A packing story
“John I’ve got to stop!” I shouted as the pain in my neck stabbed me again. We rolled to a halt about 2 miles outside Cawdor near Inverness. It was just before 7 am and I had not slept for over 24 hours. I had completed 1182 km of the 1408 km of the LEJOG 1400 Audax event in 96 hours and there was 226km and 20 hours and forty minutes to go. I was exhausted and struggling to hold my head up riding the bike.
John Watt and I had been cycling together since 10pm the
previous evening when we left Braemar as darkness was descending. The organiser
had encouraged us to ride together for safety’s sake and we both readily agreed
to that. We had cycled and walked over the four long climbs including the
infamous Lecht with its gradients of over 20%. John had been a great riding
companion. The sun was now beginning to warm us.
The intermittent pain in my neck had started to get worse
when left the Braemar control. I had taken a tablet of paracetamol to dull it, but I did not want
to have any more as it would make me drowsier than I already was. Not something
to be when riding a bike.
My frequent needs to stop were slowing us down, and I was
concerned that at our rate of progress neither of us would finish in time. I
really wanted to have a snooze by the side of the road for half an hour but the
midges were deterring that. John was clearly capable of continuing faster than
me, and now we were out of the hills there was less of a need for safety in
numbers.
Another LEJOG cyclist went by, shaking his fist in the air
in a show of determination. I shouted to John “I am going to stop and call my
wife to come and pick me up in Cawdor. You go with him. Finish it for me.” John
looked at me sadly and chased after the other rider who was disappearing up the
road.
I rolled down the hill into Cawdor where there was a large
grassy area around a war memorial, free of midges. I sent a message to the
organiser, stopped my Garmin recording, and sat down and waited for my lift.
That is what happened. Now here is the alternative reality.
I did not message the organiser and stop my ride. I phoned my wife asking her
to meet me in Kirkhill. I then got the groundsheet out of my bag, laid it on
the grass by the war memorial, and slept for an hour. I woke up feeling
refreshed after the nap and carried on to Kirkhill 33 km away where I slept for
another two hours. My wife Esther massaged my neck and put some tape on it. I
departed the Kirkhill control just before it closed at 12:15. The ride of 193
km to John O’Groats at 18 kph with one hour of stops took me 12 hours and I
arrived at John O’Groats at midnight, three hours and forty minutes before it
closed.
So why did this imaginary outcome not happen? I had an easy
option: my wife with a car. I decided to drop out when I was feeling my worst. I
miscalculated how much time I had left, thinking I could not finish in time when
I could. The main lesson learnt was “sleep on the decision to pack.” Make the
decision when you have had a rest and made a realistic estimate of your finish
time. And beware of the easy options!
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