Day 3. Nearly broken by Waterford to Youghal leg of CycleAgainstSuicide.com.
Hills. Rain. Head winds. Hills. More fuckin hills.
But fuck it, let’s carry on. Halfway through the day.
Note: swearing levels calculation is (hill gradient * length) / swear constant.
A story and shared experience we’ll remember: the Waterford homestay for 39 lucky CAS’ers was in a scouts training centre in Mount Melleray. After an hour’s drive out in 2 buses the hot food was very welcome at 8.30pm or so.
Unfortunately due to a minor mix up there was no bedclothes and the place was quite cold. With a minimum of stress and negativity – something quite normal in this group of people and event – a deal was struck with a hotel back in town and we were back on the bus and headed back the way. Finally changed out of the gear to hit the shower around 11.40pm, and a pint was deserved afterwards.
“Free the MM39” – Colm
This adequately summarises Day 2!
Not even half-way on Day 1 of 14 and I’m in trouble. Long climb out of south Dublin and it’s a struggle to make progress. If I get 27 more of these – one every half-leg – I will need to drop out.
At the back of the long stretched convoy, one of the marshals has given me a boost of energy, effectively telling me I needed to push on or quit. Anger can be very effective as a short-term fuel source, though I suspect the person doesn’t realise just what truly spurred me on.
Later I got a boost – a strong cyclist beside me with their hand on my back literally pushing up the hill. That was a first for me, not something I would normally like at all, but given the circumstances I kinda needed to accept it.
Made it through 1/14.
I’m lucky enough to be able to take the time off my work for up to 2 weeks if necessary, so I’m going to try do as much of this thing as I can. I will have to work some evenings, but that’s a small sacrifice.
Starting out from Leixlip, my first mechanical took 60 seconds – an issue with the newly installed rear mudguard stays having a minor disagreement with the chain – easily resolved and back on the road.
Pitstop at Heuston station after a quick spin in the N4, a random stranger asked me to mind his bike while he changed – came back in an orange jersey! That was a good start to the day, and made light work of finding the start at RTE.