For the last few months The Ride Dolomites had been a little black cloud on my racing calendar. The starting date coming nearer and nearer and me feeling less and less prepared for it. For a few months earlier this year I was led into a false sense of security that I was on the road to recovery with the least amount of pain in my legs and back I had felt in the past two years. But then about two months ago, for no apparent reason my back injury raised its ugly head again. With nerve pain shooting down into my legs, my glutes, my hamstrings and lower back, everything hurting again. From sleeping, showering, walking the dogs, working, driving, and riding my bike. Simply living my life was painful. Being in constant pain was exhausting creating a lack of motivation I was not used to. It got me so down that I wondered why I was still trying to be an athlete if it caused me this much distress. And at the same time not wanting to let go of something I loved doing so much.
So I really had no choice but to ride through it. Literally. With The Ride only a few weeks away, I joined a local group ride to spend some more time riding in bunches to get used to it and get some road cycling fitness in at the same time. Not without pain I must add. But riding in company often distracted me from what was physically going on and slowly but surely the pain receded to just my lower back. And then suddenly it was time to pack.
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| The evil master minds behind The Ride; course directors deep in thought... |
The Ride was a Dutch owned company targeted and attracting mainly Dutch people.
It worked like a proper race tour; for 6 days we would be crossing the Dolomites riding from campsite to campsite. With a whole bunch of volunteers looking after us as if we were professional athletes. From Physio’s to bike mechanics, first aiders, cooks and support vehicles we were spoiled with attention from the first moment we woke up to the last moment we went to sleep. Every stage included a challenge which were all climbs, these timed sections counted towards a General Classification over all the stages. Each route had an option B for riders who were struggling and needed an easier ride. The support vehicles were on stand by the whole day sweeping up riders where necessary. And mechanics fixing broking down bikes. Every night we were treated with a recap of the day involving pictures, video clips and stories of the day in true sarcastic Dutch humour which I had missed so much! It was a really well organised event with good food, great people and amazing cyclists.
I was teaming up with cycling guru, Maan Klomp who had done an enormous amount to boost women’s cycling especially in Amsterdam. She was a bit of a cycling celebrity realloy! Maan and I were both ambassadors for StrongHer whom we were riding for. It was an absolute honour and pleasure to ride with Maan. From the moment I arrived at camp late on the Saturday night she took me under her wing and made me feel at ease. Maan also had her list of troubles getting ready for The Ride including a trip to the hospital with broken ribs only a few months ago! My plan for the week was simple, I was not allowed to push myself. Hmm. Yes. This is a lot harder than you think when the evil master minds behind this event had chosen to send us over some of the toughest climbs in the area. And with a racing mind in my head, I had to let go of my ego and stick to the plan.
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| we quickly formed a tight group |
We started with two massive days, both over 140km of riding and close to 3000m of ascend. And a tight little group was easily formed; Maan and her husband Harco, Joyce and Ger, Marc, Siegrid and I. Riders would come and leave us but this was the core of our bunch for the week.
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| Our pace maker Harco in conversation with Marc before setting off |
On Day 2 (143km, 2800m ascend) the heat and steep gradient got to me in the final km of the challenge climb and I decided I needed a lay down in some nice looking green grass (which actually ended up being stinging nettles) When the ambulance drove passed me, they jumped out and came running towards me thinking I had passed out. I immediately got to my feet “I am ok, I am ok” I said to the concerned but smiling faces. This all to the amusement of a fellow rider who witnessed it all, not shy of teasing me about it for days to come! The shero's from first aid gave me some magnesium, lots of encouraging words and off I went on again just as Maan caught up with me who was struggling equally as much as I was. The final 1km felt like 10000000000kms!!
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| Absolutely not pushing myself... |
It worried me that after two days I already felt so empty, and there were still 4 days to go
with some of the hardest climbs still to come. But the atmosphere was electric, the weather was amazing and everybody including all the volunteers were so upbeat that the suffering was easily forgotten.
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| amazing scenery creating a happy heart |
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| Having a moment with Siegrid to take it all in |
On day 3 (113km, 3000m ascend) I struggled riding in a bunch, it is something I do not do very often and I felt the constant change of pace was taking its toll. We lost Maan to the support vehicle half way through the day which made me sad for her. I myself felt a bit uninspired. Feeling mentally and physically exhausted. In the final 16km climb of the day I was lucky to be able to keep Joyce in sight up the mountain. It started raining as the last km's came closer climbing into colder air. I had to laugh out loud when a bunch of riders who were hiding from the weather at a cafe cheered us on full noise, lifting up my spirits. As we reached the top of the climb the rain had now turned into heavy hail the size of small ping pong balls, causing a slippery mess on the road. Joyce and I decided the last descent to camp was not worth getting injured for and we called for help. There were at least 20 people still stuck on the mountain but within minutes riders were taken down, given hot drinks and emergency foil blankets to get warm. A big shout out to Jos from the support vehicle and a huge credit to the organisation for taking control of a situation which could have easily ended up out of hand.
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| Nothing makes me happier |
Day 4 was the mighty Queens stage, 114kms and 4000m of climbing. We were staying at the same camp that night which meant riders could opt out, have a rest day or ride an easier route B. As people were talking more and more about how brutal this stage was, my adventure heart started to sing. It included Passo di Fedaia, a brutal climb with a straight up 3km section averaging 17% gradient. And I wanted to ride it. I did not care if it would take me the whole day. Whilst riders were coming up with reasons not to do it, I started to convince myself I was strong enough to do it. This was a bucket list stage and my name was written all over it. We discussed it in our group and 5 of us were going for it; Joyce, Ger, Siegrid, Marc and I.
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| Mighty stage 4 |
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| waking up on the first climb with a scenery which was breath taking |
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| The support of Ger and Joyce over the week was very much appreciated |
I can’t really describe the magic which told the story of day 4. The connection I felt between our little group, the amazing scenery which simply made me feel the happiest I had been in a long time. And having legs which for whatever reason just kept on giving. We all rode within minutes from each other which made the day flow so effortless it felt like one big great smile. Riding into camp that night having achieved the full stage was one the most satisfying moments I have had for a long time. Something which had absolutely nothing to do with pace, power or speed, but absolutely everything to do with mental strength. One of those days you will recall sipping a cup of tea in the evening sun at the age of 110.
“What you think you become, what you feel you attract, what you imagine you create” Buddha
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