I had an inkling today would be awful. Last night in Penzance, the weather was so terrible, the lampposts were bending under the weight of torrential rain and gale force winds. Still, the beer was chilled at the pub I chose that had a room and it turned out to be something of a Gastropub with a great local following and a great chef. Unusually for me, I even said that to him! Having spent many hundreds of nights in crap chain hotels over the past ten years, for once luck was with me. The Inn of choice delivered an awesome Beef & Ale pie with mash (not chips when I asked) and green beans (not peas) and after watching the final episode of Spooks (unsatisfactory, in my opinion) remember not a thing until the 7am alarm call.
There will be two memorable things about today. The first was the breakfast served in my room at a time that I wanted. I suppose posh folks order room service breakfast but I never have so it was an extraordinary treat. Not known for my breakfast ability and always in trouble with Simon Coach for being rubbish at nutrition, I defied myself and downed almost a full Cornish hot breakfast. Swerved at the fried bread and tomatoes but otherwise, a hearty start.
Shame the weather was already showing its teeth. All the way to Lands End on narrow windy roads in poor light, I thought that things could only get better. Err no. But I had so many nice texts and one that said the weather would be awful but ignore it and keep going that I thought that today, all I could do is see what it brought.
Gordon Bennett. Have you been to Lands End recently? I have. Yonks ago. With my parents as I child. I knew there was a signpost to be photographed by but I had no idea that the place had been turned in to a theme park. I'm sorry but on a day like today, there was no way I'd pay £3 to park so in typical Ruston fashion, blagged it in to the Hotel car park and thought 'try me'. A lucky move as my bike chain had come off en route and two rather handsome and dashing young men helped me to re-thread it. In fairness, it isn't hard but I've always had someone else to help me on my rides and normally don't want my nail varnish to be chipped.
Before the Gals all text about pulling fortuitously at Lands End, can I point out that I've only once been GF to a younger man. That was when I was 17 and it confirmed my life long dedication to older men which I doubt will ever turn in to a Samantha nonchalance - though never say never, clearly. They were impressed that I was going to JOG. They were cycling to London. Quite honestly, the only two cyclists I saw all day.
So, given a hand, photo taken, there was no choice but to set off. I would like to mention that I was having severe misgivings. Obviously. Setting off in a severe weather warning drew on my inner Yorkshire - 'It'll be right' - gene and also my commitment to believing that this country has gone completely mad in its risk adverse intolerance of conker fights. A bit of cornish rain.. I mean, it can't be that bad. Can it?
Oh dear. The very same roads that I'd travelled on to get to Lands End and commented 'I hope I don't come back this way - I will cry' were clearly the roads of choice. The first ten back to Penzance were just dismal. Lucky I had my Friend's text ringing in my ears. I couldn't see a thing through the rain.
There is no inner racing snake in me. My only desire is to finish. The lovely route book I'm following religiously talks of the scenery and the attractions of the route. Clearly, no one has ever ridden this route in these conditions. Mount St Michael probably is visible on most days. Today, let me tell you, it was a looming mound in an angry sea so I think I've seen it but to be honest, I wouldn't swear to it!
The expletive-omiter is definitely on fire. I could regale hours and hours of miserable cycling but I want to forget it so here is what I decided:-
(1) Swearing is good;
(2) Crying is good (particularly when no one knows it isn't just rain);
(3) LEJOG has now been renamed as the LEJOG UK Gastronomic Churchathon based on the fact that the best thing about the start and end of the day has been the food and hospitality that the route took me past so many awesome churches (we were SO good at building churches in our day) and I'm following the route religiously;
(4) Next time I mention my next challenge, I'm not going to choose it. I'm going to let my Best Friends decide. Clearly, I'm fundamentally incapable of deciding what is good for me. I kept hearing in my ear, a previous Fundraiser for the Yorkshire Haven saying to me - 'But Sarah, there are easier ways to raise money'. Boy, did she have a point all day today;
(5) I wasn't designed to be by myself. All of my challenges have had other participants. Team work is good. Being alone, cold, wet and (sorry Mum & Dad) but f****** miserable is not a great place to be. Never again will I do a challenge alone.
So, there we are. When I eventually rocked up in St Austell, taking twice the time I should have, having completed only half an Ironman distance cycle, I realised that of the many difficult and thousands of miles I've cycled, today has been the hardest ever. First days are always hard. Today took my breath away. Particularly when I was almost taken out by a big blue truck that was in a hurry and carved me up in the interest of expediency.
At that stage, as I stopped and almost threw up in a layby just before halfway, I nearly gave up. I'm a nervous lady cyclist at best. Sodden, frightened and lonely, it was a close call. So to the Asda delivery driver that became exasperated by my caution in the down hill road flooding on a single file road in the middle of a debris strewn forest - and shouted 'get pedalling'- bet you've never cycled from Lands End to St Austell, never mind JOG.
My B&B tonight is a dream. Behind the door as I stumbled in, there were two fluffy white dressing gowns. Give you one guess who is laid out on the bed in it after a long hot shower. Would have killed for a bath but little things always make my day. I'm from a Hull council house you know!
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