As I mentioned yesterday, I'm off on holibobs tomorrow, so this will be my last daily post for a while - I'll try to post a bit from the other side of the world, but it could be a bit sporadic.
I've been doing a bit more digging on where I'm going, and it seems that LA has plans for something like 1,500 miles of bikeways in the next few years and even the buses have bike racks on them. Maybe it's not the Netherlands' model we should be aspiring to.
It has also occurred to me that if I do any cycling while I'm away, I'm going to have to deal with yet another new concept - they drive on the wrong side of the road. James and I discussed this earlier, and we reckon there's a chance that I might actually deal with this better than he will, as I've only been riding on the road in the UK for a very short time, whereas he has been riding on the left since the beginning of time. Only time will tell, and I'm not entirely convinced that either of us riding on the wrong side of the road in a different country is a great idea.
Anyhow, ta ta for now - think of us on our enormously long flight tomorrow, and also think of my friend (who I wrote about the other day) who has her first cycling class at 9 a.m.
Sunday, 28 April 2013
Saturday, 27 April 2013
California Dreamin'
I've mentioned a few times in the last couple of weeks that I'm about to go on a trip. Well, it's true. I'm about to go on a trip. On Monday, James and I will be travelling halfway around the world (or thereabouts) to Los Angeles on a mixed business and pleasure trip. We'll actually be spending the first few days in San Diego, as we're flying into LAX but then immediately taking the Pacific Surfliner train down the coast, almost all the way to Mexico. James is speaking at a conference in San Diego and I'm going to be doing some business development and having some precious R&R time. Then we're back to LA to stay with my Uncle Simon (he of washing machine motorbike fame) while James attends another conference and I spend some time with my colleagues in our LA office, potentially interspersed with a little Disney magic.
One of the things I want to do while I'm in Southern California is see how many people cycle and also how they cycle - I'm anticipating that they're not going to be commuting along the 6-lane highways of LA in rush hour, but do people just see cycling as a leisure activity, or do they actually use bikes to get around? While the cities themselves are as frantic as any others, they are also very close to some of the most beautiful national and state parks around - which are also reasonably mountainous, which I guess might put some people off!
I've equipped myself with a couple of guide books for the trip and grew slightly concerned when my Eyewitness Travel "Top 10 San Diego" didn't have cycling in its top ten ways to get around San Diego. However, on a closer inspection, it transpires that cycling is the number one outdoor activity, largely on the grounds that there are over 300 miles of bikeways and the city is described as "very cycle-friendly". In fact, the book has details of a bike ride in the district of Coronado, and the ferry to Coronado is only for people and bicycles.
The other book, Lonely Planet's "Coastal California" reinforces San Diego's cycle-friendliness with a listing for a cycle tour company and, to my surprise, goes even further, with references to several other cycle routes, including the 22 mile South Bay Bicycle Trail in LA, which parallels the famous Santa Monica and Venice beaches, and listings for cycle hire shops and a section on the rules of the road for cyclists (i.e. you can cycle pretty much anywhere except where it says you can't, even on freeways).
It's a good job, if I am going to do any cycling in the US, that I know where the hire shops are, of course, as I won't be taking the Beeblemobile with me. I could, though. I was very surprised to learn that Virgin Atlantic permit passengers to transport sports equipment for free, in addition to normal baggage allowances, so long as the equipment doesn't weigh more than 23kg. I could also take the bike on the Surfliner in a special cycle rack they have on the train.
All in all, it sounds like where I'm going could be great for a cyclist - will the land of the car prove to also be the land of the bike?
One of the things I want to do while I'm in Southern California is see how many people cycle and also how they cycle - I'm anticipating that they're not going to be commuting along the 6-lane highways of LA in rush hour, but do people just see cycling as a leisure activity, or do they actually use bikes to get around? While the cities themselves are as frantic as any others, they are also very close to some of the most beautiful national and state parks around - which are also reasonably mountainous, which I guess might put some people off!
I've equipped myself with a couple of guide books for the trip and grew slightly concerned when my Eyewitness Travel "Top 10 San Diego" didn't have cycling in its top ten ways to get around San Diego. However, on a closer inspection, it transpires that cycling is the number one outdoor activity, largely on the grounds that there are over 300 miles of bikeways and the city is described as "very cycle-friendly". In fact, the book has details of a bike ride in the district of Coronado, and the ferry to Coronado is only for people and bicycles.
The other book, Lonely Planet's "Coastal California" reinforces San Diego's cycle-friendliness with a listing for a cycle tour company and, to my surprise, goes even further, with references to several other cycle routes, including the 22 mile South Bay Bicycle Trail in LA, which parallels the famous Santa Monica and Venice beaches, and listings for cycle hire shops and a section on the rules of the road for cyclists (i.e. you can cycle pretty much anywhere except where it says you can't, even on freeways).
It's a good job, if I am going to do any cycling in the US, that I know where the hire shops are, of course, as I won't be taking the Beeblemobile with me. I could, though. I was very surprised to learn that Virgin Atlantic permit passengers to transport sports equipment for free, in addition to normal baggage allowances, so long as the equipment doesn't weigh more than 23kg. I could also take the bike on the Surfliner in a special cycle rack they have on the train.
All in all, it sounds like where I'm going could be great for a cyclist - will the land of the car prove to also be the land of the bike?
Friday, 26 April 2013
The Caped Crusader
Yes, that's me! The Caped Crusader! Last night I set off for home before it got dark, but I realised it would be dusky before I made it back, so I needed to wear my lovely fluorescent orange jacket. The problem was, it was too warm to do it up, which meant that it flowed out behind me like a superhero cape. It was all I could do not to take off and fly home (although that would have been more like E.T. than Wonder Woman, given the presence of the bike).
In my superhero state of mind, I still had to learn some important cycling life skills on the way home. Number one was that on a Thursday night there are nearly as many people roaming around the streets of Shoreditch as on a Friday night (OK, so I knew this already, but the weather was so nice, they were spilling out of the pubs a little more than usual, mostly into the middle of the road). Number two was that on a Thursday night at about 7.30 p.m., all of the cars in London sneak into side roads (in particular the ones I pass on my route home) ready to jump out at unsuspecting cyclists - you think I'm joking, but one of the cars that I passed in such a manner did appear to actually be lying in wait for someone to come past so that it could knock them down or run them over. Number three was "beware the fire engine".
There was an episode of Family Guy on BBC3 the other night that had a ferocious fire engine beating up Peter Griffin with its ladder. The fire engine I encountered last night immediately made me think of this episode. I had seen the blue lights and heard the sirens of an ambulance and a fire engine from some way down the road. By the time I was approaching the area they had been in, they had moved on and I presumed that they were long gone. I was coming up towards a crossroads between two major roads (one of which I was on), and just before the crossroads, there is a junction where a small side street joins the main road from the left. Just as my front wheel passed the point of no return (i.e. I couldn't stop as there wouldn't be room for anything to turn out of the junction), the fire engine - I presume it was the same one - suddenly appeared with its sirens blaring, wanting to turn right onto the main road, across my lane, to go the opposite way from me. It wasn't stopping.
This was a do or die moment for me. James had been on at me for a while to learn to ride standing up so that I could get more power into hill climbing. Frankly, it's all I can do to cycle along with my derriere on my siege, so the idea of standing up horrifies me. However, the circumstances were dire - if I didn't get a shift on, I was going to be flattened by an angry fire engine so, without thinking about it (because if I had, it wouldn't have happened) I suddenly and majestically rose from my seat and pedalled like a lunatic until I'd got past the junction. It is likely that this will never happen again unless there are similar circumstances.
In my superhero state of mind, I still had to learn some important cycling life skills on the way home. Number one was that on a Thursday night there are nearly as many people roaming around the streets of Shoreditch as on a Friday night (OK, so I knew this already, but the weather was so nice, they were spilling out of the pubs a little more than usual, mostly into the middle of the road). Number two was that on a Thursday night at about 7.30 p.m., all of the cars in London sneak into side roads (in particular the ones I pass on my route home) ready to jump out at unsuspecting cyclists - you think I'm joking, but one of the cars that I passed in such a manner did appear to actually be lying in wait for someone to come past so that it could knock them down or run them over. Number three was "beware the fire engine".
There was an episode of Family Guy on BBC3 the other night that had a ferocious fire engine beating up Peter Griffin with its ladder. The fire engine I encountered last night immediately made me think of this episode. I had seen the blue lights and heard the sirens of an ambulance and a fire engine from some way down the road. By the time I was approaching the area they had been in, they had moved on and I presumed that they were long gone. I was coming up towards a crossroads between two major roads (one of which I was on), and just before the crossroads, there is a junction where a small side street joins the main road from the left. Just as my front wheel passed the point of no return (i.e. I couldn't stop as there wouldn't be room for anything to turn out of the junction), the fire engine - I presume it was the same one - suddenly appeared with its sirens blaring, wanting to turn right onto the main road, across my lane, to go the opposite way from me. It wasn't stopping.
This was a do or die moment for me. James had been on at me for a while to learn to ride standing up so that I could get more power into hill climbing. Frankly, it's all I can do to cycle along with my derriere on my siege, so the idea of standing up horrifies me. However, the circumstances were dire - if I didn't get a shift on, I was going to be flattened by an angry fire engine so, without thinking about it (because if I had, it wouldn't have happened) I suddenly and majestically rose from my seat and pedalled like a lunatic until I'd got past the junction. It is likely that this will never happen again unless there are similar circumstances.
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Why I Won't Be Extreme Ironing Anytime Soon
I'm a bit late writing today, partly because what I'm writing about didn't happen until this afternoon and partly because I've been trying to think of a title for this post which wouldn't, shall we say, make it come up in search results for people who are definitely not looking for a blog about novice cyclists.
As you'll recall, nearly two weeks ago I had my first ever fall off my bike and, as a result, this afternoon I had my first ever cycling-related doctor's appointment. I am fortunate enough not to have to wait nearly two weeks for a doctor's appointment, it is rather that until now I hadn't realised that the particular injury I saw the doctor about was quite as bad (or would be as long-lasting) as it is.
When I fell off my bike, I had a number of minor scrapes and bruises (the one on my left knee was a particularly pretty colour, and I still have a visible imprint of my gears just above my right ankle), but the thing which actually hurt was my shoulder. At the time, I assumed that I would eventually get a mammoth bruise, which would go through a rainbow of colours and then fade, along with the pain. Not so. The bruise never came, and although the pain did subside slightly, over the last few days it has actually got worse. It isn't debilitating in any way - it hasn't stopped me from doing anything I'd normally do (including, crucially, cycling) - but it's there, all the time. So, reluctantly, I booked an appointment with a GP as I had come to the conclusion from a bit of internet self-diagnosis that I might have a whiplash injury. Yes, that's right, whiplash (now you can see why the title was tricky!)
As I fell off the bike (I say that, but I actually stayed on the bike, more or less astride it like one should be; it was really the bike that fell over, not me!) sideways, my neck will have been jolted sideways towards the floor. I'm not sure if my head hit the floor or not, but regardless of that, my reaction will have been to pull my neck back up to centre again immediately, causing alternately hyper-extension and hyper-contraction of all the muscles and other bits and pieces (ligaments, tendons, etc.) in my neck, particularly on my left side - the side I went down on. Since my fall, I've gradually been able to narrow down and now pinpoint the focus of the pain to a small area on the back left hand side of my neck, just above the junction with the shoulder, but I've been getting all manner of weird tingling, discomfort and aches in my shoulder, head and arm.
I explained the accident and the resultant pain to the doctor and he said yes, you've probably got whiplash. A few years ago, the immediate response to such an injury would have been to put a cervical (neck) collar on and hope it got better. Things have moved on, especially when the patient presents with the injury 13 days after sustaining it! I've got a referral for physiotherapy, but I won't be able to take advantage of it straight away as I'll be away for the next two weeks (more on that in a day or two) - in the meantime, it's more ibuprofen, no extreme sports (I was going to do some extreme ironing while I'm away, but I won't be able to now) and hoping that a bit of a break will mean I don't need to use the referral on my return.
Don't worry though, I'm still cycling (with doctoral consent). Cycling doesn't seem to exacerbate it and, in fact, because I have to concentrate so hard on what I'm doing, it actually takes my mind off the injury for a while.
As you'll recall, nearly two weeks ago I had my first ever fall off my bike and, as a result, this afternoon I had my first ever cycling-related doctor's appointment. I am fortunate enough not to have to wait nearly two weeks for a doctor's appointment, it is rather that until now I hadn't realised that the particular injury I saw the doctor about was quite as bad (or would be as long-lasting) as it is.
When I fell off my bike, I had a number of minor scrapes and bruises (the one on my left knee was a particularly pretty colour, and I still have a visible imprint of my gears just above my right ankle), but the thing which actually hurt was my shoulder. At the time, I assumed that I would eventually get a mammoth bruise, which would go through a rainbow of colours and then fade, along with the pain. Not so. The bruise never came, and although the pain did subside slightly, over the last few days it has actually got worse. It isn't debilitating in any way - it hasn't stopped me from doing anything I'd normally do (including, crucially, cycling) - but it's there, all the time. So, reluctantly, I booked an appointment with a GP as I had come to the conclusion from a bit of internet self-diagnosis that I might have a whiplash injury. Yes, that's right, whiplash (now you can see why the title was tricky!)
As I fell off the bike (I say that, but I actually stayed on the bike, more or less astride it like one should be; it was really the bike that fell over, not me!) sideways, my neck will have been jolted sideways towards the floor. I'm not sure if my head hit the floor or not, but regardless of that, my reaction will have been to pull my neck back up to centre again immediately, causing alternately hyper-extension and hyper-contraction of all the muscles and other bits and pieces (ligaments, tendons, etc.) in my neck, particularly on my left side - the side I went down on. Since my fall, I've gradually been able to narrow down and now pinpoint the focus of the pain to a small area on the back left hand side of my neck, just above the junction with the shoulder, but I've been getting all manner of weird tingling, discomfort and aches in my shoulder, head and arm.
I explained the accident and the resultant pain to the doctor and he said yes, you've probably got whiplash. A few years ago, the immediate response to such an injury would have been to put a cervical (neck) collar on and hope it got better. Things have moved on, especially when the patient presents with the injury 13 days after sustaining it! I've got a referral for physiotherapy, but I won't be able to take advantage of it straight away as I'll be away for the next two weeks (more on that in a day or two) - in the meantime, it's more ibuprofen, no extreme sports (I was going to do some extreme ironing while I'm away, but I won't be able to now) and hoping that a bit of a break will mean I don't need to use the referral on my return.
Don't worry though, I'm still cycling (with doctoral consent). Cycling doesn't seem to exacerbate it and, in fact, because I have to concentrate so hard on what I'm doing, it actually takes my mind off the injury for a while.
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
The Cycle of Cycling
Today, I want to tell you about a friend of mine. She's just a few years older than me and she's vivacious, kind, funny, a talented singer and mother and she enjoys life to the full. She's what I would call a "normal person" (or, rather, above average!) The only thing is, just like me a year ago, she can't ride a bike. Just like me, she never learnt how as a child and spent a long time wishing she could but never quite found the time, energy or necessity to do it. She's been talking about it for a while, so I was incredibly pleased to hear the other day that she has signed up for her very first cycling lesson.
On Monday morning at 9 o'clock (far too early, if you ask me), my lovely friend will arrive at a local park to participate in a class which will hopefully help her to find the same freedom that I have found through cycling. The even better news is that, since she announced that she's going to take this class, one of her friends has said that she will also do the cycling course that she signed up for but never quite got around to doing - yet another lady taking up cycling.
My friend (she's going to remain nameless for the moment because she doesn't know I'm writing this, but I may change it later!) is probably going to be quite a different cyclist from me. Whereas I have a Dahon hybrid full size folding bike (quite a sporty number, really), I think she will be going for something a little more elegant, like a Pashley. I also have a feeling that she's not going to be racing around London in fluorescent Lycra, but I could be wrong. However, the point is that she's doing it - she's just getting on with it. It's too easy for us all to just sit and dream and ponder and procrastinate and never quite do all the things we want to.
Every now and then (especially now, in fact, given that I have this time last year to compare to) I do a bit of a reality check. I was cycling home last night, on my own (no James to hold my hand - figuratively, of course; literally would be dangerous) in the dark, when it struck me how far I had come in just a year - and even that isn't really a full year, given my various set-backs. Even after I had taken the plunge and got on my bike for the first time, I would not have believed you if you'd told me that in a year I would be cycling to work every other day, going on long bike rides to different towns at weekends and preparing to cycle to Brighton in the dark. I'm not showboating here, I'm not trying to say "I'm so wonderful because I've achieved all this stuff in cycling in a year." I'm just saying that a normal person like me can do it - it's not fun all the time and it's not easy all the time - it requires some perseverance and a little pain, but boy is it worth it in the end.
So, I wish my friend the best of luck in her endeavours, and I hope that she will also shout about how she gets on in the hope that some other people who never learnt to ride a bike will be inspired to join the ranks of the cyclists before too long. We will conquer the world!
On Monday morning at 9 o'clock (far too early, if you ask me), my lovely friend will arrive at a local park to participate in a class which will hopefully help her to find the same freedom that I have found through cycling. The even better news is that, since she announced that she's going to take this class, one of her friends has said that she will also do the cycling course that she signed up for but never quite got around to doing - yet another lady taking up cycling.
My friend (she's going to remain nameless for the moment because she doesn't know I'm writing this, but I may change it later!) is probably going to be quite a different cyclist from me. Whereas I have a Dahon hybrid full size folding bike (quite a sporty number, really), I think she will be going for something a little more elegant, like a Pashley. I also have a feeling that she's not going to be racing around London in fluorescent Lycra, but I could be wrong. However, the point is that she's doing it - she's just getting on with it. It's too easy for us all to just sit and dream and ponder and procrastinate and never quite do all the things we want to.
Every now and then (especially now, in fact, given that I have this time last year to compare to) I do a bit of a reality check. I was cycling home last night, on my own (no James to hold my hand - figuratively, of course; literally would be dangerous) in the dark, when it struck me how far I had come in just a year - and even that isn't really a full year, given my various set-backs. Even after I had taken the plunge and got on my bike for the first time, I would not have believed you if you'd told me that in a year I would be cycling to work every other day, going on long bike rides to different towns at weekends and preparing to cycle to Brighton in the dark. I'm not showboating here, I'm not trying to say "I'm so wonderful because I've achieved all this stuff in cycling in a year." I'm just saying that a normal person like me can do it - it's not fun all the time and it's not easy all the time - it requires some perseverance and a little pain, but boy is it worth it in the end.
So, I wish my friend the best of luck in her endeavours, and I hope that she will also shout about how she gets on in the hope that some other people who never learnt to ride a bike will be inspired to join the ranks of the cyclists before too long. We will conquer the world!
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
The Measure of Success
As promised yesterday, today started with thinking about Claire Lomas' challenge to cycle 400 miles around the country. My second thought was something about "warm bed, duvet, cat," as I drifted back into my slumbers. To say I didn't feel like cycling to work this morning would be the understatement of the year and I was quite happy to stay in bed all day, never mind the consequences. Then James put Ozzy the cat on me and Ozzy dutifully purred in my ear until I eventually hauled myself (and the cat) out of bed and down the stairs.
Even though the sun was shining, I really wasn't interested, but I thought of Claire's drive and told myself to just get on with it. I made the mistake of asking James to put my panniers on the Beeblemobile for me as I was having difficulty - the result was that I had to redo it once we'd got outside because he'd only done up about half of the straps ("It'll stay on, won't it?") and had put them on lopsided ("I put it on where I could get it on!"), which would cause them to foul the pedals.
Yet again, the traffic was particularly heavy on Wightman Road, which I've now decided is my second least favourite part of the journey, but we made it onto the list-topping Endymion Road and I made it up the hill without keeling over or having to stop at the top. Once we were through the park, we went through the usual rigmarole of James just making it across the pedestrian crossing (on foot, of course) with the green man, and me having to wait for the next cycle of the lights to get across.
We overtook a bus and, in my excitement, I forgot that immediately after the bus there was a hill. Having overtaken the bus, I had to then carry on going pretty quickly to keep in front of it. James was very impressed with my hill climb. So was I. Newington Green was also busy today, and full of buses. Once we'd got through, we carried on down towards the City and about two-thirds of the way to the turn off for Shoreditch Park, I had a bit of an incident. I had taken the whole of the Newington Green area in second gear (of three) on my front ring and needed to change into third for the faster, straighter stretch we had joined. As it was downhill, I had no problem in changing, but I must have done so just as I went over a blip in the road and not one, but both of my feet came off the pedals. Bizarrely, I didn't particularly panic, partly because I knew that to do so would be suicide and partly because I knew that the driver behind me knew I was there as we'd been overtaking each other fairly consistently for about half a mile in the heavy traffic.
I was teetering on the edge. I was balancing precariously with my feet away from the pedals (to prevent them from getting caught and causing me to be hurled over the handlebars). I had choices - I could swerve off to the side and hope I didn't fall off as I braked (but this depended on there being a space on my left, which there wasn't, and on me having enough control over which direction I was going in, which I wasn't convinced about) or I could carry on, hope I didn't either fall off or get hit by the car behind and try to get my feet back on the pedals. I chose the latter and it worked. I raised my hand in apology to the driver, and then I panicked and felt the tears pricking my eyes. "Don't bl**dy cry, you sap," I uttered under my breath.
James, blissfully unaware that I had had this experience, was ahead of me and slowed down as he arrived in Shoreditch Park so that I could catch him up. As I drew alongside him he said, "You're doing well today!" I don't think he expected the mildly hysterical response he got. "No I'm bl**dy not, my feet came off and there were cars and I nearly fell off and I couldn't find the pedals and I nearly fell off and there were cars and things and stuff" (or something along those lines). "But did you fall off?" "No." "So you did well, didn't you?"
My office mate and I have had a couple of discussions in the last couple of weeks, not all cycling related, about how success is only measured by the parameters one sets for it. We've come to the conclusion that all of the things we've done to date (and, touch wood, will do) are successful if the measure of success is that no-one died as a result. Therefore, I can conclude, wholeheartedly, that in spite of nearly falling off, my journey to work was entirely successful.
 |
| Ozzy, the feline alarm clock |
Yet again, the traffic was particularly heavy on Wightman Road, which I've now decided is my second least favourite part of the journey, but we made it onto the list-topping Endymion Road and I made it up the hill without keeling over or having to stop at the top. Once we were through the park, we went through the usual rigmarole of James just making it across the pedestrian crossing (on foot, of course) with the green man, and me having to wait for the next cycle of the lights to get across.
We overtook a bus and, in my excitement, I forgot that immediately after the bus there was a hill. Having overtaken the bus, I had to then carry on going pretty quickly to keep in front of it. James was very impressed with my hill climb. So was I. Newington Green was also busy today, and full of buses. Once we'd got through, we carried on down towards the City and about two-thirds of the way to the turn off for Shoreditch Park, I had a bit of an incident. I had taken the whole of the Newington Green area in second gear (of three) on my front ring and needed to change into third for the faster, straighter stretch we had joined. As it was downhill, I had no problem in changing, but I must have done so just as I went over a blip in the road and not one, but both of my feet came off the pedals. Bizarrely, I didn't particularly panic, partly because I knew that to do so would be suicide and partly because I knew that the driver behind me knew I was there as we'd been overtaking each other fairly consistently for about half a mile in the heavy traffic.
I was teetering on the edge. I was balancing precariously with my feet away from the pedals (to prevent them from getting caught and causing me to be hurled over the handlebars). I had choices - I could swerve off to the side and hope I didn't fall off as I braked (but this depended on there being a space on my left, which there wasn't, and on me having enough control over which direction I was going in, which I wasn't convinced about) or I could carry on, hope I didn't either fall off or get hit by the car behind and try to get my feet back on the pedals. I chose the latter and it worked. I raised my hand in apology to the driver, and then I panicked and felt the tears pricking my eyes. "Don't bl**dy cry, you sap," I uttered under my breath.
James, blissfully unaware that I had had this experience, was ahead of me and slowed down as he arrived in Shoreditch Park so that I could catch him up. As I drew alongside him he said, "You're doing well today!" I don't think he expected the mildly hysterical response he got. "No I'm bl**dy not, my feet came off and there were cars and I nearly fell off and I couldn't find the pedals and I nearly fell off and there were cars and things and stuff" (or something along those lines). "But did you fall off?" "No." "So you did well, didn't you?"
My office mate and I have had a couple of discussions in the last couple of weeks, not all cycling related, about how success is only measured by the parameters one sets for it. We've come to the conclusion that all of the things we've done to date (and, touch wood, will do) are successful if the measure of success is that no-one died as a result. Therefore, I can conclude, wholeheartedly, that in spite of nearly falling off, my journey to work was entirely successful.
Monday, 22 April 2013
The Bionic Woman
No, not me - although I do feel like I could do with playing swapsies on a few bits today. The bionic woman I'm talking about is Claire Lomas, a former equestrian eventer who suffered terrible injuries in a fall from a horse back in 2007. While most of those injuries healed well, a broken vertebra left her paralysed from the chest down. Claire is absolutely determined that she will walk again, under her own steam, but in the meantime, she has been finding other ways to get about.
Some of you may remember Claire from last year's London Marathon. She completed the course (a feat in itself under normal circumstances) in 17 days using a "bionic" walking suit that enabled her to do the marathon on foot. She came in last, and because she was outside the organiser's cut-off time (usually about eight or nine hours) she was initially denied the reward of a finisher's medal, but Sir Richard Branson stepped in to award a medal to her personally when she finished. In her marathon challenge, she raised over £80,000 for Spinal Research, a charity which funds medical research around the world to develop treatments for paralysis caused by a broken back or neck.
If all that wasn't inspiring enough, Claire fancied a new challenge this year, so she took up cycling. Or, rather, she continued training on a static bike she already had before transitioning onto a hand-bike. Claire aims to cycle 400 miles around the country with a few stops along the way to raise awareness for spinal injury charities and to talk to schoolchildren about how they can achieve anything if they put their minds to it. If anyone can inspire children in that way, it has to be Claire Lomas.
When I look back on my achievements over the last year (and even further back to when I completed the London Marathon in 2010), they seem enormous to me, but when I compare them to the achievements of someone like Claire, I am in complete awe. Claire is just a year younger than me, and I am fortunate enough to have the use of all of my limbs, so the least I can do is, well, use them. I'll be cycling to work tomorrow and thinking about Claire's challenge. If I see her on her travels, I'll be stopping to cheer her on.
You can sponsor Claire's cycle here (though don't you dare forget about mine, here!)
Some of you may remember Claire from last year's London Marathon. She completed the course (a feat in itself under normal circumstances) in 17 days using a "bionic" walking suit that enabled her to do the marathon on foot. She came in last, and because she was outside the organiser's cut-off time (usually about eight or nine hours) she was initially denied the reward of a finisher's medal, but Sir Richard Branson stepped in to award a medal to her personally when she finished. In her marathon challenge, she raised over £80,000 for Spinal Research, a charity which funds medical research around the world to develop treatments for paralysis caused by a broken back or neck.
If all that wasn't inspiring enough, Claire fancied a new challenge this year, so she took up cycling. Or, rather, she continued training on a static bike she already had before transitioning onto a hand-bike. Claire aims to cycle 400 miles around the country with a few stops along the way to raise awareness for spinal injury charities and to talk to schoolchildren about how they can achieve anything if they put their minds to it. If anyone can inspire children in that way, it has to be Claire Lomas.
When I look back on my achievements over the last year (and even further back to when I completed the London Marathon in 2010), they seem enormous to me, but when I compare them to the achievements of someone like Claire, I am in complete awe. Claire is just a year younger than me, and I am fortunate enough to have the use of all of my limbs, so the least I can do is, well, use them. I'll be cycling to work tomorrow and thinking about Claire's challenge. If I see her on her travels, I'll be stopping to cheer her on.
You can sponsor Claire's cycle here (though don't you dare forget about mine, here!)
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