race to brighton

In July 2010, a bunch of colleagues and I signed up to do a bike race in June 2011. It seemed like a good idea to raise money for a noble cause (the British Heart Foundation), a good physical challenge, and a good day out. Most importantly, it seemed so far off that signing a few forms didn’t seem to actually imply commitment. So, I signed up for my first competitive physical activity event in probably 2 decades, and promptly forgot about it. Sometime around February 2011, people started talking about it again, and I figured doing a bit of training might be necessary. In the gym and on the roads around London, I began training. I tried to steadily increase the distance I could ride. At first 10 kilometres seemed a lot, then 20, then 30. When I left my last company, my colleagues, knowing I would never survive the race on my little Brompton, chipped in and got me a gift certificate to get a new racing bike for the occasion. I got a beautiful Kona Honky Tonk a few weeks before the race and had just enough time to get used to it before the big day.

So it is 56 miles from Clapham Common to Brighton beach. First, I had to cycle 4 miles or so down to Clapham for the 8am start. Once I got down there, I found my colleagues (by now ex colleagues as I had already changed jobs) and we moved towards the starting line. It was an exciting moment. What amazed me the most about the entire experience was the tremendous sense of community spirit. As we road through little communities on back roads down to the coast, people lined the roads to cheer us on, kids held out their hands for high 5s and adults had bake sales, with all the proceeds going to the BHF. I was astounded to see so many English people out in the streets yelling and cheering for us, especially when we approached the finish line down on the beach, thousands of people were screaming and waving flags and balloons, and even though I was exceptionally tired, I had to smile. It was an amazing moment….

…..but then I had to cycle back to the pick up point in Hove, and then back across London from Clapham, with every muscle in my body aching, and that was almost heart breaking.

And despite the incredible pain I felt the next day, I have signed up to do it again next year.