In my first post I opened by explaining how exhausted I was. Sitting here writing about days four and five of my Women V Cancer Cycle Kenya challenge a couple of days after I have completed it I think probably demonstrates the sheer exhaustion felt from then on in - I simply didn't have the energy to type!
It's hard to find the words to describe the last few days, but I shall try my best and where words fail me I'll rely on the pictures to tell the story.
Day four starts with yet another intense early morning. Having completed the insanely huge 26KM steep hill the day before (you can read about days one, two and three here) my body feels heavy as I drag each limb out of bed one by one and slide onto the cool tile floor where I attempt to dress myself laid down. Seriously, if anyone has any tips on how to achieve this, they'd be gratefully received.
Having been briefed the night before, I'm prepared for the 92KM cycle ride up and down 'undulating hills'. 'Undulating hills' are Henk (South Africa's answer to Mr Motivator, but less manic and more motivating), the trip manager's poetic way of saying you'll be up and down more times than a yo-yo. As a group we've come to an understanding of Henk's mighty pep talks now:
'Just two more hills' means 'you have two more small mountains to climb and a few more hills that I don't count'.
'A very nice long stretch of downhill' means 'there's a short reprieve, but what comes down must come up'.
'That was one of the toughest hills' means 'there's plenty more horrendous hills just like that one to come'.
As the days have gone on we've noticed that more and more locals are venturing out of their houses, schools and places of work to come and welcome us to Kenya. I hadn't thought much of it, until this morning when over breakfast I watch a report about us on KTN national news. It turns out the news team the group met on day one have been showing the report every day since, so as word has spread, we've become celebrities in Kenya and everyone wants to meet us! You can watch the news report in the video above. As we cycle through a small village, students at a secondary school come running out to cheer us on as we pass.
Passing a township, I nearly crash my bike when I become distracted by the bling coffins for sale on the side of the road. Friends and family, please take note I want tinsel on my coffin when I die.
I know I've already mentioned the wonderful children, but I think these photos sum up their vibrancy, enthusiasm and purity - their happy presence simply fills me with joy. Apologies, I know it sounds a bit pukey, but it's true.
Some of the flora of the Rift Valley, Kenya.
Most of my vegetables come from Kenya, so I knew it was a fertile country, but this cactus is ridiculous. That is a real, full size person standing underneath it.
Some of the fauna in the Rift Valley, Kenya.
Don't worry mum, I wasn't on my bicycle when I took this picture - I was on a bus in the Nakuru National Park.
Pelicans in the Nakuru National Park.
Zebra in the Nakuru National Park.
Come on, I work in fashion, how could I avoid noting the sartorial delights of dressing for best?
I open my eyes on day five feeling shattered, but positive as it's the last day with just 52KM to complete. I stand up, stretch and start getting dressed. Suddenly a strange wave of nausea washes over me and my stomach starts to cramp. I run to the bathroom shouting 'no no no', punctuated with a fair few expletives.
After a nasty bout of D&V, I drag myself downstairs for breakfast, of which I have no appetite for. I force down a banana and head outside to my bicycle. Just as I'm stretching, another wave of nausea hits and I run to the nearby tree and violently throw-up my banana. The team doctor comes over to check on me and advises me that I should ride in the bus today. I simply reply with 'no, I'll be fine in a minute'. I've cycled every single kilometre of this challenge; I'm not about to give up at the last hurdle.
We set off and I'm feeling a rather weak and feeble, but not bad enough to get on that damn bus. We cycle for 20KM before we stop for the first break. I'm at the back of the group with my hugely loyal and supportive cycle buddy Janet who has chosen to stay with me as I slowly make my way to the resting point.
Another session of D&V hits as I put my bicycle down, so I run off to the toilet, which could also be described as a stinking shed with a hole in the ground. I still don't want to give up so get back on my bike and start peddling. There's just 32KM to go at this point.
In the heat, today it's 36 degrees, and in my state I'm now starting to weaken and need to slow down even more. Lovely Janet stays with me, occasionally fighting off Henk who I can tell wants to put me on the bus.
At one point, half way up a hill, I need to take a rest - the driver of one of the support vehicles grabs hold of me and frogmarches me into the shade as I can barely stand up. The team are so supportive and all promise they won't make me get on the bus, but I do need to cool down and take it easy. My neck is really stiff as I've had my shoulders tensed, so Janet gives me a little massage and to my horror Henk spots it. He comes over with his giant hands offering his services. I've heard about Henk's infamous massages, so you can understand I'm wary, but before I know it he's got hold of me. He presses his thumbs into my neck and back and I yelp in pain, he effectively tells me to man up and continues to press hard. I suffer a couple more minutes of Henk's manhandling when he finally releases me, stepping back to admire his work. I roll my shoulders and stretch my neck, and to my astonishment the pain has gone.
I pull myself together, put my helmet back on and steel myself for the final 20KM. It will be a push, but I'm determined to make it.
Coming down a hill I see our busses and loads of balloons in the distance and realise I must be at the last water stop where everyone is planned to meet for the final four kilometres.
We are each handed a pair of balloons, of which I am too weak to blow up and some string to tie them on to our helmets.
The last leg of the trip is through the busy, bustling town of Kisumu. As 90 cyclists, nine organisers and four support vehicles set off through the town with balloons tied to our helmets we cause absolute mayhem. Traffic comes to a standstill, people cheer and shout and locals on bikes join us, shouting 'pot hole' and 'speed bump' thinking it's an English chant.
Emotion high and rushing with adrenaline, slowly we make our journey to the finishing line. Cheers trickle back through the team from the front as the end comes into sight. Individuals are swept away with thoughts of loved ones lost, personal battles with cancer and sheer unabashed joy at the end in sight.
Crossing the finishing line, I struggle to put the feeling of elation into words. I look around me; we're all in tears, tears of happiness. Ann Frampton, organiser of Women V Cancer and our rock for the last five days is stood with a megaphone. She announces that along with the four other Cycle Kenya groups this year, we have collectively raised a whopping £1.3million for the three women's cancer charities; Breast Cancer Care, Jo's Cervical Cancer Trust and Ovarian Cancer Action.
To help raise that total even higher you can still sponsor me by clicking here >>
What an achievement women can make when we all work together.
Me with Classic Tours' gentle giant Henk and his huge hands.
The Women V Cancer Cycle Kenya challenge is organised by Action for Charity and Classic Tours. If you're inspired by my challenge and are considering something similar, you'll be pleased to know that Women V Cancer Cycle Cuba is open for registering now. Click here to find out more. Go on, do it!
