This is not only a journey for the body, it is also one of the mind. Days are
long on the bike. We thought we would have a lot of time for thinking, but the
majority of our thoughts do not extend much beyond our physical state and our
immediate surroundings. However, as energy levels ebb and flow, as the lift of
a good view or a friendly wave wears thin or the thought of hills ahead makes
the legs pre-emptively heavy, the perspective which we have on them yo-yo’s all
over the place in an unruly fashion.
It is very noticeable how much the mindset can affect the body – for instance, knowing when you start a big climb that lunch awaits at the top is relatively easy and feels quick. However, the same hill soon after lunch with 60km remaining makes the legs heavy and the distance crawl. Distraction is another gem – a good conversation can easily make 20 or 30km roll by without being noticed, although as fatigue kicks in good conversations can be hard to come by!
Anyone who has taken on a daunting challenge will be familiar with the regular swinging that takes place between macro and micro targets -this is our bread and butter. One minute, we are shooting through Sudan, a few days from Ethiopia and basically sailing our way towards Cape Town, the next, the very notion of Cape Town is incomprehensible, the task of every pedal revolution of the next 12 km’s to a coke stop seems unbearable and remind me again, how many k’s till lunch? As we have progressed along the road we have instinctively built in mechanisms to limit the buffeting between these two extremes, not least by recalibrating the macro target – Cape Town has been reeled in to achieving just the next three or four days and the immediate target is always in some way associated with our next feeding!
Setting the right expectations are crucial in managing our emotions for the day – knowing that lunch is at 60km makes that the focus for most of the morning. As the odometer ticks into the 50s, the countdown really begins, although depending on the terrain this final 10 can last for as long as a gruelling hour. If 60km passes and there is no sign of the lunch truck, then the legs start to feel very leaden, it is amazing how quickly we begin to question ourselves: ‘Are we on the right road? Did we miss it?’ The other day, our campsite was 3km further than we had been told, and uphill. Constantly scanning the road for signs of a marking those 3km were very hard indeed, especially for someone who missed the turn and carried on for another 5km! We play games with ourselves too, switching the settings on our bike computers to show time rather than distance, then underestimating how far we might have travelled when we flick them over, to avoid disappointment.
There is also trickery out there on the road. Long straight roads with hills are great optical illusions. Where the road dips down, often to a bridge over a dry riverbed and up the other side, it creates the appearance of a near vertical climb awaiting us. At these moments the heart races and you scrape everything you can from the downhill (even though Lizzie’s natural instinct is to squeeze the life out of her brakes) in preparation for pounding your way up the other side, which sometimes turns out to be really not so very bad at all. Especially in Ethiopia, due to the scenery, there are a lot of ‘false flats’ – these appear to be flat, as the gradient of the surrounding terrain matches the road, but are in fact up or downhill (more up than down it feels like!). When it looks flat but feels tough, it is hard on the mindset as you think your legs must be weak so we constantly tell ourselves ‘Oh, it must be a false flat’. However, when it’s a false flat going down and we are flying along, it is definitely because we are just strong that day!
But amongst all this there are some moments, maybe associated with an entertaining interaction with a passer-by, the impact of a superb view, or more frequently a meaty stretch of downhill, which you have to capture for they are the reason we are here. For me they often come in the mornings, when it is cooler, the sun is still low in the sky creating a softer light, the legs are fresh and the limited quota of enthusiasm for the day is still accessible. These are the moments when you look around at beautiful surroundings and revel in the wonder of how on earth it came to be that you are in the middle of Africa on a bicycle!
It is very noticeable how much the mindset can affect the body – for instance, knowing when you start a big climb that lunch awaits at the top is relatively easy and feels quick. However, the same hill soon after lunch with 60km remaining makes the legs heavy and the distance crawl. Distraction is another gem – a good conversation can easily make 20 or 30km roll by without being noticed, although as fatigue kicks in good conversations can be hard to come by!
Anyone who has taken on a daunting challenge will be familiar with the regular swinging that takes place between macro and micro targets -this is our bread and butter. One minute, we are shooting through Sudan, a few days from Ethiopia and basically sailing our way towards Cape Town, the next, the very notion of Cape Town is incomprehensible, the task of every pedal revolution of the next 12 km’s to a coke stop seems unbearable and remind me again, how many k’s till lunch? As we have progressed along the road we have instinctively built in mechanisms to limit the buffeting between these two extremes, not least by recalibrating the macro target – Cape Town has been reeled in to achieving just the next three or four days and the immediate target is always in some way associated with our next feeding!
Setting the right expectations are crucial in managing our emotions for the day – knowing that lunch is at 60km makes that the focus for most of the morning. As the odometer ticks into the 50s, the countdown really begins, although depending on the terrain this final 10 can last for as long as a gruelling hour. If 60km passes and there is no sign of the lunch truck, then the legs start to feel very leaden, it is amazing how quickly we begin to question ourselves: ‘Are we on the right road? Did we miss it?’ The other day, our campsite was 3km further than we had been told, and uphill. Constantly scanning the road for signs of a marking those 3km were very hard indeed, especially for someone who missed the turn and carried on for another 5km! We play games with ourselves too, switching the settings on our bike computers to show time rather than distance, then underestimating how far we might have travelled when we flick them over, to avoid disappointment.
There is also trickery out there on the road. Long straight roads with hills are great optical illusions. Where the road dips down, often to a bridge over a dry riverbed and up the other side, it creates the appearance of a near vertical climb awaiting us. At these moments the heart races and you scrape everything you can from the downhill (even though Lizzie’s natural instinct is to squeeze the life out of her brakes) in preparation for pounding your way up the other side, which sometimes turns out to be really not so very bad at all. Especially in Ethiopia, due to the scenery, there are a lot of ‘false flats’ – these appear to be flat, as the gradient of the surrounding terrain matches the road, but are in fact up or downhill (more up than down it feels like!). When it looks flat but feels tough, it is hard on the mindset as you think your legs must be weak so we constantly tell ourselves ‘Oh, it must be a false flat’. However, when it’s a false flat going down and we are flying along, it is definitely because we are just strong that day!
But amongst all this there are some moments, maybe associated with an entertaining interaction with a passer-by, the impact of a superb view, or more frequently a meaty stretch of downhill, which you have to capture for they are the reason we are here. For me they often come in the mornings, when it is cooler, the sun is still low in the sky creating a softer light, the legs are fresh and the limited quota of enthusiasm for the day is still accessible. These are the moments when you look around at beautiful surroundings and revel in the wonder of how on earth it came to be that you are in the middle of Africa on a bicycle!
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