How did I do THAT?

I've been a long way.  And come back again.

It's safe to say that I haven't hidden just how nervous I have been about the cycle challenge my Dad and I took on this year.  It's been quite the palaver and I've been on the verge of backing out on more occasions than I care to admit.

Here's us at the start line:

Here's us at the finish line:


















Four days, three countries, three hundred miles.  And I rode every single one of them.  WHAT?!?!?

So being that I made quite the meal of it all, I wouldn't blame anyone for asking 'how exactly did I manage it?!'

Honestly?  I don't know.

But I have a few ideas;

- I didn't want to let my dad down.  That was worse than the thought of hating it.

- I didn't want to have to tell everyone I backed out or gave up.

- The more I did, the more I surprised myself.  The more I achieved, the more I wanted to know how much further I could go.  The further I got, the more I could do...

- It was rarefied air; all I had to do each day was get on a bike.  That's it.  Just keep said bike moving forward.  And that seemed a lot more manageable than normal life.

They say that people get to the end of these challenges and feel sad that it's over and I confess that sounded like utter tosh a week ago.  But come Saturday and the final 10 miles and I got it.  Partly because of the high of making it, the beauty of the scenery and the uplifting support from home.  But for me, I wanted to stay in the bubble, where all I needed to do was get on a bike.

My trusty steed.

In my last post I mentioned that carrying baggage is part of life.  I took mine all the way to Brussels.  And I wasn't the only one.  It was clear that we'd all been carrying some hefty weight with us for the trip.  Yet no one was shouting about theirs or opening it up for show and tell.  Trips like these are utter escapism and in the bubble you get to focus on something far easier than what you're carrying.

It was a privilege to travel with the weary and the burdened, quietly and positively.  The father raising money for the Teenage Cancer Trust because his son has cancer.  The gentle man going through a divorce.  The funny northerner who had a suspected heart attack a few weeks ago.  I only caught glimpses of the baggage we each held to our chests but it was a breath of fresh air to both silently acknowledge and overcome it all if only for a few days.

I want to keep cycling if only to keep up some fitness and balance out my biscuit habit.  And I also want to seek out some rarefied air occasionally.  I think it might help to readjust the load and look at the scenery for a few moments.  I need days where all I need to do is get on a bike, so that when I step back out of the bubble I can be that little bit fitter.

p.s. you can still sponsor us

Fear and padded shorts.

On Sunday I preached on Matthew 16:21-28.  If you've not picked it up from my previous blogs, it's worth knowing that I'm not feeling much at the moment, it's a numb trudging through treacle type time.

When I first approached this text my heart sunk - here we go again, another passage that is interpreted in a number of ways; not all of which are particularly helpful.  There it was ready to thwack me about the head; pick up your cross and carry your burdens.  Some people add 'these things are sent to try us' or 'give everything up because then you'll be rich in heaven'.

Here's what I saw.

Jesus lived a life, and it can't have passed him by that most humans picked up a fair bit of baggage on the way.  Surely Jesus was inviting us burdened folk to pick it all up and come on the journey with him.  Maybe Jesus was essentially saying 'your baggage doesn't exclude you, bring it with you, you can use it, we can find hope within it.'

Blessed are the cracked; for they will let in the light.

I feel like I'm carrying a heavy load at the moment and it makes me want to give up, a lot.  I'm often like a child silently whimpering 'please don't make me go.'  But that load doesn't exclude me from moving forward and interacting with the world around me - not despite the brokenness but through it.

Tomorrow I travel to my childhood home for the last time before my parents leave that side of the country, and embark on simply the hardest thing I've ever attempted.  It sounds so silly in a world of serious stories and conflict, but my 300 mile charity cycle ride is a big deal at this moment in my life.

If I make it to the start line, I will have overcome the anxiety that makes it hard to leave my flat.  If I manage to ride most of the route each day I will have overcome my lack of fitness.  If I do the whole challenge I will be exceeding my own expectations.  But pulling out or giving up is not an option - I won't deal well with letting anyone down or having another failure on my books.

Whatever happens I will be carrying my burdens and my brokenness with me, all the way to Brussels, because they are part of my journey and there is hope within them.

Traffic

Ho Chi Minh

If you want an amusing reaction, tell people you're going on holiday to Vietnam.  Never fails.

It's not that unusual; the road between Ho Chi Minh and Hanoi is well travelled by backpackers, adventure seekers and Russian gazillionaires alike.

The country has only been open to tourism for 20 years and has a poorly documented history over this side of the world.  I'll post more photos and thoughts as I go.  In the meantime there is only one thing to start with.

The traffic.  It's legendary.  And here's what it looks like.



By the end of my trip I was an expert at avoiding the buses before I stepped out and simply looking forward.  The best thing is to let the bikes (40 million of them in a country of 90 million people) work round you, walking slowly and consistently so that they can predict your movements.  By looking at the oncoming swarm of traffic your instincts not to die will kick in, and that's how accidents happen.

If anyone smells a metaphor coming... they'd be right.  It's a little one though, stop rolling your eyes.

Light traffic somewhere in Hue, Vietnam

The year has passed its half way point, my lists are ticking along nicely and for the most part things are moving upwards with my internal search for peace.  I'm more aware than ever of the things most likely to trip me up and I do all I can to clear the path.  It can be consuming, constantly checking for holes I might fall into.  I spend a lot of time looking down and missing the scenery.

And sometimes, if I keep looking over my shoulder at the potential scariness coming my way, fixating on the negative and living in fear of bad days ... well I believe it's known as a self fulfilling prophecy.

Eyes forward, go slowly and get to the other side.  Right now that's the best idea.  If it worked in Vietnam...?

Faking it

I'm a big advocate for honesty, of course I am.   However, I wonder if there are times to hold back and occasions that necessitate a front of sorts. Don't get me wrong, having a mask that was used too often was part of my emotional downfall, I'm not advocating lying to the world about who you actually are.  But there are times when certain parts of your personality should be pushed to the front and others given a rest.

A few months ago my Lovely Friend and I booked a few days away in Dublin.  In the weeks leading up to the trip we wondered whether my clouds would get in the way, or if I'd even make it at all.  That said, I was assured that I would be taken Dublin by any means necessary.

I have some awesome friends, most of whom are extroverts.  My Lovely Friend is the kind of extrovert that wakes up talking, and once told me that she would be totally happy if she was around people from the very beginning to the very end of the day.  We are really rather different... However she is also one of the kindest, wisest and patient people I know and not only has she seen all of my moods but she's never made me feel bad about them.

So as I drove to meet my Lovely Friend my mind was occupied; not with whether I needed to hide or whether we'd fall out if I wanted to stay in bed all day.

So many people have worked around me and tried to understand how I function.  With support I've been doing so much better these past couple of weeks and am feeling stronger and more in control.  So on the journey I decided that I would do all I can to be the friend that my Lovely Friend deserved, even if it meant pretending a little bit.

I decided I would be chatty, even if I preferred silence.  I decided I would be excited and cheerful, even when my heart went into neutral mode.  I decided I would make decisions and wouldn't be paranoid that I was getting it all wrong and that my Lovely Friend actually hated and resented me and would be having a lot more fun with anyone else...  I decided to pretend I couldn't see the clouds and that I couldn't hear the negative thoughts.

And you know what, after a surprisingly short while and a few over compensations, a nap and some silence here and there to recharge... I wasn't faking it.  Pretending to be cheery soon became having a genuinely great time.  Saying things for the sake of it soon became natural chat (it turns out I do like to point at things and read signs out loud).  And making sure it wasn't all about me meant I felt like a better person and a much better friend.  At last.

I am so SO lucky to have a Lovely Friend who I knew I couldn't fail with whatever happened, and was marvellous at making sure I looked after myself and got my introvert time too.  Not being in it alone is so much part of winning the battle.  It meant that my decision to push cheery self to the front was not borne out of pressure or fear and I'm sure that's part of why it turned so quickly into my natural state.

It was a holiday, and it was a break from the clouds and the struggle.  Just as you can't stay on holiday forever, you have to come back and face yourself mask-less before long too.  But a bit of faking it proved to me that I am still in here somewhere.  That I have enough strength these days to push my head above the clouds and get some sunshine.  That has given me hope that life can once again be enjoyed, even if I have to fake it at first.

I woz here

So it occurred to me that I haven't got any photos of myself... and could therefore be accused of posting images from the internet while actually hiding in my flat.  I'm not sure who would accuse me of that, but still.
I unfortunately am a bit bashful so only took rubbish covert selfies when no one was looking.  But here you go, proof I was indeed in Colombia.

Scary eyes at the Museum de Botero

Me with a big building.  Only just noticed the graffiti.  Sorry.

An attempt at looking happy. I won't do it again.

Sunbathing in Independence Park.  In January. Whoop.

Outside the Cathedral

In Plaza de Bolivar

Doing some walking.  I'm so cool.

Watching the police chase a man who had just stolen a bottle of water.

So there you go. I was there.  I'll practice my smiles for next time.

ps smile is Spanish is sonrisa.  Nice.

Thursday 16th January

I accidentally wandered into a cemetery to get out of the heat (moment for smug smile) and as the music floated out of the small chapel in the centre I ducked between the tightly packed concrete structure, the walls of plaques and statues.

With the sun shining the atmosphere was far from sombre but it did put my little life in some perspective.  Every little life has the potential the make waves, the opportunities to learn and love. Although sometimes we will feel like we're going to be just another name in a crowd.  But we are actually simply part of something bigger than our self. It's the difference between being individualistic or looking around us.

My favourite clothes are my summer clothes, the ones appropriate for hot weather which of course we get on a regular basis.  Thus my favourite clothes are mostly in waiting, and I just wear what's comfortable even if it makes me feel less confident.  Can't risk being chilly, or worse - standing out.

Life is precious, and I want to be someone that embraces all it has to offer - ups and downs.  I don't want to live in waiting, hiding away ready for everything to be lined up.  So I will wear my red high heels on a weekday because they look great, even though I won't fit in. I'll put my summer clothes on in the winter, with a few additions probably, because I feel good in them.

I will live this little life now, not sometime in the future.

Wednesday 15th January

Las Aguas, where the cool kids hang

Plazuela Camilo Torres in Plaza de Bolivar

Bottom of Calle 10

Plaza de Bolivar

Palacio de Justica in Plaza de Bolivar

The pigeon lady

The resident protestors in the plaza

Carrera 7

Tuesday 14th January

  

The top of Calle 10, with my front door the 

first door on the right, orange building

 This is Calle 10, it's a long road and my front door is right at the top, with the main shopping area at the bottom.  I have dedicated a whole post to Calle 10 because it has become my nemesis.   There is an 8 minute incline up to the hostel, with the incline increasing to essentially vertigal.  Honestly.

The worst bit of the hill which is a lot longer on the way up.  Fact.

See, people are disappearing down the hill. 

There are two nasty bits of the hill.

But the view is nice...

Sunday 12th January 2014

A beautiful start to the day gave way this afternoon to light showers so I ducked into the Art Museum, Bank and Botero Museums.  It was a lovely way to spend the afternoon, not least because it was free...

These photos are mostly to make my dad jealous.

Picasso

Picasso again

Degas

Matisse

Botero

Botero

Botero

Salvador Dali

Renoir

Monet

Renoir

  Sorry dad :)