My secret weapon
Sometimes in life it is better to just say yes and worry about the practicalities later...
This is exactly why I am now a matter of weeks away from cycling almost 300 miles from London to Paris this August. As a keen cyclist that journey has been on my radar for some time, although unfortunately my enthusiasm for all things cycle related is not quite matched by my prowess on a bicycle.
The initial idea was postulated by my good friend Rachel, who wanted not only a challenge but also to help raise money for Sands, the charity that helped her family so much when her niece was tragically stillborn at full term. I, of course, didn't hesitate for a second before agreeing it was a great idea.
As the excitement faded like my legs on a steep hill, those pesky practicalities raised their ugly head. Although I would call myself a cyclist (I have all the required gear to do so) - I am not really built for it. At 6' 4" and around three times the bodyweight of Chris Froome, I have a strained relationship with the basic physics required. They thwart my dreams of cruising along effortlessly and every hill I summit is a triumph of stubbornness over talent.
Luckily I have a secret weapon. Well actually four if I am totally honest. They are called Rachel, Steph, Kate and Emily. Together we have supported, cajoled, sworn and bitched our way through hundreds of miles of training. They not only put up with seeing me in lycra, they make all those miles fun. We have become a team with a common goal and somehow being part of that team makes it seem less daunting. So, even though our legs may get tired and our undercarriages sore, I know that the laughing and jokes about me being their annoying big sister will carry us all the way to The Eiffel Tower.
