Je parle un peu le français

A while ago I wrote about future cycling goals. I wanted to ride in France and maybe Spain. Our close neighbour is top of my list so I started learning French. 

It's tough going; for the first few weeks nothing seemed to sink in. The last attempt to learn a language was the first three yearsat secondary school. It was German and no-one liked the teacher, so we didn't put much effort into it. I dropped the subject as soon as I could, and like most British people took advantage of English being widely spoken around the world.

A few years ago I did try to pick up a little Spanish when we had a few holidays in Gran Canaria. But it was only while we were in the hotal and didn't get much further than hola, gracias and una cerveza por favor - hello, thanks and a beer please -; not very good I admit.

What progress have I made in the last month? It's starting to sink in, I can recognise words when they are spoken to me. I can read and understand basic sentences, and string simple phrases together. I struggle with masculine and feminine words, the accents when I have to write answers and spelling. 

My grandaughters visited to see how I was doing. Marcelina greated me in French, my mind went blank. Not good; I couldn't even remember "Je suis bein, merci". I did however have "à bientôt" ready when she left. She is multilingual; speaking English and Polish perfectly and learning Spanish as well as French. I don't know how she does it. Actually I do; she is a very clever young lady. My other two grandaughters will be just as inteligent, they are all so quick at picking up new skills.

To save you googling the translations.

Je parle un peu le français - I speak a little French.

Comment ça va? - how are you doing?

Je suis bein, merci - I am fine, thank you.

à bientôt - see you soon.

I try to spend at least half an hour a day practising. It's not yet a habit, I find I'm too easily distracted. I am determined to keep at it. I woud really like to at least hold short conversations with people during my visit next year.

A month has passed

It's been a month since that fateful ride. The longest period I've had off the bike since I started cycling as an adult.

I seem to be recovering faster each day. My leg is no longer swollen, I've had my stitches out and an appointment with a physio is scheduled for Monday.

I won't be able to do much until my x-ray and meeting with the consultant next month. I'm hoping they will tell me when I can start riding again.

Bruising is still showing and I do get hip, knee and ankle pain occasionally, so it's not all great news. But I can live with it because of the progress I feel I'm making.

The surgery will leave an eleven cm scar, but that should be the only lasting evidence. 

The worst part is the improving weather, I look through the window and wish I could get outside.

I have lost muscle mass and I suppose fitness, it's why I have altered the Solstice ride in June. My biggest worry is that I won't be given the okay to do it.

My bike is being repaired by one of my cycling club, Oxted Cycling Club. They have been great, a whip round will pay for the repairs, plus a new helmet and clothes damaged by the crash. They have been checking in with me.

Family, friends and neighbours have also come to my aid. Marcia's carers have increased their support too.

Colleagues have bolsterd my spirits.

And work has given me the time to adjust, and continue to support me.

And of course the NHS. I large number of people have been involved: from the intial 999 call through A&E, x-rays/CT scanning, and the surgery team. Everyone on the ward, plus physio, cooks and cleaners. Patient transport to get me home. Then the district nurses, and my own doctor. Everyone involved with my visits on Monday and next month. And the contining physio I'll need. I have never taken it for granted, but it is easy to forget how well the system works.

I am very lucky to have this around me, it makes a big diference. 

It all means the dark periods are less troubling, and I emerge from them far quicker.

A change of plan

A change in circumstance - my bike crash - has meant a rethink about my June challenge. I potentially face another couple of months off the bike, hopefully it will be less. I was confident I could ride 250 miles in a day. Now I think it's maybe 50/50. It depends on getting the all clear from the hospital to start walking and riding. Then building strength and fitness in time. Will the hills be too much for my hip? 

I decided to break the journey at Stawell, a distance of 150 miles leaving a little over 90 the next day. This second section of the ride is the hilliest, I'll have more time to climb them.

It does mean less time with my sister, I know she'll understand.

The family were a little rattled by recent events, so I'll be carrying a tracker, with an emergency button.  I can send them a link so they can follow my progress and it will call for help should anything happen.

I may do the same for the long rides I have planned in the coming years. 

I hope my present and future sponsors don't mind the slightly less epic single day distance.

____________________________________________________________________________

Recovery update.

I am in less pain and the swelling is much reduced, but the bruising is now blooming. 

It's like Andy and his technicolour dream leg.

Harder than I thought it would be

Sunday morning of the 27th Feb, a gentle ride to marshall a sportive. An early start; I left the house around 7 a.m. Nearly to my post I encountered some black ice. The roads until then had been dry and safe. This one had a puddle surrounded by the ice. I didn't appreciate that fact and went down hard. The driver behind me asked if I was okay, I knew I'd done some damage, I didn't know straight away how much. I tried to stand to pick up my bike, I was also sat in a cold fairly deep expanse of water. I got as far as being upright, but my left leg was weak and very painful; so I sat down very quickly.

The driver asked if he should dial 999, my immediate answer was yes. 

A runner was next on the scene, she organised some extra layers to keep me warm; a coat from the driver and a sheet from a delivery van that has also stopped. 

The ambulance arrived within about twenty minutes, it may even have been quicker. I was soon breathing in gas and air as quickly as I could. Some morphine helped when they lifted me onto the stretcher.

I was at hospital in no time being assessed. After many x-rays and a CT scan; the news wasn't good. The radiographer had to take two snaps of my chest because it appears I have extra long lungs. A broken hip would mean an operation and a long recovery, damn.

It all happened very quickly, I was waking up from the surgery by 6 p.m. The recovery started as soon as my walking aid was delivered on the Monday. I was given a competence test and cleared for moving around the ward. I also had physio moves to do whilst stuck in bed.

Six weeks on the zimmer frame with no weight on my left leg. Then hopefully two months on the exercise bike and I'd be on the road again. I'll need to build fitness and strength for the Solstice ride.

After a few days I have started to adapt to a life of hopping about. The self administered blood thinning injections cause a little anxiety. 

My family, neighbours, and friends including the newest from my cycling club are rallying around; it is truly moving. 

Somethings I have learned:

Using the zimmer frame is tiring, more than I thought it would be. It's good for building upper body strength though.

Using a small shoulder bag means I can carry stuff.

I now wear a cycling jersey, the three pockets on the back are great. Easily accessed and not compressed when you sit down.

Everything takes longer than expected.

My balance on one leg is getting better.

You will have dark days when it all seems too much. A quote present in the books I read is very true. It never gets worse all the time. The situation will improve.

When people offer help; accept it. It comes from a good place and you know you'd offer the same if the roles were reversed.

It takes time to heal, so celebrate each small improvement.

Running book review

I've been reading In it for the Long Run, by Damian Hall. Available here.

I was interested because it's more about why he completes in endurance events, like most of the books I've been reading. And less about how; the technical stuff is interesting and useful, but not always as riveting. 

Obviously what I do is several leagues below Damian's achievements. I haven't and will not be representing my country. But the thoughts that drive me to new challenges are the same. And better explains my future goals.

We do have a tenuous link; at school I ran cross country whenever I could. My reasons differed though. I didn't particularly like running, but I had a greater dislike for team sports. I was good at neither.

Damian talks about his obsession, or addiction to running. Focussing on it, at times, to the detriment of other commitments. To be as successful as he is, you need to be. I can be as focused and I'm not always comfortable with being that way.

He touches on weight issues, a coach he had early in his career insisted he keep shedding the kilos. It's certainly on my mind at times. Being light means fast up hills, but not eating enough also means a lack of energy, and endurance. And longer term health implications. I have it under control now, but only because I don't want to be slowed for any reason. I follow cycling and it's an issue that is just starting to be talked about.

I've previously written about food, or fueling whilst riding. I can now add another item to the list; custard. I haven't tried it; let me know if you do. Obviously I'll make a vegan version.

Everyone has heard of running marathons, even doing them many days in a row. Damian would run one before breakfast. Or as a commute to work. I have no comprehension how that must feel. The distances ridden and have planned elicit surprise and disbelief in family and friends. It's the same reaction Damian's book produces in me.

What marks it out as a great book is the humour and "matter of factness"; if that makes sense. The achievements attained and challenges overcome are incredible, but there is no boasting. Just insight into what drives him, and how he prepares.

Unfortunately it was such a good read, I finished it quickly. I took every opportunity to discover what he did next; to learn more.

If, like me, you think that running 26 miles is a long way; then you have to read this book. The human body is capable of covering amazing distances. What's even more incredible is that these are off road miles, many in the dark, and the middle of nowhere.

Not going out

When I started to write this storm Eunice was in full force across the UK. The trees in adjacent gardens were swaying considerably more than I thought they could endure. A few of their fences were down. I knew I wouldn't be out on the bike on Saturday unless it calmed down. That night's session would be in the garage on the trainer. I haven't been out after work since December. I tried to get out in the dark, but it was draining my motivation. It wasn't the cold or wet; I rode most of the previous winters. The reasons I didn't this time round were feeling rushed, and drivers.

Let me explain.

I finish work, cook and eat dinner, then go out. Which means I get back after eight. It's only a short time before we prepare for bedtime. As it gets colder and wetter the layers increase so it takes longer to get sorted. 

I use to go out before eating, but that's rush hour. Around here and I guess most places that means impatient drivers. It was getting too stressful, made worse by the dark. Later in the evening isn't much quieter.

It's also cheaper; running two bikes means a lot more maintenance. The stationary bike just wears out the rear tyre. I can swap it for the front to extend the time before a new one is needed.

I don't know if I'll be riding outside after work when the light returns to the evenings. It doesn't feel worth it. I don't have the hills, but there are no downhill bits either. I'm sure the constant resistance is keeping my fitness levels up. It feels like I'm constantly climbing a gradient. 

And did I mention impatient drivers?

Saturday morning was bright, clear and completely calm, but cold. I could have gone out; instead I went shopping and tackled some jobs around the house. Spending an hour in the garage seemed a good compromise. I did it again in the afternoon as the rain lashed down and the wind roared once more.

On Sunday the wind was back, but much more subdued than Friday. It was therefore safe to head for Westerham, and a coffee with Matt. In fact I overdressed and was boiling hot on arrival, and because the journey home was into a headwind I arrived back at the garage soaked in sweat.