When did this happen?

And by ‘this’, I mean September. I have officially passed the point where I have less than a fortnight until the big ride, and I think I’m continuing a theme when I say that it is all a bit frightening. My last bike ride around my neighbourhood resulted in a scraped arm and a little ego battering, but I’ve decided that there is little point in riding around the narrow streets of Hither Green. There are too many sharp turns and slow pedestrians to hamper me. I have another cycling lesson scheduled in for tomorrow and I’m looking forward to practising riding along one-handed. This will help me learn signalling and make going on the roads a helluva lot safer. I’m hoping.

A little bit goes a long way

I’m really looking forward to cycling over the Bank holiday weekend. I’ve got another lesson with helpful Stewart from Cycling Instructor and then I’m heading for a long ride in the park. I’ve even managed to convince the boyfriend to hire a bike and head out into the sunset (sort of) with me on precious bank holiday Monday.

A few weeks ago, these cycling plans would have had me feeling wretched at the thought of the scrapes, bruises and mental anguish ahead. But today I feel surprisingly enthusiastic. I think it helps that a few colleagues have been really quite supportive, pointing out stories of people who are doing similar things and sponsoring me. I’ve even been having pure cycling conversations with one colleague, who was genuinely intrigued to know what it felt like to turn that corner this week.

It has made all the difference in the world. I was trying to type that without sounding corny but I just can’t help it; it sounds corny anyway.

A little bit of confidence

I haven’t posted a blog for over a week now and I feel guilty about it. And I feel really guilty because I haven’t ridden my bike in that time either. But I have thought about and become gradually more and more riddled with guilt. But this evening, I realised that tomorrow would mark exactly one month until my bike ride. And there’s nothing quite like pure, cold fear as a motivator.

I got home after work, clammy from the day’s humidity and too many meetings, changed into comfy loungewear and contemplated practising. I even picked up the cycling shorts before deciding that frankly, it was ridiculous that I was even thinking of wearing them to cycle down the road; they’re designed for pros, for goodness sake. Anyway, after about an hour of dilly dallying, I tried out the ole routine in the London drizzle. And blimmin heck, I even got all the down the street. And back again. And up the other side. I even managed to stay on and pedalling whilst ducking to avoid a neighbour’s overgrown hedge. And I even turned a corner. Victory is  mine.

I imagine this sounds faintly moronic. How can a grown woman derive SO much joy from just turning a corner? But for me to do it, without falling off and bruising my knee for the umpteenth time, is quite the achievement. And now I’m planning this weekend’s ride, and I’m almost looking forward to it. Almost.

Halfway There

I’ve never been a ’sporty’ type, not at school, university or anywhere else. But in recent years, I have come to understand the need to exercise to remain healthy and since joining a gym, I’ve made a concerted effort to exercise every week.

And then I signed up to do this bike ride. I am starting to wonder what I was thinking – the slight feeling of panic is starting to escalate. I’m weeks away and crucially, still not confident on my bike. The latter is obviously the worst issue of all, and has always been the fundamental problem with me taking part in this charity madness. But from other people’s cycling anecdotes, I always imagined that with a little hard graft, I’d be able to do it. Everyone always talks about cycling as if it really is the most natural thing in the world, and once you get it you really ‘get it’.

I appear to have blown this out of the water by only half ‘getting it’. If I feel calm and collected, I can push off with semi-ease, get going, pick up speed after a bit of handlebar toing and froing and then that panicked feeling rises in my throat and I’ve fallen over again. Or crashed into something (this resulted in a few real bruisers from my Hyde Park ride). This whole thing is looking even more ridiculous than usual.

Aches & Pains

Last Saturday, I went for a four hour bike ride in Hyde Park with my fellow charity cyclists, friends L & N. And I must admit that I was terrified of the whole thing, much before I arrived hot & sweaty at the park early afternoon. Everything was perfect – the day was nice & sunny, my friends friendly and encouraging, and I was finally in the park, practising my cycling skills.

But so far, I have only practised my cycling in the local park and in my back garden, and I’ve fallen off most times. So, the prospect of a long training ride was pretty frightening, as you can imagine. And the reality was pretty bruising – both literally and actually. We met in Hyde Park, ready to use the cycle paths for as many hours as possible. And I tried my best to delay my pals with my inane chatter but they saw through it and we were up and riding, or in my case attempting to ride, quick sharp.

We were in the park for about 2 hours and I tried my very best, but it just proved to me that I need to try, try and try again. There were times when I lost all confidence and could barely get started without crashing to the ground, spurring tourists and old age pensioners to offer help. I appreciated the offer but there is so very little that anyone else can do for me. I just had to get up, dust myself down and get back on. L & N also offered help but it seemed best that they carry on and let me catch up with them, which I eventually did. It helped to have them riding ahead of me – I really need the focus. But the main problem was that every time I saw a potential obstacle, anything from a young toddler on the path to another cyclist, I started to worry, wibble and within seconds, crash to the ground.

I need to build my confidence and stop treating the bike as if it is riding me rather than the other way round. Right, time to stop writing and go out for another spin. Wish me luck.

Feeling like a Kid all over again

Today I’ve been at home convalescing but as this is the second day of illness, I’ve started to get cabin fever. Despite not being able to walk very far without feeling quite sick, I decided that I needed to get out of the house. And trying to ride my bike seemed like the perfect little tit-bit of exercise that I needed today, something to get me moving, feeling less like a heffalump.

After much umming and aahing, drinking tea and reading Richard Branson’s autobiography (surprisingly riveting), I decided to get out into the garden with my bike. I live in London so the garden is not enormous but it does suffice, and as we have a garage, the concreted sections are just right for practising.

I approached the whole affair with a certain degree of trepidation – the last time I tried to ride in the garden, I received two cuts to my face and a couple on my hands and feet, for my trouble. On that occasion, I had gone head first into a bush. And it really hurt – much more than was to be expected. This time I steered clear of that particular bush (it looked menacing, even today) and stuck to the safer concrete.

An enclosed space proved to be ideal – my instructor had told me to practise riding in a circle, as this would help with my steering. And I didn’t go straight into any bushes today, even managing a turn. I was well chuffed.

So chuffed in fact, that I asked my Mum to watch. And it felt like being a child all over again, searching for that validation and receiving it. For the first time, I felt pleased that I’d learned to ride a bike as an adult rather than a child, appreciating it for what it was and helping me feel like a kid again for five minutes.After much umming and aahing, drinking tea and reading Richard Branson’s autobiography (surprisingly riveting), I decided to get out into the garden with my bike. I live in London so the garden is not enormous but it does suffice, and as we have a garage, the concreted sections are just right for practising.

I approached the whole affair with a certain degree of trepidation – the last time I tried to ride in the garden, I received two cuts to my face and a couple on my hands and feet, for my trouble. On that occasion, I had gone head first into a bush. And it really hurt – much more than was to be expected. This time I steered clear of that particular bush (it looked menacing, even today) and stuck to the safer concrete.

An enclosed space proved to be ideal – my instructor had told me to practise riding in a circle, as this would help with my steering. And I didn’t go straight into any bushes today, even managing a turn. I was well chuffed.

So chuffed in fact, that I asked my Mum to watch. And it felt like being a child all over again, searching for that validation and receiving it. For the first time, I felt pleased that I’d learned to ride a bike as an adult rather than a child, appreciating it for what it was and helping me feel like a kid again for five minutes.

Cycling the French way

The word ‘Cycle’ is so much more sophisticated than the word bike. I felt this difference between French sophistication and English glut on Saturday when I went to Paris, courtesy of Eurostar. It was a great day and made me want to be a little bit French (although I do really value the allowances of English eccentricity).

And I saw my first ‘Velib’ on Saturday. There are plans to introduce these in London in the next couple of years, and I really hope that this happens. It is a great way to encourage fledgling cyclists like me who may not have the space for a bike of their own but would use the service, especially as it is relatively inexpensive (well, in France anyway).

 And to add to my French feeling, I came across Garance Dore ’s latest post entitled ‘Me + My Cycle’. As always, beautiful pictures although they are from Amsterdam which makes me think that I want to be a little Dutch, alongside the French bit.

Courtesy of Garance Dore

Everyone’s Got An Opinion

It turns out that me learning to ride a bike is just too much to take for some people. And this is not some sort of dig at close friends or family, although some of them did laugh in my face when I first mentioned my project, but it does seem to be the case that everyone has an opinion on me not being able to ride a bike.

Let’s start with the first culprits; Friends & Family. It turns out that you can choose one half of that nearest & dearest set of people and not everyone was wholly supportive. In fact, people laughed, pointed and eventually told me to just get on with it. In some ways, because they are my nearest and dearest, I can understand that they’re worried I have bitten off more than I can chew and want me to get on with learning and training so I don’t collapse in a horrible sweaty mess on them in Cambridge at the end of the ride (let’s be clear – this will probably happen anyway).

But this group escapes most of my wrath. I am amazed at the way in which total strangers are happy to voice their opinions about my bike riding, or lack of, in the city where nobody ever speaks to each other. As a Londoner, it is unsettling to have strangers speak to you but even more so when they’re pointing and laughing. At least some of them thought they were helping by coming up to me and giving me tips. And asking why I can’t ride already.

Now some of these people were justified in reacting to me – I did almost mow down a patient from the nearby hospital during my first lesson. He had to shuffle out of my way. I felt bad. I was much less interested in the teenage boy who told me he could do wheelies and continued to show me what I should be doing by putting his hands on the bike and moving it around. I’m all for help but there was a certified instructor quite clearly standing next to me at the time.

But in some way, I suppose I have played on the shock factor of not being able to ride by deciding to do this charity ride in the first place. So maybe I’m inviting it and I suppose it is all kosher as long as they sign up to sponsor me and put their money where their mouth is. It is also incentivising, in a strange way. I suppose I better just get on with it then.

Learning to Ride a Bike – Part One

And after I received my bike, I went for my first lesson. That’s right, my first cycling lesson! It feels good to finally stop just talking, and writing, about cycling as an observer but actually learning to cycle myself.

I was starting to worry that I just wouldn’t be able to do it at all, the whole schebang. It is good to get on a bike and be able to conquer a fear in the process.

The lesson was with the helpful Stewart from Cycling Instructor and you get your first lesson free, courtesy of TfL. My borough is signed up so we met on a sunny afternoon in Ladywell Fields. My brother kindly rode/wheeled the bike there with me and I was glad he did because it was a solid half hour walk/wheel from my house to the park. And even he had to walk it up the hill in Mountsfield Park.

Stewart and I started off with the basics. And I learnt more, very quickly. And as I said it is very different to read, and write, about these things than it is to be actually doing it. It felt exhilarating to be on a bike.

And I actually managed to stay on although there were a few ‘incidents’ where I thought I was looking ahead but actually looking at something else entirely, usually the lamppost. This resulted in me riding very slowly towards inanimate objects, swerving and falling. This was all harmless fun for the casual observers until I rode, very slowly and unsteadily towards a pensioner who had to shuffle out of my way. Oops.

I managed not to injure myself too badly but there were a couple of falls. The first I careered straight into a fence and ended up lying, bike on top of me under a tree. It would all be going fine then I’d start thinking about what I was doing, handlebars swerving all over the place and BOOM, on the floor with nowhere to turn. Thankfully I only really hurt my pride!

Stewart, my instructor

The basics

My worried face

I’ll be posting a few more pictures from this session shortly.

Cycling gets all trendy

Cycling really does seem to be everywhere at the moment. Perhaps I have a warped view as I’m only just become interested in all things cycling recently, so it feels as if it is everywhere instead of actually being everywhere. But then again, the Tour de France has got all the sports fans all hot ‘n’ bothered so cycling really is in the news more than usual.

And then there’s the usual sites which post pictures of people looking attractive on bikes, like my favourite, Copenhagen Chic. So it should come as no surprise that Topshop has jumped on the cycling bandwagon with the launch of the Topshop Bicycle Club at their New York store. They offered free bike rentals, a photo competition, maps and all sorts. Tick tick tick.

New trend? Hot youngsters? Publicity a-go-go? Topshop’s there before you can say ‘learning to ride a bike’ with an American accent. And frankly, I applaud them. As a colleague of mine recently said, “Who knew people could look so good on a bike?”. Bravo.

P.S. As I’ve been accused of turning this into more of a cycling style blog than about learning to ride, I have avoided putting in any gratitious pictures into the body of this blog post. But if you fancy seeing the photos from the Topshop & Chictopia collaboration then click here.