The alarm went off way too early, considering this was going to be a long day. We had decided that we would travel to Cornwall and stay at my son’s house in Bodmin. It would be hassle free since he wasn’t going to be there, and it was close enough to Land’e End to be convenient...or so I thought. Unfortunately, whilst on a map it looked close, it was actually 50 miles away, and Google Maps estimated an hour & and quarter to reach Lands End. So for me that meant a grab and go breakfast to eat while we were moving.
It's a common feeling when you've been preparing for so long for something so big. The crash that comes after the event. It comes regardless of whether you were triumphant, or things didn't go to plan. The success of the event is just a volume button really to the emptiness that is invariably felt once the euphoria (or disappointment) wears off.
For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be good at something. When I say good I mean really good. I've wondered what it would be like to be one of life's winners, as that's never been me.
Being a long distance cyclist was accepting that it was all I could become. Yes I could cycle a long way, and I loved to do this, but I felt I was deluding myself if I thought I could ever be even slightly competitive as a cyclist. Completing a long distance event in time, let alone a good time, was something that more capable & usually younger women did, not me. I would enter, because I liked the idea of a particular ride, and my aim was simply to complete it, hopefully in time.
So what’s change my perspective?
The post that follows is not anything like I thought I would write about it, but I think it's important. It's very personal to me, and I've rarely discussed it, but I think that many others out there may be able to relate, and so this story will be told. I want to explain why it was so important to me to complete it, ideally within time, but even out of time if necessary. The reason is not what you would expect.