Lands End to John O'Groats, Day 18 - Pelted by Drawing Pins.

Day 18 Morning

I'd slept much better on the night of Day 17, which meant I woke up on Day 18 in a better mood. I was still tired, I'd woken up a few times during the night with rib pain but waking up a few times is far better than being awake all night! My target for the day was to get to Inverness or just beyond as that would leave me a good chance of finishing after another three days pushing which would be 21 days and a whole week ahead of schedule. Looking at the map over breakfast to check the route and where we thought might be a good place for lunch and where we might need to book a campsite. Whilst looking at the map it suddenly clicked why Inverness had its name, I like to think that I'd fairly bright and pick things up quite quickly. I have to admit that I didn't even know that Inverness was near Loch Ness until I was looking at the map that morning! I'd been noticing  places with the 'Inver' and 'Firth' prefix anytime we got close to the coast in Scotland. The penny finally dropped that an Inver was an estuary or river mouth and a Firth was a narrow area of sea between two bits of land. So Inverness was where the River Ness which runs through Loch Ness meets the sea. I'm not sure if Ed already knew that but he humoured me as I told him my discovery anyway.

Getting underway on day 18!

  We were going to be on the A9 all day again which made us all a little nervous especially getting closer to Inverness. The A9 was a really busy road. We were pretty sure all the traffic must have been heading to Inverness as there is nothing much north of the city in terms of built up areas. When we got going on our push I was actually surprised how quiet it was.

Quiet A9 climb during the morning push.

I had a nice start to the day with a one and a half mile downhill, the Scottish tarmac was vibrating the chair like mad so instead of pushing to try and get a fast speed I decided to put weight on my handlebars which helps keep the front wheel on the ground and allows the chair to work properly. I didn't want to be fighting for speed in the first mile of the push. Despite not even pushing my wheels the descent had gotten me over 30mph which is always a nice figure to see on the speedo.
After that initial drop I was then climbing for 15 tough miles. Ant seemed to have a new confidence in shouting me on. He was brilliant all morning, I'm not sure what had made the change, maybe it was just learning from Ed but I think maybe he was just feeling more confident we would both get to the finish line. If we did make the finish Ant would have cycled around 350 miles which is not easy from someone who really isn't sporty.

On another climb

  The long climb was followed by a nice 5 mile long downhill section that was broken by only one short flat and one half mile climb. The long downhill took me past the tiny village of Tomatin which is home to a famous distillery of the same name. Its an odd little place, surrounded by beautiful but rugged hills and mountains but Tomatin sits in a picturesque green valley, it looks like the grasslands of the south of England not the Scottish Highlands! Two bridges cross the valley, an old railway bridge and a modern road bridge. The views were great from the  road bridge.

The green valley at Tomatin

I wanted to have a geek fest over the views with Ed and Ant but unfortunately I'd just dropped them both on the long descent and they didn't catch me up until I was working my way through the undulating climbs over the next mile or so. We were soon back in rugged countryside and passing pine plantations near Loch Moy.

Just keep pushing.

Ed being special.

  I decided to stop for lunch at almost 26 miles so 3 miles over my target for the morning, I was happy with that in the Highlands as I thought going too far over target up there would be a bit difficult with all of the hills. I was 10 miles from Inverness so I might be able to get myself 5 miles past my target by evening time. As we didn't have anything other than beans on toast on the lunch front I opted for cereal instead. There was no way I was going to be able to stomach more beans!
 My dad got chatting to some old guy in the layby about his antique bike that Ed was riding, he kept coming back and knocking on the motorhome window to start yet another conversation with dad. Ant, Ed and I were in stiches laughing at my dad being stalked by the most boring man on earth, he was a right Norris Cole wannabe. I didn't rescue my dad though, it'll teach him not to talk to strangers in laybys! haha!

Lunch Break.

Day 18 Morning Stats

Miles: 25.9
Time: 2:27:39
Average Moving Speed: 10.5mph
Top Speed: 35.7mph
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 14 - 9:28
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 20 - 2:29
Total Ascent: 1026ft
Average Heart Rate: 143bpm
Max Heart Rate: 160bpm

Day 18 Morning Progress Maps

Day 18 Afternoon

I had made sure dad had the shopping list before we set off on the afternoon push in the sunshine. We had looked on the map for the closest retail park and given dad instructions to head to it as early as possible so he would be back with us before too long. Ed and Ant put extra supplies in their bags so we could perform minor repairs without the motorhome if we needed to. We then got on our way to Inverness.
The afternoon push started with a cracking downhill on normal tarmac for a change! I hit 44.7mph which is my fastest ever speed in my wheelchair. I left Ant and Ed trailing behind me. Ed had a go at sticking with me for maybe a quarter mile, Ant didn't bother trying, he already knew his legs wouldn't go fast enough. There was a big climb after 2.5 miles so Ed was soon back on my tail. It took Ant a good 3 or 4 minutes to catch us but we could see him in the distance gaining on us. I may have worked a little bit harder on the climb to keep Ant chasing us, I'm cruel like that! I think it's the coach in me that likes making people put effort in!

A nice wide berth from a tanker!

 It didn't take long to conquer the climb and get my self going down the amazing hill that leads in to Inverness, again I dropped the lads pretty quickly. My speed was building up well, I was tucked down low to make me nice and aero dynamic. I crept up to 42mph and had lots more hill left to gain more speed, I was easily on for 50mph before the bottom, I was loving it. Then a tosser in one of those Hymer motorhomes from the 70's that look like a giant VW camper but with tiny wheels pulled out in front of me. The most annoying part of it was that he pulled up to the edge of the layby, stopped, looked straight at me and then decided to pull out on me. If he hadn't stopped and just carried on driving there wouldn't have been a problem, he would have accelerated and got away from me. His acceleration from a stationary position was nowhere near fast enough to pull out when he did. I managed to slow enough not to hit him but I got close enough to tell him what I thought of his driving skills. Slowing down so quickly had torn a big chunk of rubber out of my gloves. A 50mph opportunity well and truly ruined.
Not long after it was the junction that dad needed to take to go shopping. I was now pushing on the hard shoulder so I didn't need shielding by the motorhome anymore. I pointed at the road sign and the exit and tried waving him off the dual carriageway but he was having none of it and carried on driving with me. I managed to get the message to him that he had to leave at the next junction or we would not have any food for dinner. At this junction he did leave but I was worried now because he would have to find his own way to a retail park and not follow the directions we had given him for the previous junction. The A9 was almost gridlocked at Inverness, it's basically a motorway but it didn't feel too dangerous because we were on the hard shoulder and the cars were only moving about 10mph.
We crossed over the Moray Firth on a bridge with some serious views and then the hard shoulder disappeared on the Black Isle. Some of the drivers shouted abuse out of their car windows at us here. I think they were frustrated with being sat in the road works traffic for so long.

The bridge over Moray Firth

Whilst climbing over the Black Isle it got really cold and started to rain. I could have done with stopping here but dad wasn't back yet so I just kept going. I had another belting downhill to tackle to get onto the bridge to leave the Black Isle by crossing the Cromarty Firth. This downhill wasn't fun, the rain was hurting my face as I was descending at 40mph again. It felt like I was being pelted with drawing pins, My hands and forearms were so cold they were hurting. I was also worried about Ed and Ant and how they were feeling. You could never have guessed it was the first day of July, it felt like November. Ed Caught me up when I was just leaving the bridge but Ant wasn't even in sight now. It took a long time for him to get back to us.

The Cromarty Firth Bridge

The busy, wet A9.

 I really wanted to stop so when we crossed the bridge Ed phoned my dad to see where he had got to. He was stuck in traffic. I was struggling because of the cold so sitting and waiting in wet clothes wasn't really an option. I'd already done 21 miles when I left the Black Isle. That was 48 for the day. The A9 was hugging the coast now we were back on the mainland do it was much flatter, another 40 minutes later it had dried up so I warmed up slightly and managed to work my was back to a respectable speed. After clocking 32 miles for the afternoon push I was ready to find a layby to wait for my dad but we were in a huge area of road works and we didn't find anywhere suitable to stop until over 35 miles.

Not looking too bad to say we'd pushed and cycled 61 miles.

 Ed phoned my dad again to find out where he was and direct him to where we had stopped. It took him another 20 minutes to finally get to our finish line I'd done 61 miles! I couldn't quite believe it. Part of me wanted to phone all those trustees at 'that' meeting where they had spoken to me like I was an idiot for thinking I could push 33 miles in a day. I wanted them to know just how wrong they were! I hadn't gone out that day with the idea of pushing anywhere near that far but circumstances had almost forced me into it. I was just happy my body was capable of doing that even with two broken ribs! If I had a good day on day 19 It might be possible I could finish on day 20, just a few hours earlier I had been hoping I could manage to get it done in 21 days.
There was fruit and veg in the motorhome!!! At last something healthy to eat. We had pasta with a tomato and herb sauce with mince beef, peppers, onions and mushrooms thrown in to bulk it up a bit. I was so happy to eat!

Day 18 Afternoon Stats

Miles: 35.62
Time: 3:01:17
Average Moving Speed: 11.8mph
Top Speed: 44.7mph (Fastest yet)
Slowest Mile Split: Mile 16 - 11:07
Fastest Mile Split: Mile 7 - 1:24
Total Ascent: 1175ft
Average Heart Rate: 141bpm
Max Heart Rate: 161bpm

Day 18 Afternoon Progress Maps

Total Daily Mileage: 61.52

Handcycle arrived!

  At last my handcycle has been delivered. I bought with the compensation money I received from being run over whilst training almost two years ago. I have never tried one out before but I have noticed other athletes becoming fitter and faster wheelchair athletes by using a handcycle for cross training and I wanted to get in on the action. It arrived with a couple of bits missing so it was stranded in my front room for a few days before I could use it. On the morning the wheelchair manufacturers sent the missing bits I was lucky the weather seemed calm and sunny. Knowing it would still be bitter I wrapped up well and headed out on my new toy to do my longest training route that I do at home in my race chair, It's 19 miles but quite hilly.
  I had heard that handcycling was easier than wheelchair racing and faster than wheelchair racing so I wasn't expecting the hard time I was about to have. Firstly I hadn't put the pedals in the correct position (not even sure if they are called pedals if you turn them with your hands?) I was having to do a mini ab crunch to reach the pedals when they were at the furthest distance from me. I had also forgotten about how gears work, in my defence it is 15 years since I have been cycling, I forgot that the big cogs on the wheel do the opposite of the cogs at the pedal end, doh! So I cycled miles in a gear that I was struggling to turn and only noticed when I was almost home! I didn't have any sports gloves and elected not to wear my normal gloves which was a bit of a silly choice, my hands were numb before I had covered 2 miles.
  When I had reached the turn around point I was way behind the time I would have done in my race chair, I was completely knackered and the heavens opened. Part freezing rain and part hailstones, it hurt. In a hand cycle you are laid on your back so it is impossible to keep your face and eyes out of the hail, I tried shielding my face with one arm and pedalling with my other arm but I was too wobbly with steering one handed. At the same time as being pelted in the eyes with mini blocks of ice the roads had become wet and the front wheel was spraying me with water as well as cars spraying me as they overtook me. I was completely sodden,  freezing and fed up. I considered stopping and phoning for help but then thought by the time anyone had got to me to pick me up I could have been home. I soldiered on, hating it but getting on with it nevertheless. For some reason I didn't think to stop and get my emergency rations or my thermal hat out of my bumbag!
Once home I really struggled to get my legs out of the cycle and then get to my door. I struggled to get my key safe number in because my hands were completely numb. Then my dad opened my front door,  he had turned up to do some jobs for me when I had been out and had let himself in, I've never been so chuffed to see his ugly mug. He dragged me into the house and then went to collect my cycle. By the time he got back in I had stripped down to my boxers to get out of the wet clothes and was sat in front of the fire which was on full blast. He wrapped me up in towels and put the kettle on. It was a good 10min before I could talk properly and over an hour before I stopped shivering!  A true baptism of ice! It hasn't put me off though, I shall just check the weather forecast more closely in future and be properly prepared before setting off. 

Bad day at the track

Today I found out what happened to my wheelchair and why it has been making creaking noises. I had gone to the track at Burnley to train and after a long warm up I began my reps but I started hearing my wheel catching again. It's so annoying when that happens to me, it last happened at the national championships in the 1500m and it cost me a lot of time. Tonight as soon as I got up to speed for my reps I could hear the same noise again. It sounds like the squelching noise you make when you walk through deep, wet mud wearing wellies as a kid.
When I got out of the chair to have a look at what was happening. I could of cried when I saw the crack that had appeared. It runs round the weld that joins the wheel arch to the U frame (the U frame joins the wheel arch to the main shaft of the chair) I am not sure if it can be fixed.
  I have had a lot of problems with my chair since being run over by David Holmes whilst out training. I was pushing along Broadway in Helmshore whe the driver pulled out of a side street on the opposite side of the road. He crashed in to me and carried on driving even though I was punching the side of his car. Eventually I was flipped upside down and the driver still carried on for another 50m or so.
  David Holmes was found guilty of driving without due care and attention, given a small fine and six points on his licence.  I had dislocated my shoulder, damaged my collar bone - permanently, wrote off a set of wheels and damanged my chair frame which was brand new at the time.
  Over a year later I am still pushing a damaged chair which is affecting my training and racing. I've had to miss most of a session tonight because of the damage. It's totally disheartening :(

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Rock n Roll Half Marathon, Lisbon 2013

Report from October 2013

I’ve just got back from my first international race as a wheelchair athlete in Lisbon, Portugal. It was an invite only race so I was pretty surprised to get an invite 8 weeks ago as at the time my PB was a next to useless 77min.

  I am part of the Weir Archer Academy which was set up in April by David Weir and his long term coach Jenny Archer – I’m sure David needs no introduction but his (and now my) coach is little known outside disability sport and that is a huge shame. Jenny coached David to six Paralympic golds, four of which were in London last year she has also guided him to six London Marathon wins, four world records and British records at every distance from 100m to Marathon! She also worked with the famous Wimbledon Crazy Gang and was known as the ‘woman who tamed the crazy gang’! Anybody who is considered to have tamed Dennis wise, John Fashanu, Lawrie Sanchez and Vinnie Jones is obviously hard as nails! Jenny and Dave wanted to get involved with this whole legacy thing that we had drummed into us all during the London Games, they took it upon themselves to set up a group where disabled athletes can get world class coaching and access to all the backroom support that international athletes get.

Being a member of the Weir Archer Academy is what got me invited to the race along with four other WAA athletes; My mates who did the Manchester to Blackpool push with me which CLEM members helped with Kirsty Grange and Stuart Bloor along with London based athletes Ash Archer and Justin Levine. When I got the invite I spoke to Jenny and we said if I accepted I needed to get some serious work done as 77min wasn’t an acceptable PB, I spent a week on a new training program whilst I decided if I should accept or not. I loved training twice a day and doing the extra milage so I decided to give it a crack. All I had to do was find £160 for my flights everything else was paid for by the organisers.

Five weeks into my new training plan I did the Tyne Tunnel 2km and Great North Run. The Tyne Tunnel race is the fastest wheelchair race in the world and I finished 9th overall and 3rd Brit. I was over 2min faster than last year and enjoyed every moment!

Two days later I did the GNR one year after the course almost made me quit racing because of the pain I was in for a few weeks after the race. This year I was in a new chair custom built to fit me exactly, I was fitter and lighter. I really enjoyed the race this year and  smashed my PB with 55:36 and 12th place. I think that is the one and only time I will ever have a 22min PB! The weekend in Newcastle gave me a huge boost of confidence and made me knuckle down and train even harder out on the roads of Rossendale and down at Barden Lane track for the last 3 weeks building up towards the Lisbon race.

I flew out on Thursday morning, had quite a few people in the airport doing the ‘trying not to stare’ routine. I guess a lad pushing a wheelchair with one hand whilst pushing a race chair along in front with his spare hand complete with suitcase, spare wheels and pump stacked on top is a fairly unusual sight! Whilst sat in departures the mother phoned to wish me luck and remind me that last time I competed abroad I ended up in a wheelchair so I “wasn’t to do anything stupid” – yeah, cheers for that mum!

We were met at the airport in Lisbon by the race staff who had our chairs in a van and us in a car on the way to the elite athletes hotel in no time. The hotel was the same one the England football team stayed in during Euro 2004, my apartment had three bedrooms, two bathrooms a kitchen and large lounge with a wrap around balcony. I shared with Justin and Ash, who are both fairly new to the sport like me. We had time to explore the hotel, test out the indoor pool and sauna, pick up a start list and google everybody’s PB’s before tea. The dinner table was like a who’s who of wheelchair road racing with most of the athletes being paralympians. Friday morning was spent chatting with the foreign lads and picking up tips on everything from gluing sandpaper to gloves for grip in wet weather to how much pressure to put in tyres on a rough course like Lisbon. At lunch time all the elite athletes able bodied and disabled were taken to a press conference at the Hilton. I have to say sitting through two hours of foreign politicians making speeches which looked to be of the mutual back patting type was extremely boring when you don’t speak a word of Portuguese, a few of the Kenyans fell asleep!! The speeches were followed by the papers taking photo’s and once we were all suitably blinded by the flash bulbs we were led to the dinning room for lunch. I managed to make an idiot of my self on the way by pulling a hand rail off the leather lined walls of the lift – still it got a cheer and a round of applause from all the other wheelers waiting for the lift!

Lunch made up for the two hours of boredom a thousand times over, swordfish and it was b.e.a.u.tiful and once I knew it was definitely free the northerner in me came to the fore ‘owt for nowt’….. I had an apple crumble for desert, followed by gateaux..followed by fruit salad… followed by chocolate cheesecake. All of which were great! After stuffing my face at the Hilton we had a couple of hours rest before a training session at Portugal’s national athletics center which was built into the side of a hill which meant it had virtually no wind at all. The track was old and worn which made it really fast for chairs as there was no give in the surface. Jenny had us do an easy 10km, it was hard to hold back on such a fast track when I felt so fit, I didn’t want to give anything away to my competitors so each time somebody was near me on the track I stopped pushing and started doing arm drills instead.

Saturday morning we had another session on the same track, just an easy 5km. As soon as the minibus and van stopped I was out and in my chair, I got the 5km done whilst others were still messing about getting sorted before starting the session. That suited me and helped me with my tactic of not giving anything away. In the afternoon I had a massage from the race physio on a niggle in my shoulder that Garry Wilkinson has been working on at home. I ate my own body weight in rice and had an early night.

On race day I was up and ready for breakfast at 6AM, WAA athletes and Jenny had a table to ourselves and she did a great job of calming us all down. Once our chairs had been loaded all the elite athletes traveled to the start in convoy with a police escort, complete with out riders who closed off roundabouts and traffic light controlled junctions to let us speed through. We had a 200m long stretch of road on a hill to warm up on which was soon filled with nervous looking athletes, about 5min before the start we had our final team talk from Jenny and then made our way to the start grid. I was 4 rows back but there were another 4 rows behind me so it was the furthest forward I have ever started a race. Once in position Jenny went round her athletes and whispered a final instruction for each individual. She has a way of getting the best from us and I used my instruction through the course.

Once the gun went there was the usual mad dash for the racing line, my main targets were Stuart who was next to me on the start grid, Bret Crossley who beat me by over three minutes at the Great North and was on the row in front of me along with Shelly Woods who also beat me at the great North by a few minutes (however old we get and however good they are, lads don’t like losing to girls!). I knew lads in the row behind were gunning for me so I started fast and shot around Shelly before the roundabout  followed by a steep climb 80m into the course. Stuart stuck by my side up the climb and I think we were both a little surprised that Bret had stole a march on us, Bret is faster than both of us but he isn’t usually as strong on the climbs. we spent a kilometer or so closing the gap on him and by the next hill we had caught him and passed him. Stu then worked at the front for three kilometers or so and I hung on like hell, to be honest he had me blowing big time but I didn’t let him go. By kilometer six we had caught a Portuguese athlete but Bret had caught us, I noticed the Portuguese guy pushing one handed for long periods and it annoyed me he was keeping up with me so I hit the front of our group and tried to drop him. After going past the 10km mark in 24:29 (1min 37 under my 10km PB) I decided I’d done my bit and asked Stu to take over at the front. I tucked in behind him and unfortunately he took us straight to a huge pothole, Stu hit it, I rammed Stu and hit the pothole but Bret and the Portuguese one armed bandit managed to swerve round us and keep their speed.

We spent another two kilometers closing back in on the pair of them when Bret’s tyre exploded – it’s awful seeing that happen to a mate but there is nothing you can do about it. The one armed bandit almost stopped pushing until we caught him, he really didn’t like doing any work at the front of the group. At kilometer 14 I was starting to think about the finish line and the fact that my training buddy has a much much faster 100m pb to me. I’d never been with him at any point other than the first 5km in my other two Half Marathons but I decided to try an wind it up ‘Paula Style’ and drop him before the finish. I worked my backside off and opened a gap on three occasions but each time the course threw a hill at me. Stuart only has one leg so his power to weight ratio is slightly better than mine as I have two useless limbs to carry around with me, he closed the gap each time and the inevitable happened…. We hit the last 300m and he shot round me along with the one armed bandit who was now pushing with both arms again. The Finish was an experience to say the least, it was made with small uneven cobbles complete with speed bumps (who the hell speeds on cobbles?) it was like riding rodeo and I seriously thought I was going to end up out of the chair. Stu and the part-time one armed bandit both got given the same finish time and they had taken 6 seconds out of me but I was mega happy with my 8th place and 54:26 taking 1:10 off my three week old PB on such a rough old course was a good day at the office.

At the finish line everyone was comparing war wounds and missing kit, there were GoPro, Garmin, race gloves, push rims and tyres that had been lost whilst trying to stay seated in the home straight…. luckily I had only lost my Jelly Babies that I hadn’t had chance to eat.

That night the Weir Archer crew hit the hotel bar with Shelly Woods and her fella. We had a few beers and swapped stories just like I would have done after a big race as a runner. It was a cracking trip and I learnt so much from both my coach, the other athletes and the organisers (who did a cracking job). I can’t wait for my next opportunity to wear the Clayton vest abroad.