals such as ourselves!!! The guide for this years route can be found here Cape Epic Route Guide, but I'm trying not to look at it too much as the hill profiles make me feel scared!


It will undoubtedly be an incredible experience, probably up there as one of the hardest physical challenges I have taken on, but a chance to see a part of the world I've never been to before, meet other racers from all over the world, and hopefully take away some fantastic memories. I know from past experience, that if we can make it to the finish, the sense of achievement will be immense, having taken on a challenge that pushes our bodies to beyond what we think is possible, every day, for 8 days...I already know that we will feel broken, physically and mentally, over and over again during the event...but hopefully somehow we will get through that and cross the finish line....fingers crossed....it feels a long way ahead right now!

I don't actually know what part of me it is that makes me drawn to these kind of challenges, even though they normally involve suffering, pain, and are almost always of the "type 2 fun" variety!... Any of my friends who have done any of this kind of event (and there are lots who have done waaaaaay bigger things than this), will know what I mean about being continually being tempted back into doing something that really challenges you...something big enough to think you might not actually be able to do it, and something that most people would think "why on earth would you want to cause yourself that much misery?" It's hard to explain, but I guess part of it is that you are doing something that makes you go beyond what you think you are capable of, to your absolute limits, and how many people can really say they have ever done that? In doing that, and realising that you went through things that would have made most people give up, you gain a huge amount of self-believe, and you really feel alive. You learn things about yourself that you never knew, and would probably never have discovered if you hadn't taken on a challenge like that. If you look at it another way, you could say it's an addiction...the fact that you can't stop wanting to seek out ever bigger challenges, for the adventure, for the adrenalin, for the endorphins, for the satisfaction of completing them.

When I rode from Lands End to John O Groats off-road last May, from about 10 days in to the 23 day trip, I felt tired beyond anything I'd ever experienced before. Exhaustion doesn't even really cover it...I woke up every night drenched in sweat like I had a raging fever, my ankles had become so swollen they were painful, and every morning I would wake up thinking I couldn't possibly get on a bike and cycle another 50-60 miles up seemingly endless hills. But somehow, the first hour of pedalling turned into 2, which became 3, then 4, and before I knew it, feeling just as exhausted as when I'd set off, I'd have reached my destination for the night! I have no idea how I kept going, but funnily enough, looking back now, I don't remember it being anywhere near as bad as it felt at the time...I think that's maybe the real reason I keep taking on challenges...after a while you forget how hard they were at the time!

Anyway, I'm a firm believer that a massive part of endurance challenges, is conquering what's going on in your head. Knowing when to ignore the little voice that's telling you to stop and take a rest because you're tired or your legs hurt and you can't go on. Everybody hurts and suffers on events like the Cape Epic, even the pros, and the people who do well are those that accept that fact, put their head down, and endure the suffering, knowing that it's only temporary!

I think I've found mental challenges like this easier in some ways since I lost Gareth. Because I know that whatever I do, and however hard it is, physically or mentally, nothing is anywhere near as hard as the many many days I've had, and still have, where I have to wake up, and accept that the one person I wanted to spend my whole live with, and who I thought I couldn't live without, has gone. I know the Cape Epic will be tough, but I can guarantee it won't be as tough as that....
Besides, if at any point I start feeling sorry for myself, I'll have Gareth's voice in my head telling me to "MTFU!", and that'll be one I won't try to ignore!

So for anyone who wants to follow the race, there'll be live tracking and coverage on the Cape Epic website from the start on the 17th March:
http://www.cape-epic.com

Wish us luck!

Mmm...hopefully lots of this kind of riding...

And this....

And not too much of this! (wishful thinking)

Or this!!!

For now it's back to packing, and sheltering inside...it's freezing! I seem to have turned soft after a winter of sunny, warm days! Brrrrrr!

A New Blog...

So it's been a while since I wrote a blog, but with so many friends and family asking for updates on where I've been and what I've been up to, I decided it was easier to start another blog that people could follow if they wanted to, rather than trying to keep emailing updates to people!

 I've been pretty hard to track down over the past 15 months....partly because I've found it easier to keep moving around rather than stay in one place. I don't really know where "Home" is anymore...it used to be wherever Gareth was, and where we were together, no matter what adventure we were having, or where in the world that was...but since Gareth died, nowhere feels like home, and after over 9 years of feeling very settled, I doubt I could feel much more unsettled than I do now....so keeping moving has been the answer! 

The other thing I've found I've had to do this last year, is only think of the few weeks or months ahead, and plan to keep those busy with little projects or adventures. Trying to think further ahead than that is still really hard...and if I'm honest, pretty scary. Learning to manage on my own, without Gareth's constant love, support, encouragement and partnership, has not been easy, and thinking of all the future challenges that might lie ahead...well...as I mentioned, it's best not to think too far ahead. One step at a time and all that!

I guess when I think about it I did a lot of stuff to keep busy last year...all sorts of different adventures and little (and some not so little) challenges I set myself to have things to focus on and keep looking forward. A lot of them, like my off-road LEJOG, were things that I'd planned to do with Gareth, and as we were never the kind of people to talk about something and not follow it through, I know we would have completed them together at some point if he were still here. Others were personal challenges I'd always said I'd do, and my philosophy more than ever since Gareth's accident, is to not put off things that you want to do for later, as you never know whether there will be another chance...and last year there was plenty of time to tick off lots of those kind of things! The problem with being someone who likes to push themselves and set themselves challenges though, is that as soon as you complete one, you start planning the next one, or you hear of something else that sounds fun, or an adventure, and that gets added to the list..so it continually keeps growing, with bigger and more exciting plans!

There are some that if I told people about, even good friends, they would question my sanity (they may already do, but not as much as if they heard some of those ideas ;) ), and as the one person I would have suggested them to, who's eyes would have lit up with as much excitement as mine, isn't here to share them with, or at least not to answer when I tell him about them... for now I'll keep them to myself!

As some of you know, this winter's project was a Mountain bike Guiding job out here in Tenerife. I decided in the autumn that the only way I could face going back to work, was to find a job that I loved, and that made me want to go to work each day. As going out riding my bike and setting myself biking challenges was pretty much my coping mechanism throughout last year (it still is now....), I figured if I could find a job where I got to ride my bike every day, see some new places, meet like-minded people who just wanted to have fun riding bikes, and be outside in the mountains...then that'd be a good start. I was a little apprehensive from what others had told me, that if you turn something you love doing in your free time into your job, then you lose all enjoyment from it. I'm pleased to report that frankly, that's rubbish, and whoever said it, obviously didn't really love riding their bike as much as I do!!!

I have found a reason to want to get up in a morning again and face the day, even if I'm feeling pretty low when I first wake up, I know I'll soon be ok when I'm out on my bike. I have a job that not even on a single day have I felt the need to look at my watch to see when it's time to go home. I don't even mind the bad days, because actually, they are never really that bad. I have met some brilliant people and shared stories of epic days on awesome trails. I have sat in the sun, looking down and silently sharing the views to the sea from rocky trails high on the mountainside. I have witnessed guests who have pushed their limits and seen their skills improve from riding trails they didn't think they could. I have seen people smile and whoop their way down dry dusty trails, and breathlessly tell me at the bottom how they narrowly avoided the huge cactus that leapt out at them, and soooooo nearly lost it on that sketchy corner...and even though I ride the same trails every couple of weeks, they are always different, and always fun, because you ride them with different people, in different conditions, and no day is ever the same Seeing guests smiling and enjoying themselves, knowing they have had a fantastic day, gives you a really satisfying feeling that you have been part of making that experience what it was, and helping them create memories they can look back on and think "That was a wicked day"...

I like my job :)

Snow at the start of the trail

Mojitos - A well recognised form of recovery drink ;)

Taking off from the top of Mt Teide (3718m)!

 Me and Rosa at El Refugio

Derek, Paul, Rosa and I, celebrating a rad descent of Contador's 101 switchbacks (ie still all in one piece!)

 James, me, Esther and Susan- finishing a ride at the beach :)

In guiding mode - how many people enjoy themselves this much at work?!

I wish I could tell Gareth all about it at the end of each day, or be riding with him, but I know he's never really very far away, and I can often picture him waiting for me at the bottom of the trail, or racing me up the hill, or turning round after a tricky section to check if I rode it clean, saying "hmm...not bad for a girl!"

At the Sunshine Coast, BC, August 2011

Anyway, after being out here since November, its now just 6 days until I leave...hard to believe its gone so fast! But the next adventure beckons.....more on that next time ;)