My How Time Flies ...

More than a month since my last promise to start training for the Cycle Tour and now, 32 days later - KENAKO: It is here! This past week I have been to the gym all of twice and had my first 5km training session on the Flying Custard (I've decided some things shouldn't change and the original name for my bright yellow steed is perfect - thanks, Stuart!). Perhaps I should stagger my training and not go to the gym for a hectic session and then try to drag my large body around on a hand cycle afterwards? Need to organise my life better ...

On the positive side - Pedal Power Association has provided funding to The Chaeli Campaign for another 2 hand cycles. One is being custom-made for Juan (disabled in a car accident at the age of 19 - now 22) as part of his rehab and we purchased the Black Mamba from Andrew Stodel, who completed the Cycle Tour using the Black Mamba in 2010 (great time round 5hrs+). Mukhtar Lee, who is a member of the wheelchair dancing school Chaeli attends has expressed an interest in hand cycling and has now had two training rides - and his 1st two crashes! As he has never been on a bicycle before he has a lot to learn about road craft and which way to lean when you turn at speed (hence the crashes!) but he is as keen as mustard. Mukkie will also feel much better about it as soon as the bike is adjusted to suit his bod - in this pic we were just trying to let him get the feel of it. We promise to remove the pillows and scarves and get more serious about posture and equipment!

So what can you expect to see out on the road on Sunday afternoons as we head into serious training for next year's Big Race? Mukkie on the Black Mamba and Mad Mom Zelda on the Flying Custard: a formidable sight and we're excited about training together!

PS: Did I mention that the Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour entries open in 13 days' time? EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK!!!

Starting Up ... Again!

July 2010 - the World Cup has come and gone, soccer has a new champion and the world has a new soothsayer in the shape of Paul the Octopus. Time to turn away from the global and focus on what awaits me in my near future.

Taking stock reveals the following: 1 July saw Russ and I celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary; I'm in the middle of doing my Masters at UWC (another manic decision that is squeezing me in some very interesting ways!); work is as challenging and rewarding as ever; I haven't lost a kg since March and I also haven't had any significant exercise (barring a few random visits to the gym). In short - it is time to make a stand and declare my intention regarding my onslought on the 2011 Pick n Pay Argus Cycle Tour ...

Yup, I WILL be attempting the 109km around Table Mountain again in 2011. Yup, it WILL be on a hand cycle ... again. Yup, I WILL be raising funds as a Chaeli Rider in support of the work we do with differently-abled children. Yup, I AM crazy!

Today is 13 July and Cycle Tour 2011 happens on 13 March - exactly 8 months to go. I'm scared ... so much to do - so little time. I have to start getting out on the hand cycle to get some miles on my arms and I also need to lose some weight so that there's less of me to drag uphill by my arms. Watch this space - it promises to get interesting!

Again in 2011?

A day after the Argus Tour I discovered a myriad tiny muscles in my lower arms that I had not even known existed. Two days after Race Day I was still tired but feeling better. Three days after the Long Haul I decided that I will be doing the Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour again in 2011, using a hand cycle. I have unfinished business out on the mountain and need to finish the 109km course. Mad? Of course I am. Viva, MadMomZelda, Viva!

DONE!

So - the 2010 Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour has been and gone - and I'm still alive to tell the tale! I got to the start (late as usual!) so did not get to the front of group NH with the other hand cycles - instead lolled at the back. The 1st 3 kms nearly killed me: uphill onto the highway with a mean wind pumping straight into our faces. My heart dropped into the seat of my pants when I saw "106kms to go" and I was already huffing and puffing! Hospital Bend was fabulous and I was delighted to scream past bikes as Firefly sniffed the downhill. Wynberg Hill was a butt-breaker of note and I'd like to thank the angels of mercy (there were a few of them) who took the initiative and pushed me for a few metres - just the kind of help that I needed at that point. Seeing Big Mike at the top of the hill was a delight and then on to the Blue Route.

I loved Ladies Mile bridge. From a distance I could see our huge Chaeli Campaign banner and I knew that Erin, Chaeli, Russ and a whole group of our friends would be there cheering wildy. I wasn't disappointed. Hard work to Simonstown (having chewed on the beach that visited my mouth from Fish Hoek onwards) and I disembarked for the first time. This is where I nearly gave in to the temptation that my arm muscles were shrieking at me to stop. I decided to have a rest and took out my cell phone - a message from Erin: "Mom, I am soooo proud of you!" How could I disappoint my child by throwing in the towel after a mere 25km? So onward and outward I went.

Having now experienced, first hand, the toughness of hand cycling I hold my differently-abled friends who practise hand cycling as a sport up as absolute heroes. Firefly (as I named my faithful steed – called The Flying Custard by its previous owner) has done the Argus before, but I’m sorry to say we did not complete the course yesterday. After 9hrs and 10min on the road I was stopped at the top of Chapman’s Peak – 82km completed and 27km from the end. I started the race at 7:07 am and finished at 4:20pm. I’m chuffed though, especially as my furthest training session was 32km and the biggest ‘hills’ I climbed in training were a few bridges (I was terrified of training out on the road). It was a long, hard day but a good one!

This experience has truly changed my perception of what is possible and has made me realise how many challenges our differently-abled children face every day in just trying to get through the day to succeed in living normal lives. My 82 km was a slow hard grind, and I salute our children who live with grit and determination every day in their quest to claim their place in their schools and in their communities. It was tough, but all in all a good day that left me with a smile on my face (even though my body ached like crazy)!!

Thank you to the angels who helped push me up various hills - from Grant at Smitswinkel to the young boys at Ocean View. The shouts of encouragement from fellow cyclists was amazing and having some of them know why I was doing it was awesome. Thank you to the man in the BoE outfit who called out as he passed me: "Chaeli would be very proud of you!" All this helped to get me pumped up enough to keep going. And lastly, a HUGE shout out to all the people who sponsored me and gave me the added incentive to keep on keeping on. Our differently-abled children will benefit greatly from your generosity - thank you!

getting closer ...

Two weeks to go to Race Day and the last two weeks have been slow in the training department. I had a massive molar removed a week ago and fooled myself into believing that the grinding of my teeth as I inched uphill would adversely affect my dental health - so no cycling for 5 days. On Sunday morning I went out on a 30km ride and felt FABULOUS! What message is that supposed to send to me? That once a week is OK? Sheesh - this head stuff is starting to get to me ...

And now to all who read this blog: if my chronicles have made you smile, if you can relate to the magnitude of the challenge at hand because you are middle aged or overweight, or if you simply delight in the ludicrous pursuit of a massive adventure because it's so good to have a dream that's seemingly ridiculous to others - all of you - I appeal to you for your support! The more people I get to sponsor my efforts out on the road, the greater the incentive to persevere and finish, because the more lives of differently-abled children will be positively impacted. So - check out the flyer below and reach out generously - I'd love to hear from you!

What Do Mad Mom Zelda & Lance Armstrong Have In Common?

They're both doing the Argus Cycle Tour, but this Mad Mom is doing it on a hand cycle!

Lance might even be starting in the same charity group as I am as he's flying the Jag banner as I race in Chaeli colours. Would it be foolish of me to issue some kind of challenge at the start? The pic above is the 1st pic released of madmomzelda hurtling along the road. It is blurred because of the extreme speed I was travelling as I whizzed past my garden gate, with Russ at the ready with our point-and-shoot camera. I'm hoping for a better pic soon (Photoshop version where make-up is immaculate and my body has the curves correctly proportioned). Until then - observe the challenge presenting itself in this pic ...


On the downside: uphills are going to be interesting considering that I have to drag my voluptuous curves up the hills - and my arms are all I have to help me. On the upside: I'm as obstinate as an ox and I truly WANT to finish this 'race'. On Sunday I completed my 1st 30km training ride in 2hrs 10min (and I have a daft half-arm suntan to prove it). There was an interesting test that presented itself at the bridge on Princessvlei Road. A dude (approx 40 and on an old-fashioned 'dikwiel' bike) and I arrived at the robots leading to the bridge at the same time. With my superior arm thrust I pulled ahead of him. Due to my larger frame (mine - not the bike's ...) he overtook me as I slowed on the lower slope. And then, halfway up the bridge, he got off his bike and started walking. Driven by oestrogen (and knowing that I can't afford any hill to beat me before I get onto the road on 14 March) I powered my way up the bridge at 2km/hr, one armswing, one heartbeat, one moebie deep breath, at a time. The dude was clearly embarrassed to be 'beaten' by this grey-haired old duck going at a snail's pace and lagged behind.

When I hit the crest of that hill I could hear the roar of the crowds, could feel the warm glow of accomplishment and could taste the victory of a challenge well met. Or maybe it was just the rush of blood through my temples as I knew that after every uphill the sweet exhiliration of a downhill awaits. And as I zoomed downhill at 40km/hr I knew that the only voice I need to hear is my own, egging myself on to attack the next long stretch, the next hill, the next victory ...

Oh the hills and dales ...

Hmm. So my arms DO work, they ARE strong, but when they have to multi-task at speed it gets a bit hairy. Changing gears, breaking and turning whilst trying to power your way around a corner going uphill - there's a trick that I'm constantly practising. Not so easy. But on the positive side - I AM moving. The slowest I have gone is 2km/hr (the disastrous killer hill on Firgrove Way just before you hit the circle on Ladies Mile Road) and the fastest I've clocked is 40km/hr (same hill going in the opposite direction - my much preferred option!).

Two weeks ago I started with a 5km ride and this Saturday I clocked my first 20km ride (with a 15km ride on Friday and Saturday). I'm getting there. I am consciously trying to get a few hills in without killing my start-up enthusiasm, so am opting for conquering bridges as opposed to 2km mountain uphills. The bridge on Roscommon Road has started featuring on my route and please keep in mind that I'm still wary of traffic and terrified to be on the road, with my wheels being so low and so wide.

All in all, I'm excited about the progress and I'm getting interesting comments from all kinds of spectators. The ones I fear the most are the large dogs who find me particularly interesting. They are on eyeball level with me and I find them pretty daunting. I keep hoping that their owners have them on a short leash and that I only meet them on a downhill ...

Eureka!

As luck would have it somebody wanted to sell a superb racing hand cycle and last Sunday Russ and I went to check it out. The Chaeli Campaign bought it to be used in our rehab programme (post Argus - Juan is amped!) and on Tuesday the worthy steed arrived at my door. The moment of truth had arrived!

I stole the short pillow off Chaeli's bed to make the canvas seat more comfortable, once again donned the headgear and gloves and took my first circular sweep of the arms as Firefly (yup - I've named the bright yellow frame that will be my constant companion over the next few weeks!) rolled onto Hampstead Way - ready for my first training ride through Bergvliet. What a feeling! Being in charge of my own mobility on a wheeled object (after so many angst-filled months of hoping that my knee would recover in time) and having the wind whip my face felt astoundingly good. It also made me realise what an awesome device hand cycles are - as this is precisely how people who can't use their legs must feel when they compete using these amazing cycles. And somehow I just felt that my doing the Argus on a hand cycle had become so much more meaningful - it just felt RIGHT.

Russ followed me (afraid I was going to be squashed like a toad in the road - I am only six inches off the tarmac!) and it was not a speedy journey. What looks like the straight and narrow does actually have a sloping uphill gradient and learning to control two sets of gears on each handle, break on one handle, steer with hands, turn corners and control direction as well as power the bike with your hands, is quite a mindblowing thing on the first attempt! But it was magic! Russ convinced me that 5km was enough for my 1st trip, and I eased back into our driveway, excited that I could do it. The Argus is ON and I am IN!

No "first" is ever free of war wounds. We had not adjusted the height of the handles and my thunder thighs had got in the way when I had to turn corners. I discovered that in my eagerness to complete the course I had powered my way through the pain of the handles cutting a groove into my thigh and an impressive purple/blue bruise had already started emerging. I even smiled at that. And then the anxiety set in as I asked myself: "How the heck am I going to get up from this very low seat - with the handles in the way - with my crock knees that cannot bend and cannot absorb the pressure of getting up?"

My head spun with so many options that I rendered myself totally useless and could not think of a single sensible thing to do. In desperation I flung my body sideways off the seat onto the ground and then tried to lift my left knee over the handles. And there I sat. I turned onto my hands and knees, and as my stiff and injured right knee does not bend, the only way I can get up off hands and knees is pushing off with my hands and keeping my legs straight and out to the side - bum in the air - like a giraffe at a watering hole. At this stage Russ and I are hysterical with laughter and Russ is desperately sorry that he does not have a video recorder handy. Will the spectators on Boyes Drive and Chappies be frightened by this spectacle if I need to dismount Firefly in order to walk up the hill? Clearly I need to find a more dignified exit strategy ...

Finding The Way

My euphoria regarding the bending right knee was short-lived, with a good dose of reality forcing me to accept that there is no way that my knee gingerly going through a 360 at full stretch is ever going to translate into being able to pedal with force for 109km in 8 weeks' time. The sad reality = my crocked knee could prevent me from competing in the Argus Cycle Tour on 14 March.

The good news is that I LOVE crisis and the challenge has now merely changed shape. The lesson I have taken from this? DON'T try to use what doesn't work - harness what DOES work. My hands and arms are amazing - and lifting Chaeli for 15 years has made me as strong as an ox - soooo ... I will now be competing on a HAND CYCLE. Please feel free to forward the contact details of any good shrinks. My friends reckon I need one. Badly.

Nothing ... then a sign

Nothing, no action, gymless for a good (or is it a bad?) 6 weeks. Christmas holidays were fabulous: I ate drank and was definitely merry, read 4 books in 7 days and never gave a thought to my big challenge. My legs reverted to jelly and I undid all the good work and focus that happened with 6 weeks of being grilled by the biokineticist. Today I kicked my own butt back into the gym!

14 January 2010: A new day, a new year, and EXACTLY 2 months to go before I have to do my thing on a bike for 109km! Nervous tension awoke me at 5am and I dragged my festive season-supplemented body out of bed, donned my slimming black track pants and headed for Virgin Active (wondering if my membership had been revoked due to poor attendance!). 20 minutes on the cross trainer, 5 minutes on that torture machine for your arms (my mind had started heading in the direction of possibly needing to look at hand-cycling the Argus?!) and then I headed upstairs for the adductor muscle machine - my favourite. I wondered why the other early morning fitness fanatics were giving me such strange looks, and then I saw myself in the mirror in front of the adductor machine. Oh, the horror ...

I am definitely not your movie star look-alike who cries copious on-screen tears and still has clear eyes and manages to look frail, fragile and whimsically beautiful. In the same vein, when I exercise I do not gain a ruddy, healthy tinge, I go beacon red and puff up and out with extreme exertion. And there was the proof of my labour staring back at me: my face looked like a nuclear reactor waiting to wreak havoc and chaos on the world. It was WAY beyond a glow ...

So, I smiled winningly at the concerned faces I saw staring back at me from the rowing machines and started adding to my radiance by doing 100 reps to remind my adductors who was in charge. As a last-moment act of defiance before I left the gym I ambled across to the cycling machine that has defeated me for the past months, with limited rotation in my right knee preventing me from getting both legs to do a full 360 on the pedals. Effectively, I have not yet been able to cycle (despite many sessions of noodling in the pool with simulated water cycling). Lo and behold, with the seat on 7, full extension of my left leg and gritted teeth, for the FIRST time I managed to get my right leg to do a 360!

I mince my way through five minutes of gingerly executed cycling movements, with mounting excitement! I WILL be able to ride a bicycle on 14 March! Now I need to do something about putting sufficient miles on my legs (not to mention toughening up my nether region - sore after 5 minutes of stress and strain in the saddle)! Oh the joy! Oh the possibilities! Oh the fear!