Several weeks now have passed since I attempted the GBDuro. A 2000km self-supported bike race from Lands’ End to John O’Groats. But the GB Duro is not your bog-standard Lands’ end to John O’Groats. The race meanders through some of the most specular but challenging landscapes the UK has to offer; on and off road. Some say ‘gravel’…I’d say take your mountain bike for some of the sections! Though the On One Free Ranger was the perfect tool for the variation in terrain, and I am incredibly grateful to Planet bike for sponsoring me with this bike for the event. It was an absolute dream to ride, tackling the off road and road with ease and grit.
The use of hotels is discouraged, and you must carry all the kit you need on your bike. This includes your sleeping and cooking equipment and any other essential items you will need for the journey. So, the bike ends up being rather laden and heavy, especially if you decide to carry the kitchen sink like me!
I got to Manchester, around 900km in 4 days, before I decided to scratch. I made a number of rookie errors in the preparation, equipment and strategy of the race which meant I completely broke myself and ended up in a whole world of trouble by the time I had reached Manchester. This included poor gearing choice which my knees (and quads) resented me for; carrying way too much kit; stopping to sleep; starting the race already burnt out; and using mountain bike XC races to train for the event/ not really having the time for training due to work commitments!
The night before getting to Manchester I had rolled into Chester completed depleted of energy. I had had a plan in my mind all day having felt unwell that I would stop at a hotel in Chester when I got there to recoup and have a wash. So I focused on getting through the 100 miles that day with the hotel as my reward. In my angst about not making the checkpoints in time combined with the Hooper race head mentality; I had not only overcooked it, but had also failed to fuel and hydrate myself properly, which had caught up with me spectacularly. My stomach had been struggling to accept the smallest amount of food I had tried to take in due to the exertion on my body, and this combined with sleep deprivation was taking its toll in a big way. In addition, the saddle sore had got so bad, the skin was broken and bleeding and I could barely sit down without pangs of searing pain; my concern was also the risk of infection and knew it was imperative I took time to wash and clean the sores. However, when I arrived in Chester around 10pm that night there were no rooms available…anywhere. After an unsuccessful attempt at pleading the receptionist of the third hotel where I had tried to get a room, to let me sleep in the store cupboard; I accepted the situation. With all restaurants shut I needed some time to stop, think and make a plan. So, I knocked on the door of Pizza Express who were closed and spent 10 minutes desperately begging them to let me in and scrape a meal together for me from the days left-overs. I felt a familiar sense of loneliness as I sat in the empty restaurant, covered in 3 days or muck, grime, salt; and emanating some interesting odours representative of eau du crusty sweat carefully intersected with wholesome fruity manure from traipsing through a whole host of terrain over the past few days. I knew my options were limited. I had been wild camping every night in remote places up to here, but sleeping in a park in the middle of Chester with the prospect of my bike being swiped wasn’t really a choice I wanted to consider. My Garmin navigational device battery was low, and so was my phone battery. I’d been having issues with my dynamo wheel used to charge my electronics whilst riding, which had become a real problem. So, I sat and ate the remnants of the pasta placed in front of me as slowly as I could to allow my phone and Garmin to charge as much as possible using the plug I had found next to the table. Having shamelessly maximized my stay, I began to reluctantly peel myself from the seat, and got myself into the street with my bike. I switched the Garmin on finding comfort in the familiar little beep as it came alive, and somehow began to pedal the legs and follow the arrow on the screen cycling into the darkness of the night. As I started to edge out of town the route took me through poorly lit graffiti strewn subways along a cycle path, which eventually disappeared behind me as the area became more rural. Around 6 miles out of town still on the cycle path I came across the silhouettes of a group of teenage lads. I felt a mild panic start to fill my body. What were these lads doing in the middle of no where late at night? Though I am sure they were as perplexed coming across me in the blackness of the night. As I passed them there was silence, and the waft of marijuana tickled my nostrils as I rolled through a cloud of smoke they had created. I continued for a further few miles, joining a country lane soon deciding to stop at the first suitable looking hedge to get my head down for a few hours. I recall very clearly the nausea and dizziness I felt throughout the night, and the panic searing through my body that my phone battery was so low it was likely to be questionable at best that I would be able to call for medical attention if required.
I aimed to get my usual 3-4 hours’ sleep as I had always planned with this event. I woke up at 2, 3 and then 4am. At which point I decided to get myself the 45 miles to Manchester, and find a hotel to try and rest enough to allow me to be able to continue. This ended up being the slowest and most painful 45 miles I have ever cycled. Despite this being the flattest section of the route so far, I could barely cycle a few minutes without having to stop and rest, hunching over my bike each time in complete exhaustion. My face had swelled up like a balloon, and I was struggling to gasp enough air. I eventually made it to Manchester. Got into a hotel around mid-morning, and lay on the bed for the rest of the day unable to move. After reflecting all day on whether I should continue I knew the only real answer if I wanted to avoid another hospital admission this year was to scratch. I knew my body was warning me I had to stop, and so I made the difficult decision to get the train home the next day.
It’s interesting isn’t it, reflecting on ‘failure’. But failure is often a key educational stepping stone in the journey to success. The greatest mistake is the fear of making one, and not even trying in the first place.
I spent many years thinking I was not good enough, struggling with self-esteem and confidence; and missing a whole host of opportunities. Comfort and safety are nice, but nothing ever grows there. Three years ago, I used a life changing event to start a fresh and flipped my mindset; I embraced the things I wanted to do, regardless of how inexperienced or risky that may be, or the risk of ‘failure’. Often, I have surprised myself with outcomes I could never have imagined. Somethings didn’t work out how I had planned, but I still learnt a lot from them, and could use these as key learning experiences which I apply to achieving my goals and dreams. This approach has enabled me to overcome a number of challenges I have faced in the past three years. It’s amazing what you can achieve when you believe in yourself, and adopt a growth mindset. We always have more inside us than we realise. More strength, more compassion, more resilience.
The euphoric highs and lows of the GB Duro will provide me with a warm glow of memories for years to come. I recall moments on the GB Duro where I could barely find the strength to open a gate and get my bike through; then somehow found it in myself to cycle another 40, 50, 100+ miles. There were other moments where I found myself completely exhausted and alone in remote places in the hills and mountains, in the blackness of night; powering through the howling wind and rain. This was alongside the stark dichotomy of riding into awe inspiring sunrises and sunsets; rolling along under the magical blanket of stars, and being blown away by a constant stream of astounding views that quite literally took my breath away. Not to mention the amazing support from all those that came to cheer us on at all times of day and night; the jiggling of bells, whistles and shouts excitement filled me with motivation, and created such a momentous and joyful atmosphere for which I am very grateful for and will always remember. The special moments shared with fellow competitors, and incredible individuals, also made this event for me. Sat having dinner at the check point discussing each others adventures; gleefully enjoying a snack at a road side greasy shack with Alice, riding along chatting and giggling to competitors every now again at random sections along the journey.
Experiences like these are invaluable in growing ourselves and building strength and resilience, and in their application to all areas of our lives. I am lucky in that I have had many opportunities to take part in incredible events and races such as the GB Duro. Though I am a great believer in the concept of creating your own luck; by taking a leap in one direction, many other doors of opportunities can start to open. Equally I have had a whole host of challenging life experiences in recent years, which I have chosen to reflect and learn from. It’s a strange paradox that many of the clearest and poignant life lessons are learnt when we are at our lowest. Real transformation and growth occur through hardship and challenge. It is through these life experiences we learn.
Whilst I may not have got to John O’Groats, I had an incredible experience with memories I can reflect on for many years. This was a journey I knew I needed to do, to put many of my recent experiences into perspective, no matter how far I got. That is what I did. So maybe I did well and truly burn the candle at both ends this year. Attempting the GB Duro, racing Elite in the National series and various XC races, and working full time as well as securing a huge job promotion. I did this alongside various hardships which I won't share in any detail here, but some of which included a big accident in April whereby I was admitted to hospital and was left concussed for several weeks; then shortly after this another crash leaving me with a fractured wrist which I splinted and continued to race XC with; as well as some other health issues. But actually when I reflect on this, its these hardships that fuel my grit and determination more. Each time something happens I seem to become even more driven. Some people have a certain level of hunger and drive that sets them apart from the crowd, and I think challenging situations tend to enable you to see things from a different perspective and with a whole new level of gratitude, appreciation and determination.
I had a lot of fun and learnt a great deal in this process, of how I might approach and refine things moving forward. Now that's what I call an 'education'! So, onto the next Hooper project equipped with the skills and knowledge I have gained the experiences I am lucky enough to have had, which will no doubt be invaluable in the art of preparation when embracing the next challenge. I would like to say a huge heart felt thank you to all those who sent me messages and words of encouragement in the run up to, and following this event. I really am very touched by everyone's kind words. Thank you and keep smiling :-)