When I returned from Lisbon I was met with the welcome news my new chair had arrived from Japan, not a minute too soon as I have been struggling with my old chair. My old chair had been braking in most races and was costing me a bomb in welding services! My new chair was ordered and measured up by the British company Draft, they built my old chairs but have started to get a reputation for delaying chairs heavily. The lads at draft are great and I like their chairs but I needed a new chair as fast as posible so I decided to get them to order me one from OX in Japan.
As soon as I went to draft to pick my chair up I knew I was going to like it. It looks brilliant and when I tested it out in the car park it felt amazing! I had just 15 days to get used to my new chair before the London. My first few pushes were promising, I was slower climbing but I was much faster on the flats and downhills. I needed to find the right positing for me to sit in to get the most power out of each push. My new chair is a solid kneeler which means I kneel on a solid metal plate, my old chair was a soft kneeler where you kneel in a sling. The solid kneelers are much more efficient because they flex less each time you push, more of the force is transfered through the wheels and into the ground producing faster speeds. The problem I have is that I can still feel my legs, I had been told by coaches, that pretend they know more than they do, that I would never be able to kneel at all let alone in a solid kneeler. After being told that I had always thought I was pushing my luck by getting a soft kneeler. Now I have a solid kneeler I know those coaches were talking out of their backsides! The solid kneeler is much more comfortable and I'm glad I picked it.
The last 9 days before London wasn't great as I had three punctures to deal with. I ended up going out pushing on the dodgy front tyre I'd had to change before the Lisbon Half, it was fine on the first push but the second time I used it I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a learner bus driver who had thrown the anchor out when he saw a car on the opposite side of the road. Where do they find these people? Anyway, within 3 miles my tyre had punctured. Miles from home, with no spare and no phone. I saw two women stood chatting whilst having their cars cleaned so I went and asked to borrow their phone the only problem was I could remember my mum's home number and no others, she wasn't in. Bloody great. So I started pushing home but the roads in Rossendale are awful and I was scared I was going to do some real damage to my wheel. Front wheels cost around £700 so you can see why I was worried! After 4 miles I decided to pop in to the local cycle shop Ride On, these lads are always really helpful when I pop in for bits and pieces. They were soon crowded round my chair debating if they could fix it and how to attempt it. The tyre had completely had it, there was a patch without any rubber left on it and this is where it had blown so when the lads tried forcing the anti puncture solution into the tyre it ran straight back out. They tried a couple more ways to repair it but it was having none of it so the situation called for drastic measures. Out came the gaffer tape, they wrapped it round tight and put some more solution in to the tyre. They then managed to get about 40 psi in the tyre which was enough to protect the wheel from Rossendale's nasty road surface. I headed home gently trying not to rip the tape. I got to about 200m from home and had to use my brake which ripped the tape off and gave me a face full of gunk! I returned to ride on the next day with a box of chocolates for the lads as a thank you.
The next few days were an anxious wait for the delivery of my new tyres, I didn't have any spares so I had to train on my handcycle instead of in my chair. They turned up the day before I travelled down to London for the marathon. Talk about a close shave! That day was spent changing tyres, packing my bag and getting a massage on my back. The mother came to get Bonnie my dog as she was dog sitting for me. Then I tried to sleep but I was too excited/nervous so I barely slept at all. Me and dad set off for London early on the Friday, I wanted to get checked in and then travel across London to the Marathon exhibition.
The runners have to attend the exhibition to collect their race numbers but the wheelchairs do not need to go, I just like to as it reminds me of when I used t o go and watch dad race. It gets me in the mind frame to race in one of the biggest events in the world. At the exhibition you get plenty of freebies and good deals on new kit and nutritional supplements, you also get info on other races around the world. I got a few good ideas for events, watch this space! We ended up going for a Singaporean meal then crashed out early, knackered from travelling and shopping at the exhibition.
On Saturday we went to the Victoria and Albert museum, true to form as soon as we entered the building I had a drama. My bloody caster flew off my chair, I think I must have damaged it on my way to the museum. I was lucky not to have been thrown out of my chair into some priceless sculpture but I was unlucky in the fact I couldn't see the bolt that holds the wheel on anywhere. I got out of my chair and started to look, dad was on his hands and knees and soon he was joined by several other, middle aged folk crawling along the floor looking for my missing bolt. I must have been a lovely shade of red, talk about embarrassing! Eventually the museum staff radioed the maintenance man and he found some spare bolts and washers to temporarily fix my chair. We then got on with our museum visit. My sister, ugly to you and me, and her boyfriend arrived in London and met up with us at the museum. There are some brilliant sights in the V&A it's a shame we wasted an hour and a half sorting my caster out!
As soon as I went to draft to pick my chair up I knew I was going to like it. It looks brilliant and when I tested it out in the car park it felt amazing! I had just 15 days to get used to my new chair before the London. My first few pushes were promising, I was slower climbing but I was much faster on the flats and downhills. I needed to find the right positing for me to sit in to get the most power out of each push. My new chair is a solid kneeler which means I kneel on a solid metal plate, my old chair was a soft kneeler where you kneel in a sling. The solid kneelers are much more efficient because they flex less each time you push, more of the force is transfered through the wheels and into the ground producing faster speeds. The problem I have is that I can still feel my legs, I had been told by coaches, that pretend they know more than they do, that I would never be able to kneel at all let alone in a solid kneeler. After being told that I had always thought I was pushing my luck by getting a soft kneeler. Now I have a solid kneeler I know those coaches were talking out of their backsides! The solid kneeler is much more comfortable and I'm glad I picked it.
The last 9 days before London wasn't great as I had three punctures to deal with. I ended up going out pushing on the dodgy front tyre I'd had to change before the Lisbon Half, it was fine on the first push but the second time I used it I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a learner bus driver who had thrown the anchor out when he saw a car on the opposite side of the road. Where do they find these people? Anyway, within 3 miles my tyre had punctured. Miles from home, with no spare and no phone. I saw two women stood chatting whilst having their cars cleaned so I went and asked to borrow their phone the only problem was I could remember my mum's home number and no others, she wasn't in. Bloody great. So I started pushing home but the roads in Rossendale are awful and I was scared I was going to do some real damage to my wheel. Front wheels cost around £700 so you can see why I was worried! After 4 miles I decided to pop in to the local cycle shop Ride On, these lads are always really helpful when I pop in for bits and pieces. They were soon crowded round my chair debating if they could fix it and how to attempt it. The tyre had completely had it, there was a patch without any rubber left on it and this is where it had blown so when the lads tried forcing the anti puncture solution into the tyre it ran straight back out. They tried a couple more ways to repair it but it was having none of it so the situation called for drastic measures. Out came the gaffer tape, they wrapped it round tight and put some more solution in to the tyre. They then managed to get about 40 psi in the tyre which was enough to protect the wheel from Rossendale's nasty road surface. I headed home gently trying not to rip the tape. I got to about 200m from home and had to use my brake which ripped the tape off and gave me a face full of gunk! I returned to ride on the next day with a box of chocolates for the lads as a thank you.
The next few days were an anxious wait for the delivery of my new tyres, I didn't have any spares so I had to train on my handcycle instead of in my chair. They turned up the day before I travelled down to London for the marathon. Talk about a close shave! That day was spent changing tyres, packing my bag and getting a massage on my back. The mother came to get Bonnie my dog as she was dog sitting for me. Then I tried to sleep but I was too excited/nervous so I barely slept at all. Me and dad set off for London early on the Friday, I wanted to get checked in and then travel across London to the Marathon exhibition.
The runners have to attend the exhibition to collect their race numbers but the wheelchairs do not need to go, I just like to as it reminds me of when I used t o go and watch dad race. It gets me in the mind frame to race in one of the biggest events in the world. At the exhibition you get plenty of freebies and good deals on new kit and nutritional supplements, you also get info on other races around the world. I got a few good ideas for events, watch this space! We ended up going for a Singaporean meal then crashed out early, knackered from travelling and shopping at the exhibition.
On Saturday we went to the Victoria and Albert museum, true to form as soon as we entered the building I had a drama. My bloody caster flew off my chair, I think I must have damaged it on my way to the museum. I was lucky not to have been thrown out of my chair into some priceless sculpture but I was unlucky in the fact I couldn't see the bolt that holds the wheel on anywhere. I got out of my chair and started to look, dad was on his hands and knees and soon he was joined by several other, middle aged folk crawling along the floor looking for my missing bolt. I must have been a lovely shade of red, talk about embarrassing! Eventually the museum staff radioed the maintenance man and he found some spare bolts and washers to temporarily fix my chair. We then got on with our museum visit. My sister, ugly to you and me, and her boyfriend arrived in London and met up with us at the museum. There are some brilliant sights in the V&A it's a shame we wasted an hour and a half sorting my caster out!
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| Me sat in the V&A whilst everyone looked for my bolt! |
That evening we had the technical meeting, I hate the London Marathon technical meetings, we are split up from the best guys. Our hotel is a complete shit hole and we are charged £150 a night which doesn't even include breakfast or wifi. As well as getting an awful hotel we get officials that don't have a clue. This year's antics at the technical meeting included some poison dwarf threatening to disqualify me for folding the number which was to be taped to the side of the main shaft of my chair. For some ridiculous reason they give us numbers the same size as the ones the runners wear on their vests, they have grown to around 9 inches high nowadays as they have become advertising boards for the race sponsors logo. The main shaft of my chair is 3 inches high. How the fuck did the poison dwarf expect me to tape a 9 inch high number to a 3 inch high part of my chair without folding it? Any sensible race organisers would provide an extra, small sticky number like the ones we use on our helmet so we can stick that on the chair, simple, problem solved!
When I told the poison dwarf that we never have these problems at races like the Lisbon Half marathon she anounced that was because "They didn't know what they were doing!" She then proudly introduced some doddering old git as a member of the international paralympic committee technical delegation. I couldn't be arsed arguing with them so I just got on with what I was doing, about 5 min later my dad asked "is that safe?" and pointed at the poison dwarf and the doddering old git who were covering John Smith's front wheel in gaffer tape. They were trying to cover the wheel manufacturer's name and logo up. I pointed out that the technical delegate and the woman who thinks the Lisbon organisers 'don't know what they are doing' should really know better about sticking gaffer tape around the front wheel. They didn't have a clue what I was talking about until I pointed out that if John pressed his break the tape was going to get wrapped around it and cause a crash. The poison dwarf then protested that he'd not be allowed to race with the wheel unless the advertising was covered with tape. "Do you have shares in gaffer tape? Why can't he just peel the manufacturer's sticker off like the rest of us do?" Was my answer to her. Absolutely unbelievable, this is supposed to be our country's premier road race and they can't even find officials who could run a successful school sports day. After the usual battles with the officials they did their little safety speech which was identical to last year. We found out the buses left at 6:30 am for the start and with that Ugly left for her hotel as her and her boyfriend would have to leave their hotel at 5:30 am to reach me in time to travel to the start with me.
The rest of us were fed and I was amazed that the food was much better than last year, it was only lasagne but it was good. Pudding was a really rich chocolate tart, John didn't like it, Martyna wasn't keen but if they had have offered I would have eaten theirs as well as my own. We had a good laugh around the table particularly when I'd been asking if anybody had a spare washer for my dodgy caster and Martyna, who's English is normally better than mine, asked "what's a washer? Do you mean a sponge?" Haha! I can't really take the piss because I can't speak a word of Polish. We all arranged to wake each other up if we didn't arrive for breakfast in the morning and then headed off to bed.
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