A big thank you to everyone who sponsored me in my attempt to ride the 1230km Paris-Brest-Paris event in 90 hours in August.
So far, your kindness has raised more than £5,500 to buy surgical equipment to help save the lives of babies born in need of immediate invasive surgery and the Baby Isaac Fund is well on the way to buying its first piece of equipment. I know that Isaac's parent, Ian and Crista, have been stunned by your generosity and from the messages of support posted on this web site.
The good news is that I made it. I crossed the line at 89.37, which is either perfect self-pacing or cutting it a bit fine, depending on your point of view. Apologies to all those who were tracking my progress on the web site and wondered where I had got to on the last day!
It was a tough ride, not helped by a stomach bug that made it rather difficult for me to maintain my usual practice of devouring protein and carbohydrates in equine proportions at every opportunity and by appalling weather on the second day which turned the roads of Brittany into treacherous streams (tragically, we lost one rider in the bad weather when he was hit by an overtaking lorry, and I heard that many others abandoned after crashes).
I came close to abandoning at one stage - at the 525km point I felt so ill that I really didn't want to get back on the bike, but the thought of all the encouragement and support back home, and the knowledge that some of you were tracking my progress, kept me going. So a big thank you to you all.
I stuck to my plan of not sleeping until the 525km checkpoint, but reached there some six hours later than planned due to the stomach problems on the first night and weather on the second. However, I still made it to Brest in just under 42 hours and was able to ride steadily back to Paris in the remaining 48, even indulging in some more sleep along the way (as well as a very nice four course lunch, with wine, for 11 Euros at a little cafe near Fougeres at about 950km). The photo on the left was taken on the first night, about 30 miles from the start.
A few ups and downs along the way. The support on the road was amazing - even after three nights we would still ride into a village in the early hours of the morning to be greeted with cheers and shouts of encouragement from people sitting outside their houses on garden chairs. During the day, children laid out tables of drinks and snacks for us, often just for the fun of doing a high-five with a foreigner. One bunch were "collecting countries" and had a blackboard listing how many riders from each country had stopped at their stall. On the last morning, I rode past an infants school where all the children were lined up at the roadside waving flags and shouting "Allez Allez" at every cyclist that passed.
It's amazing the buzz that this support gives you, especially towards the end when your legs are screaming at every hill and (in my case) your hands are so tender that they can barely squeeze the gear levers.
Most of me felt pretty good at the finish. I had sore feet, from bouncing around in my shoes on the rough roads in Brittany in particular, but the main damage has been to the aforementioned hands. The swelling around my wrists has now subsided but the ends of my fingers and thumbs are still numb and I've still got some pain around the left wrist, which I broke at Christmas.
From past experience, it will take a couple of months for the sensation to return to my fingers and even then I know that there are a couple on my left hand that are gone for good from the London-Edinburgh-London a couple of years ago. My intention now is to stick to shorter rides for the next year or so and let everything recover!
So, again, many thanks for your support. And, of course, if you haven't donated and would like to, the JustGiving site is still open for your contributions!
Rob
LETTER FROM PARIS 21-8-2011
Firstly, thank you so very much to everyone who has supported me and donated to the Baby Isaac Fund. It means a lot to me and I know that Isaac's parents, Ian and Crista, have been overwhelmed by the generosity shown. As I write, the total donated is standing at just over £4,000 - or £5 a mile to relate it to the challenge itself. If you want to donate but haven't, it's not too late.
And so the hour approaches. Having arrived here on Thursday night, with the only two fixed points in the schedule being the formal registration at 5.30 yesterday and the start itself at some time after 6pm tonight, I am beginning to understand how professional sportsmen must feel when they have to hang around for an evening cup final or something similar. Now I'm here I just want to get going!
Friday was a gentle day, assembling the bike and heading out for a leisurely 30 mile ride with a long lunch along the way. Yesterday was not such a great success; I had slept very badly and really didn't feel like doing very much. I lounged around the hotel (about 8 miles from the start) during the morning and eventually got on the bike at about 1pm for a short ride and then over to the stadium for the registration, where you have your bike checked and pick up your timing chip, frame number, etc. There were a couple of glitches - the moment when an official told me that my paperwork was incomplete and I wasn't allowed to have my bike checked was a bit tense, but I got it sorted. Unfortunately I took a wrong turn on my way back to the hotel and got completely lost, which doesn't bode well for riding back in a sleep-deprived state on Thursday.
Up in the town itself it's like the United Nations in Lycra. I found myself chatting with riders from places as diverse as Costa Rica, Japan and India. The place is swarming with cyclists, all eyeing up each other's equipment (if you'll forgive the obvious double entendre). The range of bikes is astonishing; lots of US riders are on super lightweight racing bikes with just tiny tool pouches tucked under the saddle - a giveaway sign of the cyclist with a support crew stationed along the route; the Brits are mainly on solid steel framed bikes with capacious saddle bags, some of which have clearly seen better days; and there is a group of scary-looking Russian women who arrived in town yesterday on touring bikes laden down with front and rear panniers and full camping kit. They have apparently cycled here from St Petersburg. I presume they are going to leave most of that stuff here while they do the ride though.
Add in a fair smattering of recumbents (bikes that look like deckchairs on wheels), a French woman on what is best described as a butcher's bike (she will still be one of the first back - she holds the record for the Rocky Mountains 1200km in Canada at 64 hours) and the amazing Brit, Drew Buck, who always turns up on some bizarre machine. In 2003 he rode with two others on a Goodies-style triplet. In 2007 he did the whole ride on a 1930s French bike, dressed in a beret, Breton jersey and dungarees, with two strings of onions dangling from his handlebars. This year it's an early 20th century single speed with wooden wheels - although that's supposed to be secret until tonight!
How am I feeling? In short, pretty good but with appropriate apprehension. I've revised my tentative plan a little and am now hoping to cover the first 525km in one stretch, getting to Carhaix in Brittany at around midnight on Monday. A bit of sleep there and then out shortly after dawn for the rather lumpy 185km loop to Brest and back. After that the plan is quite loose and will depend on the weather. It looks as though there is a band of rain coming in on Tuesday which could make the gravelly roads on the stretch between Carhaix and the next checkpoint, Loudeac, a bit tricky in darkness, but if all goes well I will be through there before nightfall. From there until the final checkpoint, at Dreux, I plan only to catnap at a couple of stops and then sleep at Dreux before a gentle last 60km back to the finish. But we'll see. It's a good idea to have a plan but it's only a point of reference. Once on the road, decisions are made mile by mile :-)
This afternoon I'll be heading back up to the start at about 3pm to meet up with other riders for a good meal before the ride. One of the other ways I've raised money for the fund is by designing and selling an "Audax England" cycling jersey so a number of purchasers are getting together for a group photo before the start. Then it's over to the stadium for the (seemingly) interminable wait to start. This is a bit like the London Marathon, with everybody lined up and being "released" in groups of about 500. They start sending us off at 6 but I won't try to get in the first groups and will hope to be away by about 8pm. That will mean I'll still have daylight for the first 50km or so, which are the most hazardous, with the combination of traffic calming and over-excited riders in a large bunch. The most dangerous place to be is near the edge of the road so once the police escort drops us I'll be riding on the other side whenever I can! After about 100km the bunch will have fragmented and groups of similarly-paced riders will start to form. I'm a pretty good pacer so I expect I shall find myself sitting on the front of one such group for a large part of the first couple of hundred kilometres. Hopefully, some of the other will return the favour and tow me along for a while too.
I'll do bit of tweeting along the way, although probably not before Brest, but if you'd like to see how I'm getting on, you can see where and when I was last tracked by going to:
If you type in 5665 as the rider number, you'll be able to see the last control I went through and when. Bear in mind though that I don't expect to get to the first checkpoint before about 8 am on Monday!
Thanks again for your support
Welcome to my fundraising home page. You may donate on any of the linked pages listed below - they all feed in to the total shown here.
I'm raising funds for the Baby Isaac Fund, which aims to buy surgical equipment for neo-natal care.
My challenge is to complete the 1230km Paris-Brest-Paris cycle ride ("PBP") in no more than 90 hours - including any time off the bike for eating and sleeping. The ride starts at 6pm on 21 August and I have to get to Brest and back by noon on 25 August, meaning I have to cover more than 200 miles a day. The total is about the equivalent of London to Land's End and back - and just as hilly, both ways!
On separate pages (listed below) you can read about Isaac, whose life inspired the fund, about the equipment the fund hopes to buy to help other babies who need the kind of care that Isaac did, about the PBP and how I've earned my place in it and answers to some of the questions I'm often asked about the event and about long-distance cycling in general.
I'll tag them all as links once I've cracked a little technical problem. In the meantime, you can also start here to read them:
http://www.justgiving.com/Rob-McIvor
Remember: Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Once you donate, they'll send your money directly to the Baby Isaac Fund. They'll make sure Gift Aid (an additional 28%) is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer, too. That means more money goes to the charity, faster, with JustGiving.
With your support - and my legs - we can meet the target. Please give whatever you can... and wish me luck!
