Running short of time

The picture left doesn't have much to do with cycling but it is what has kept me from my bike and training for the last week. Not the space shuttle's final farewell over the Golden Gate Bridge. That was just a happy coincidence of timing with my company's management meeting in San Francisco, the trip for which was the cause of me missing out on riding.

Our US office is actually just over the bay from the city in Sausalito, and sits at the foothills of some tremendous scenery and cycling. Sadly, despite the kind offers from my local colleagues to organise me a ride or two, it simply wasn't practical to take 3 or 4 hours out from the few days of my trip for a decent ride. Running is not my favourite form of exercise, it probably wouldn't even come second on the list. It is very efficient on time though, and luggage space too. So instead of helmet, cycle shoes and pedals, I crammed new sneakers and two pairs of running gear into my already bulging suitcase.

Anyone who has flown long distance will be all too familiar with being wide-awake in the small hours of the morning, however tiring the previous day's travelling.  I may already have mentioned that I'm not the keenest of runners, but after having gone through all my emails and news items, it was definitely preferable to trashy hotel TV or another hour of trying to get back to sleep. Knowing all this in advance, I had made a definite plan to go out for a short run the Tuesday morning after my arrival. I'd even checked what time sunrise was, in order that the return leg would be accompanied by the first rays of morning light over the bay. I  just wasn't completely sure I'd actually do it, until I found myself outside the hotel at 5:45am.

The first few minutes were predictably uncomfortable, not having done any significant running for many years, and wearing brand new, unbroken in sneakers. My goal was to run against time rather than distance, to see if I could keep up a steady pace for an hour without stopping or walking. Over the first few blocks I made the mistake of looking at my watch far too often, and time seemed to be passing even more slowly than my feet were moving. Gradually though I got control of my breathing and settled into a manageable work rate. The half hour turnaround mark coincided exactly with the rise of highway 101 bridge across the spur of the bay near Mill Valley. And, just as planned, the first strides back were greeted with the faint grey hint of dawn. I must confess to feeling rather smug with my timing, and smugger still as I rounded the last curve and the hotel and more importantly Poggios, the coffee shop next door, came into view. I might have managed my first full hour of continuous road running for more than five years, but being a cyclist at heart there was no way I was going back for a shower without a cappuccino and a muffin.

I'd every good intention of running the same route again on the Thursday morning of my trip, but our company dinner and too many glasses of wine on Wednesday evening banished that little idea. I did make up for it on the Friday morning though, covering the 8.3km of the same route this time in 54 minutes, 6 minutes quicker than my effort on Tuesday. I wasn't consciously trying to beat the time, but feeling strong I inevitably ran a lot faster on both the leg out and back.

The only annoying part of both runs was seeing so many guys out cycling. It would have been great to have had time to join them on two wheels. All the more so because cyclists are giving so much more space and respect in the US than home in SA. A situation all too sadly emphasized in the last two weeks, with one cyclist knocked down by a motorist and two hijacked, all on our regular training routes around Somerset West and Stellenbosch. It's a shame with such great cycling and so many enthusiastic riders here at home that we seem to be playing a game of Russian roulette against drivers and criminals every time we go out to ride. Worse is that the local law enforcement seem unable or uninterested in doing anything against the situation. I guess in the grand scheme of their challenges, cyclists are just one small part but that doesn't help those knocked down, injured, and robbed of their bikes.

America may have waved goodbye to the shuttle and NASA handed the space race over to private consortia, but they do at least make it reasonably safe for their citizens to enjoy a much older and more peaceful example of transportation technology, the bicycle.

Top of the mountain

My Garmin was reading 51km as our group of riders paused briefly to agree the rendezvous point before we tackled the pass ahead. We'd done about 3 or 4km of very gradual incline since leaving the Paarl but the real work was still ahead. The Garmin would roll forward another 30km before we would all met up again at this spot.

Despite a number of fellow riders re-assuring me that Du Toitskloof Pass was long but not steep, I was very definitely daunted. In fact I'd been nervous at the prospect for the last  few days - I didn't have any doubts that I would make it, but I was much less confident how much would be left in my legs afterwards to deal with the remaining 50km to home once the climb was behind us.

My nervousness wasn't helped by a nasty crash in our bunch earlier that morning, less than 10km into the ride. The warning signal for a pothole hadn't passed back to the tail of the group and Des went down as his front wheel pitched into it. John was close on his wheel and, being unable to avoid the fallen rider, ran into him, somersaulting bike and all to an equally hard landing on the road just beyond. Des immediately pulled out but somehow John rode on for a few kilometres. Frankly I'd have been too battered to continue but John either knows how to fall better or is just plain tougher than me. Sadly his bike wasn't so tough and it soon became evident that his rear derailleur was too badly broken to continue, forcing a second early retirement before we'd even reached Stellenbosch. As if that weren't enough, to cap off my unease was the knowledge that the temperature was forecast to be over 30 degrees by the time we started the return leg. And that forecast was for Somerset West, Paarl is frequently hotter by several degrees.

The moment was here though - no longer any point worrying, it was time to get cracking and get the job done. Having driven the road a few times before I already knew what a majestic sweep of tarmac lay before us, and how fabulous the views over the Paarl winelands were for the whole of the journey to the top. So if the legs or lungs started to falter, a quick glance at the jawdropping scenery to the left should at least provide a mental boost to my efforts. The downside of having driven the pass before was knowing exactly where the top was, and it's appearance high up on the distant hillside was a sobering sight.

Over the first couple of kilometres I was surprised to find myself not far off the leading group, but I knew that would not last even before Penny commented that they'd start accelerating soon. As the road swung right into the cool shadow of the deep horseshoe corner before it's straight ascent up the side of the mountain, I dropped a gear and settled back into a steady pace which I hoped would be sustainable for the rest of the climb. Even before the road swept back left out of the hairpin both the lead group and Penny were already matchstick figures across the widening gap, and I began what I imagined would be a solo battle to the top against the sudden blasts of a gusting wind. I was wrong though.

"Latch on Rob", came a friendly call from Paul and Alita as they passed me.

"I think I'll just need to grind this one out to the top", I replied and prepared to watch them slowly disappear as well.

I'm not sure what changed to be honest. A couple of minutes went by and they were a few metres ahead. A few minutes more though, and the elastic semed to have stopped stretching. I don't really remember altering my cadence, or shifting gears, but I must have because I gradually began to reel the distance back in. Without really intending too, I reached Alita's wheel and latched on. I doubted I'd be able to stay with them the whole way, but I resolved to do my best to hang on as far as I could. I wasn't sure the guys had realised I had kept up until Paul called back a few minutes later:

"Doing ok Rob?"

"Yes thanks Paul, hanging in for now I think. Not sure I'll be with you all the way but appreciated the help" I responded. Maybe I hadn't really caught them, maybe without looking back, Paul had slowed ever so slightly to encourage me join them. Either way, I was very grateful of the company.

Just as John, Penny, and everyone had predicted, the climb wasn't steep. It was relentless though, and long. I forget which of us remarked first on how cool it was to be tackling a climb of similar length to those you see on mountain stages of the Tour de France, albeit with a considerably kinder gradient and lower summit. I also remembering commenting that I'd been looking forward to this ride for weeks, although now I was actually on it, sweating and puffing like a broken steam engine, I wasn't quite sure why.

Somewhere, I'd guess it was a little beyond half way, we caught up with Graham, and as we briefly became four riders I decided I had to at least make some token gesture of helping the cause and took the lead. We dropped our pace a little but, struggling with a chest cold, Graham told us he wanted to go at his own pace and we must push on ahead. I picked up the pace again, and stayed at the front for a little while longer.

Some time later we saw a group of bikers parked on the left, and it wasn't until I saw the road's final sweep right across rather than up the hill, and noticed two of our riders under the shade of the tree that I realised we'd reached the top. It had taken about an hour to get there, but the company, the views, and the steady effort, had compressed time so much that it actually seemed like just a few minutes.

"Made it" was the simple text I sent to Yoli, with a photo attached just to prove it. Behind those two words though was a great sense of relief and more than a little satisfaction at having ticked off this fabulous climb from my list of must-do rides.

After a quick stop for a breather we started the rewarding blast back down. Even at my cautious pace, it took less than 20 minutes, but in another bizarre warp of time and space the journey down seemed to be about twice the distance of the route we'd cycled up.

The ride home was in fact hotter than the forecast had promised, and I was very glad of the stop in Paarl to fill up water bottles. A couple of weeks back I started upping the calorie quota in my energy drink bottle, which definitely helped keep me going longer and stronger over the last stretches of the ride home. We'd kept together well as a group on the way out and the initial stretches home through Paarl, but our pace quickened along the later stages of the R101 back to the four way stop at Klapmuts. Without John's leadership, the inevitable happened and the group split was we started along the R44. I just about clung on to the fast bunch to the top of the Wiesenhof hill, but with 30km still to go I knew my legs would last at their pace, and so once again I settled in to what I imagined would be a solo effort home. 

Again I was wrong, and again it was Paul who proved it. This time he was ahead of me but as we reached the outskirts of Stellenbosch I realised I'd steadily been gaining on him, and with the gap down to less than a hundred  metres I put in a few quick turns on the cranks.

"Not much left in the legs, I reckon it's time to take it easy for this last bit" I said as I pulled alongside.

Paul hardly had time to respond, before another rider, also called John, joined us and again we were three for the last small effort home. I was pleasantly surprised how little pain and cramping I was suffering and how much I had left in my legs for the last ramps up Yonder Hill and then Irene Avenue. I'd paced my effort well over the 130km and finished tired, but not exhausted and only a little sore.

Du Toitskloof Pass had not disappointed either. It took more than two centuries from the original idea for the pass in 1725, to it's completion in 1945. Numerous passes with lesser engineering challenges were built in the interim, including the nearby and equally majestic Bainskloof which is also high on my must-do list of rides. Having been superceded in 1988 by the Huguenot Tunnel, the pass now seems to be mostly used by trucks, presumably looking to avoid the toll, and bikers enjoying the thrill of speeding through the snaking corners. And of course cyclists like ourselves this weekend, looking for thrills of a more energetic kind.

Not all about me

It's been in the back of my mind for quite a while that as well as the fun and exercise I get from cycling events I could, perhaps even should, be using them to raise funds for charity as well. A couple of things which have happened this year have prompted me to actually act on this rather than keep forgetting about it or putting it off.

Over the last 12 months both Yoli's and my mother were diagnosed with breast cancer. Both of them have had to undergo some fairly harsh treatments, but it's been an enormous relief that the outlook for both of them is now looking very positive. Even with the advances in modern medicine that have significantly boosted the survival rates, early detection is still  one of the most important factors. The Pink Drive is a South African charity which aims to help with just that by providing access to breast cancer education and screening to women in disadvantaged communities.

The other fund raising motivation came about through our friend Marleen. For the last couple of year's she's tried to get together a charity team through her work, but for one reason of other it hasn't quite come about. This year though she managed to mobilise people much earlier, and contacted me a few weeks back asking to add my name to their charity group entry for the 2013 Cape Argus. Anyone reading this blog will know how much the Argus means to me, so I immediately said yes to Marleen's invite. The charity which they have chosen is The Pebbles Project, raising money for disadvantages kids in our area.

Over the course of a couple of months I'd gone from a vague notion that maybe I should be pedalling for a cause to having two that I felt personally connected with. This created something of a dilemma for me: I've no qualms about asking friends and colleagues to sponsor me for a good cause; but I didn't want to canvas the same people twice in quick succession with pleas for support. It took me a little while before the obvious dawned on me. Rather than raise money through one or two cycling events, why not make the scope bigger and roll all of my planned cycling events for the next year together into one big cycling project. The choice of which of the two charities to sponsor would then be left to each individual according to which they feel the most desire to support.

So that's how the "2,000km for something other than just me" project came about - raising money for both causes through riding in the following events over the next year:

• 14 Oct 2012: PPA One Tonner, 156km
• 24 Nov 2012: Coronation Double Century, 202km
• Feb 2013: 99er, 110km
• 10 Mar 2013: Cape Argus Cycle Tour, 108km
• 28 Jul - 2 Aug 2013: London Edinburgh London, 1418km

As anyone who cycles will know, 2,000km in a year is not actually very much - less than 40km a week, which is not much more than an average commute to work. But of course the above are just the actual events. Training rides over that period may well come to another 10,000km of cycling on top of the actual events - or to think of it another way, the distance from here in Cape Town back to London. So sadly I won't be taking it easy on the couch between the above rides.

If you'd like to join me on any of the above rides - it'd be great to have some company along all those kilometres. But regardless of whether cycling is your thing, I'd really appreciate you supporting one of the two causes I'll be raising money for:

2,000Km for Pink Drive
2,000Km for Pebbles Project

Thanks.