Kota Tinggi to Rompin 4th-5th September:

I have always been encouraged by an article shared with me by PK on my birthday by Kristin Armstrong entitled " The Wall". Here it is:

Marathoners know the proverbial wall.


The wall is typically located someplace between miles 20 and 23, but it can sprout up anywhere. It can even begin as a simple, unassuming speed bump, but can grow up faster than kudzu in Atlanta. Suddenly you find something massive, directly in front of you, blocking the path between right here and the finish line.


The wall is constructed of many bricks; things like fear, pain, loneliness, hopelessness, burdens, doubt, guilt, exhaustion – physical, exhaustion-mental, exhaustion-emotional, exhaustion-spiritual. It is a black hole in our psyche, a gap in our fence, a riptide in our reservoir with the potential to carry us away. The wall becomes nearly physically tangible to a runner, but the same wall exists in other areas whether we choose to recognize it or not.


Maybe part of why I run is to get a good, hard look at that sucker. There is a part of me that likes to know, every once in a while, what I am up against on the inside. If we get up close enough, we might spot some loose bricks, wedge our fingers in and yank them out, revealing a rectangular shaft of light from the other side. Other times, we get up close enough and spot some handholds, footholds, a way up and over. How much time and mileage do we waste each time we try to go around our wall, instead of facing it head on?


There is even an expression which has become somewhat cliched, "hit the wall." People use this all the time in a non-running context, signifying reaching the end of the rope, an empty tank, a point of frustration, no return, giving up, turning back.


What does it mean to you to hit the wall? What kind of bricks are you stacking?


When you reach your limit, your wall, the end of yourself – what happens next for you? What do you find there? Release? Relief? Grace? Do you have a breakdown or do you break it down? Do you make a plan or an excuse? What gives – the terrain, or you?

I wonder if it's possible to imagine drawing a new starting line just when we think we can't muster another step. Some experienced runners say the race doesn't even begin until mile 20…until the wall. That's when you really find out what you are up against, and in that same sweet moment, what you are really made of.The truth is I fully expected to feel the 320 km. I had trained but in fits and starts and was not altogether

I fully expected to meet this entity on this ride. It would be my longest ride, plus it will be back to back. My preparations would not be what i would call adequate or for that matter something I would be happy about. Having fallen off the bike, i took a whole week off and then rode a bit before presenting my for the ride. Beneath my brave front was one of uncertainties.

It was eventful to say the least. I rode the first 15 km with my brakes against my back wheel. I was labouring and was uneasy and then frankly alarmed to see everybody passing me. By 10 km, my heart rate was 166 bpm and I was ready to give up. I was half thinking I may have been significantly deconditioned by the 2 weeks of recuperation. I finally stopped and discovered the problem, but not before wasting dollops of energy.

I managed to rendevous with my mates and for the rest of the way rode toegther for as much as possible. GL and CH rode fast and furious and we weer split before long. JN and SE was behind; GL and CH was ahead so JT and i took terms to pull each other. We RVed for lunch and then rode together after Mersing into the Forest which was a fabulous area with rolling hills. I had a puncture there and was relieved we could get the tire fixed before being on our way. CH then had a flat so we pit stopped again. By 130 km, my bottom was positively sore and I was only too glad to see the hotel.

After a night's rest, we re-assembled again and I could feel my heavy legs and was dreading the ride. Many a times I was tempted to not go on the road but hop instead into the bus. It did not help that at 6oo m out of the hotel, I had unbelieavbly another flat. By the time I was done, We were left waya behind and had to pretty much play catch up. I was suffering badly. My back was really hurting and by 20 km i had slowed to a crawl. It was 140 km to go and I saw that wall pretty early. It was everything as Kristin had said. When you are in that position, exhausted and hurting, you think of giving up. Your mind tells you all sorts of neagtive things." you are where u are becasue your training is inadequate; you should stop and what on earth are you tring to prove anyways). Many a point, I had to grit my teeth and looked like I was ansarling because I was cycling through the pain. If the forests were bad, the part from Mersing to Kota Tinggi was even worse. The hills that we did not seem to notice was towering and positively harder on the legs and the lungs now. I struggled with SE . A little later, JN remarked that at that point, I was back in the early days when I joined them: positively slow!

After enduring hours of back pain, I glaned at the speedo and was pleased we were only 30 km from the end. I stopped one last time; to wait for SE and then refueled before riding in together.

In this, I dug deep; really deep and I thought given the circumstances, I did decent. I was pleased not with my time or that I was behind and struggled whilst my friends were in front. I was pleased, I had the good sense to help other cyclists after I had fought my emotions and physical pain and a sense of personal triumph that I finished not because I was physically capable, but I was temperamentally and psychologically quite unwilling to give up; severe backpain not withstanding. I was bouyed by camaderie and esprit de corps of mates waiting up front for me whilst I was slow and kind of encouragement from fellow cycliss when my tank was long empty.