Seems like something did not go right with my f(*&ing garmin - actual distance 1200km in 89:10. Have been trying to resolve it with the available tools on the internet but alas none of them can get my first 800km to display. Am now trying to program it myself after which I'll give up. When I signed up for PBP - I knew I was starting from a base fitness of zero. I thought I could ride my way to fitness through an SR series. The first Audax qualifier I did I walked up hills and came in just a tad over the cut off time (and was generously awarded the finish anyway - it was 3,500m of climbing so it would have been petty to split hairs on 10 mins. The next, another 200, which I remembered as being flat, was definitely not flat and I did far better on this time wise but still was slow as an old lady up the hills. (To be fair to some old ladies can certainly crush me up many hills which I've experienced time and again, so pretend I said something less offensive) I squeaked through my 300 commitment, a reasonably hilly one, which I rode as a helper so it was more DIY than Audax. Still not fast up hills and very close to the cut off. My 600, the fenlands friends was good. Rode with some good groups and had a kip in a hotel. Serious audax technique shown, and within a couple of hours of cut off but still more full-value than impressive. (Everyone beat me up the few hills there were) I failed the Bare Bones LWL, initially I knacked my achillies on the 17% gradients I had to walk the bike up and then a combination of uncharged battery , no charger and a failing tubeless set up meant the game was over from 12hours into the ride. The 400 that I hopped on to get my final qualifier was pretty flat but even with that I still eeked out a full-value experience (which means I took all the available time that was allowed). Really, I thought, to be in with a good chance at PBP, you should be doing your 200's in 8 hours, 300's in a little over 12 and 600's significantly less than 40 with some sleep. That way you'll be able to rest and have margin to drop your performance on the way home. Race to Brest, tour to Paris. The difference is going to be that on all these qualifier distances you can do them on little or no sleep and be ok. On a 1200 that becomes a less healthy and therefore mental proposition. As in, it would be mental to even attempt such a thing, if you're a full-value sort of deal. So I was quite nervous coming into this and had a strategy to get me through it. I decided, from the various videos that: 1. Time lost at control was the root of all evil when it came to finishing in time or not. 2: Sleepin's cheating, especially if your legs aren't going to carry you through the stages at speed. So I was going to try naps, preferably with the sun on my face - taking advantage of the cooler nights predicted. Post holiday (where I briefly rode up a mountain and a lap of lake Garda) I nursed a neck/shoulder injury and my bike needed upgrades and some new disc pads, so there were zero miles riden in the UK. Not great. I'd have loved to go on a club ride and rip some muscles apart in preparation. So, I had a cunning plan. I'd join the ACME ride from Dieppe to Rambouillet, hopefully keep up with some faster riders and then separate and take a train through to Versaille or Paris....I'd have a day to recover, it would be some last minute training, some extra miles in the legs for the numerous miles I needed to complete. Unfortunately, there were no trains so I had to ride through and with my 25kg set up a single 12% rise brough back my achilles problem. Balls, fuck, shit. Not what I needed. Fuck. The day of the start Rambouillet is hot and I am thankful for my 8:15 start. I meet a nice pharamacist at the start. We share stories of a Tourettes Audaxer who is in the same group. He's not that nice as he refuses to come clean about the obvious stash of pharmaceutitcal grade products he surely must be carrying. A Serbian guy keeps telling us this is all a very bad idea and that we should all back out now. Mr Pharma convinces me that my "go so slow that a slow group passes me that I can comfortably ride with forever" strategy is not the way and the "hang on to the fast train all the way to KM200" is a much better idea. We start. I lose my group come the very first hill and now am stuck in no man's land. The faster guys from my wave pootling off into the distance. The riders of similar abilty to me now so far behind that I cannot fathom waiting. Night descends pretty quickly and before long I play the game of picking off red lights in the distance, unfortunately its a game of Goldilocks, no wheel is *just* right and I spend a lot of time on my own. I eventually find a group going roughly the right pace. It's being led by an American who is blest with the power of very very tedious speech and an "listenee" who does pedal, pedal, freewheel, pedal, pedal, freewheel. It's both annoying to listen to and nervous to sit behind. When they continue to "chat" on a descent, that does it, I'm fucking off. Everyone seems to freewheel down the descents. I don't know why, perhaps its good. My momentum gets me 1/3rd of the way up the next hill but I quickly come to a standstill. These are only 3-4% but still my weak little duckling legs are no match for the inclines and all the freewheelers quickly catch me back up and overtake me. I must look like a cock, unable to keep the show going up the hill, being put to shame by Randoneurs from all over the world on bikes that probably weigh 15kgs with no kit on. This is going to be tough. Eventually I find a nice wheel to follow. After some time I offer to take the wind, we start chatting. Brice, with a wierd accent, though mostly English and its not long before I realise I've eaten a sandwich on a station forecout on the 600 qualifier. Its a nice coincidence and we stay together till the first control. Villaines la Juhel - KM203 - 6:05 - 9h50 - TBC(time before cutoff): 3h40 Not a great time for 200 to give me headroom for later, but not bad either. The control is nice, a corridoor of bike parking, a great atmosphere. I eat one of my backpacked prepared bagettes, we leave with a large group. Pretty soon we hit some extended hill. 6%. I'm doing 6kph and I'm overcome with sleepiness. I need to pull over, just shut my eyes. A lady in a Caravan is set up by the side of the road offering tea or coffee for anyone. Doesn't seem to want money but all I want is to sit in one of her plastic chairs and close my eyes. She's confused when I don't want tea but to sit down, when I make it clear I just need to sleep, she opens the caravan door, removes some jackets from the bench seat and motions me to lie down. I'm grateful as fuck, set a timer for 20mins and sleep, sleep, sleep. I do wonder if there is more to this, but, my twisted mind is just that. No farmer's wife is knocking - instead she makes me a cup of coffee when I wake and its too hot. I'm anxious to be on my way but don't want to seem ungrateful. I'm really grateful, so grateful. I can't believe the kindness. Sleep in my body and I'm able to climb. The descent is awesome. We come to a crossroads and there is a party stop. Bar, BBQ, sleep cabins. Can't stop. Must rush. It would be so awesome to have time in hand, be strong enough to relax when and where it looked appealing. I meet up with the Serbian, he seems more relaxed about the event, no longer advocating to packing up. Ironically, as we descend, I'm talking about the American who kept chatting on the descent. A bend approaches and I'm on the inside. As I take the corner I see two cars on the other side, there is no way I make this turn without veering into their line. I switch my trajectory to pass them on their inside. It must be quite scary for them and I think the Serbian was relieved. I'm quite proud of my non-descision and cool as a cucumber, though laughing with relief and an adrenalin rush on top of the sleep deprivation and exhaustion. I lose my Serbian friend when I try to get antacid for the bagette induced heartburn. I fail. I fail to use a toilet which has no toilet paper and eat a bagette by the side of the road, watching a robot mow the lawn and riders go by. On the run into Fougeres I pick up the wheel of a very nice girl from GCN digital team. She tells me to watch out for the GCN van who will be shooting at the event. We work well together, I don't seem to bore her she knows some KWAC members and says I should say to Laid back rich that he's been the inspiration for her being there. That I should thank him on her behalf. Before the event is over I'm guaranteeing she will be cursing him. Fougeres - KM293 - 11.49 - 15h30 - TBC 4h Small line for food, decide to get something, they sell beer. How civilised. Get one. Sit down, am instantly jealous as the GCN girl's friend has Leffe. Remeber to check out the bottled option. GCN girl has friend of friend who live in city who comes to see her. Am amazed by how girls can be like this, it's nice to be so giving. Leave on my own. Dick around getting toothbrush and paste in supermarket. Ukrainian lady is tentatively looking after my bike. Chase wheels, they disappear off up hills. Get tired, feel more and more sleepy. Find a patch of grass by an abandoned interior decoration and furniture store. Set alarm for 20mins, probably sleep. Am now just running on fumes. Tinteniac - KM354 - 16:37 - 19h30 - TBC 3h10 Arrive with good time. Get stamped, there is a covered area with many people strecthed out and sleeping. Look for space. Find one and bed down, set the timer for 20 mins, fall asleep to the chirping of annoying Garmin crickets. Plenty of time in hand, I go to canteen to be surprised at the lack of queue. Am I before the bulge? Surely not, eat. No talk. On leaving spot Adam Watkins and tell him how much I enjoy the videos. Its Belgian Adam, clearly identified by Belgian colours on shirt. Belgian AW does not have a YouTube channel, though is amused he may have a doppleganger. Should have done selfie as I'm convined now that he looked nothing like AW. Set off to Loudeac. Eventually riding with Dan of Rhode Island and Brazilian Dan. This course is nice and flat for a while. At some point it veers up at 10%. A guy next to me just keels over going up the hill. We gather him and his stuff off the floor. Alan an Irish chap helps with me. I'm mega confused when some Irish accent calls out to Alan (how can they know me?). Its now 24 hours after starting and sleep deprivation is starting to kick in. At some point, when trying to get my bike from a rack I have a familiar head rush you would experience coming up on acid. Loudeac - KM435 - 22:57 - 26h45 - TBC 2h20 Loudeac is carnage. There are 1000's of bikes parked. My Garmin is at 5% - I plug it into the battery pack and leave in the top tube bag. I get stamped. Daniel has to get his drop bag and intends to get a bed somehow. I get food and attempt to sleep on the table. I wake but don't want to leave. I think that I'll switch to the powdered food and get that from my bags. Fill up water and notice an older gent throwing up into a bowl. Block it out of my vision. This is brutal. I catch more sleep, get a coffee and set off, just within the time of the cutoff. 1:20 Immediately coming out of Loudeac is a hill that seems to go on forever. The Garmin is still at 5%, shit. It seems it alternates between "Charging" and "External power lost" I have to concentrate of holding the power cable at a certain angle for the connection to be made. I know the better thing to do would be to stop, get it charged and then move on without the distraction and decide that if I have to I'll get the bivvy out and look forward to it. Garmin dies completely, stop, remove bag, set Garmin charging. Get into bivvy, stare into starry non light polluted sky. GArmin charges to 12%, its enough for the moment. Pack, attach bag. Start climbing. I'm virtually no my own now. No lights to follow. On the descent I hear my bag drop off. Fuck. Tailfin bags seem to be attached when they're not. Pretty impressed it held on for so long. There are loads of people by the side of the road. Audax is pretty unforgiving - you get a mechanical on something like this few people have the time to stop and help you. Everyne is up against it. At some point I do see someone struggling and I ask if they are ok. "noooooo" comes the reply and I am committed. Millana's wheel and mech have siezed. She says its happened before and just needs to push the pedals. I don't really want to get my hands covered in grease. We struggle for some time. Eventually I figure out that we can take her wheel out which then shows the upper deraileur wheel has connected with her largest sprocket. It comes out, if she'd been in the little ring it wouldn't have happened. I think she's going to have to limp back to the next control with one gear. Its going to be annoying but likely do-able. I leave without much ceremony and soon come up to the secret control. Its quiet here, some people sleeping in space blankets. I decide that charging and sleeping is the order of the day. I'm behind time, its 5am. 25 mins. I hear a conversation about how there is no control at the next stop. I take it to mean that "becuase of the secret control, there is no control at Carhaix" Come to the next control, which I assume is Carhaix. There is no control so I assume I'm right, and am pleased to not be so behind. Don't fuck around for too much and get on the road to Brest. I'm pleasantly suprised at how quickly Brest comes up, but am sort of not surprised its actually Carhaix. My ability to think it rapidly going downhill. Carhaix - KM515 - 08:45 - 36h30 - TBC -2h15 I'm late. No one keeps my Brevet card. Food is shit or very lacking in appeal. I'm not sure I stay for long. I'm far behind time and nervous they'll disqualify me. On the way to Brest, I stop in a town for some food at a Boulangerie. A bald German with a similar Rapha top is sitting at the window. We exchange our concerns that we're behind. I notice he's the adjacent number to me (R224 and I'm R225). He was convinced it was all over for him. I offered a story where we were ok, but no one is sure. He takes the number thing as a good sign. I just think its par for the course, this dream state brings about funny coincidences. I'm constantly zooming out on the map of the Garmin, trying to figure out if I'm on the last descent before Brest. I mistake the province sign for Brest for the town sign for Brest and race the 30k+ into the Brest control. Its a lot of energy I didn't have to waste but it feels good to be riding fast, keeping with faster wheels from time to time. Brest - KM604 - 14:04 - 42h - TBC -1h30 They don't take my Brevet card even though I'm so late. I don't ask, just in case. I hear someone else asking and the official says as long as you get to the end in time everything will be ok. This is a relief. Out of Brest is hilly AF. Everything 5%, everything long. At some point I need to just lie down, 10 mins. Much better. Tactic to bust a gel before a climb it works well. Carhaix - KM697 - 21:09 - 49h- TBC -1h Making good time, though suffering like never before. Have been thinking about how horrible this all is and its literally the worst and hardest day of my life. Find a secret quiet room covered in cardboard, get bivvy and set alarm for 2hrs. Need sleep so bad. Sleep for an hour, it's enough. Seem to have a tail wind. No company. Stop to piss and look at the immense sky. The smells alternate between litleral shit to beautiful. Pass a area with people camping and a bonfire. Not that they're inviting but it looks nice. Pick up wheels of a Malaysian couple some time after the food stop. We stop for coffee, the husband has a smoke. I think its hilarious. They lose me on the run in to Loudeac, we pass a food factory and I'm hungry for Chicken and gravy. Loudeac - KM782 - 6:21 - 58h - TBC -3h Back to 3 hours in deficit. Need food. Pay 6euros for 2 thumb sized pieces of chicken with rice. My throat constricts when I try to swallow. Fucking shit. Sleep 20 mins, try to eat more. Buy fake food I don't know and go back to mix it. Get confused and mix the shit food into my water only bottle. Fuck. I ride with a group until a Tabac bar is open. I stop and order two coffees, a coke, bounty, marathon and two mars bars. Go to the toilet. The dirt on the floor of the toilet is moving, its obvious that the hallucinactions from LSD were only inspired by the hallucinations from the underlying sleep deprivation. The pharmacy across the road has a line of cyclists in it. I get Ibuprofen. Ibuprofen and co-codamol keep the achillies problems at bay, as soon as the drugs wear off I start to feel pain. I get out of the bar and immediately seem to be riding with an English rider. He seems to want to talk. I just want a wheel to share the wind. No one else has been talking, everyone is last chance saloon. All desperately trying to make the cutoff. I'm willing to trade some conversation for some wheel. I'm keen to share my LSD story but am immediately hit with "tried mushrooms and hated it" - I try to share my story about mushrooms but its not long before I'm cut off. We get passed by a lorry and the draft almost knocks the other guy off. I have zero sympathy, if you can't hold your handlebars in anticipation you're clearly not concentrating. I'm sort of annoyed by the level of his game and his obvious need to complain. I pass a Asian girl who's head is dropped. I offer some words of encouragement. I try out "Hej-do" to the Swedish group. Norse men with beards and blond with beauty. I have it correct, it still means hello. They point out the Asian girl who is now being helped up hills by her partner. They are convinced she is struggling to stay awake and is dangerous to be around. At the top of a hill the Asian couple have stopped and I offer them pro-plus. It turns out she cannot hold her head up and I tell them to look up Sherman's neck. I know its serious and they are M group, unlikely to make it. Tell them an inner tube around the head will help. I set off again and the English guy has been waiting for me. I'm quite annoyed by this and immediately try to get him to work with me to get a move on. His pedalling technique is awful, pedal twice, pause, pedal twice and pause. I tell him I cannot be in his wheels like this and take the front. He isn't able to keep pace and I lose him. I stop at a shop in the next town, looking to buy bananas but realise my English friend may catch up and be pissed that I left him. I start to get paranoid that he'll take offence at not being waited for and put the bananas back and then start to make my escape. This is good motivation it turns out. I pedal briefly with Clio from ACB who is on the same mission of being ultra concentrated on making the cutoff. I stop to get undressed. I'll never see Clio again. One of the Norse men passes and I catch his wheel. He is strong and loses me on the first hill. I wonder whether Clio is motivated not to have to listen to my drivel and pushes on with that in mind. The paranoia from sleep deprivation is also reminiscent of the wierd vibes you'd pick up when partying hard for a few days. Tinteniac - KM867 - 12:07 - 52h - TBC -2h10 Tinteniac has the best food, I can't remember how long I stay or whether I eat. I'm sure I do. I'm still crazy paranoid about the cut off, I need to keep going. The route to Fougeres is a blur. I don't remember a thing. Fougeres - KM928 - 15:58 - 55h45 - TBC -1:10 Making up the deficit, but desperately need sleep. Get my shit together and sleep in the grass, not for long. There are few people relaxing now but its now the final 300 stretch to the end. Try to buy gels, but under estimate how many I need with my addlled brain. I remember there is a McDonalds on the way out of town. My legs feel good on the climb out of the city but I turn back to McDs. This wastes 30 mins. 2 coffee's, a cheeseburger later I'm back on the road. I keep pace with some experienced Italian or Spanish riders. No one is talking. Up ahead I see a guy climb off his bike and wait by the side of the road. I make to say "hi" and too late I realise its the talker from earlier. I wonder if he spotted me? For the next few miles I have the motivation to keep going. Any shadow thrown past my wheel makes me speed up, every hill cannot be pootled up in first gear. Something magic happens. All the milage of the previous days and the ride from Dieppe to Ramboiullet show up in my legs. I'm on fire. I find a Swiss couple to ride with, they are cooridated with the wife letting him know if she's let go of the wheel. I keep with their pace and they don't seem to need me to take the wind. We come to some rollers and I explain I'm not being rude when I shoot off. I just need the momentum to get up the other side. I hit 60kph on the descents and stay seated sprinting in the aerobars, flying by riders who chose to climb the hill. A strong Austrian rider joins my draft and keeps pace. He say something with "flug" in it which I take to mean flying. My legs feel fucking awesome, a power I've not felt in them for over 5 years. Not since the radiation therapy and then followed by covid. Its been annoying to have lost what I had, more annoying that the training I put in to get it is not really an option anymore. Perhaps my thought that I'd ride my way into fitness was just missing that final piece of the puzzle. Also riding a 1200. I pass the Ukrainian and her riding partner, shout "Victory to Ukraine" in as close as what I've heard on the telly as I can and pass them at speed. I then hear a cry and a crash behind. We stop and I'm nervous its my fault, riding like a lunatic. Was just sweaty hand not being able to grip. I have plasters to share he seems grateful and off on our way. The Swiss couple and I seem to be in the same ballpark, conversation is good (or at least I don't detect I am annoying them). I possibly talk a lot and feel a intense euphoric state. Not only am I enjoying the hallucinations from sleep deprivation I am now rewarded by my body's own drug supply. Its a heady mix and the throw back to days of raving. All of it feels familiar and I'm happy with it. I ask about the commands that the wife is saying to her husband. She says that they have a schedule to keep so she is saying faster or slower. I have a Swiss train which is on schedule. I feel confident I can make this. At Le Ribay, a crossroads just before a massive climb and the next control, they have a party. The locals are enjoying it. There is no alcohol free larger left so we drink cokes and eat fries. The locals are very jovial, some drunk, if I had time in hand this would be an excellent place to spend some time. Alas, its not allowed, we need to make progress. There is a plan to sleep at the next control. We agree to stick together. Villaines la Juhel - KM1018 - 23:27 - 75h15 - TBC -2h Start to see people from the road. Amy, who I've not seen since the start is in a bad way and saying she will give up. I think we're closer than we are and encourage her on. Clio fro ACB says hello. She's strong and full of confidence. The Swiss have a plan to sleep. If I can keep in their wheels I'll make it surely. The temperature is ideal to sleep outside, we plan to sleep for 2 hours but manage 1h40. Get up, get going. I have no food and my brain is still struggling to plan ahead. We ride into the dead of night and I run out of fuel to keep up with the stronger riders on the risers. The road is dark and I need a light in front as I'm tripping balls. I try to chase back on but its a game of increasingly diminishing returns. I need to ride a pace to get through. I need not to close my eyes. I need food. Eventually some sort of road side stop appears out of no where. I need to get electrolytes into me. My fingers are wrinkled and they don't have enough moisture to operate the iPhone or my watch. There is food available but its not obviously placed out for us. I don't have mental fortitude to ask or just take. And I don't feel like eating. Even though its exactly what I need. Amy is there and I recognise Craig from Scotland who I've not seen since Fenland's Friends. He's in an earlier wave and needs to get a move on, but perfectly do-able should he concentrate. It reminds me of a chill out zone at a rave, you bump into people who you've been E-ing your head off with in the rave. The mood is subdued but we all know we need to get back out on the dancefloor and get through to the end-of-night ride home. I leave following lights at distance. Eventually I ride with a group of crazy Japanese, spuring each other on to fly down the descents and power along the flat. Cutting roundabouts shouting "Tour de France". There's a little bit of madness in the air. Montagne-au-Perche - KM1099 - 06:53 - 82h45 - TBC -2:30 Need food, preferably baby food. Stall sells Science in Sport gels and powders. I buy some but severely underestimate the amount I should take. I buy some food and keep an eye out for the Swiss couple. Back out to the bike and they are on their way and not hanging around, I cannot blame them. I only now realise its 120k to the finish, having previously deceived myself it was a mere 100. The difference is huge and I remind myself its very easy to be caught out with faffing or mechanicals. Some air in the back tyre and back on the road. The Swiss have stopped to faff by the side of the road and I keep going. Its the ramps where they'll drop me so if I can get those out of the way before the upcoming flat section I'll be able to make the most of their wheels on this final leg. I pick an Italian to compete with up the hills. I imagine all these Italians are ex-pros keeping up the sport into their 60's and 70's and I'm pleased to be able to keep up with him on the long inclines. Eventually the Swiss couple make a re-appearance and we cover some good ground. Other riders join our group, but they don't know the dynamic I've come to respect. Another rider joins the wheel of the husband and separates them. Without being able to shout to slow she gets dropped with another group of riders. Its difficult riding with others and the cyclical nature of energy and mood. When on your own you have no one to blame but yourself and you can easily alter your pace to recover. It gets a little tense and I consider crossing the line. I entered into this by myself and need the freedom to have the emotional reaction to it I need to have. I put myself in their position and I'm sure its a similar situation as it should be. I make the conscious decision to drop back and finish it by myself - I feel comfortable with time and am sure I'll make it ok. We come into some town and I join a big group. Out of no where we are being ushered into a control. For a split second I convince myself that this is the end control. That the ride into Ramboullet will be a ceremonial one, having eaten and regained our composure. I more or less burst into tears at what kind thought this is. UI have to really contain myself from the anger when I come to understand this is a control 42k from the end. Dreux - KM1177 - 10:49 - 86h30 - TBC -0h02 Only 2 mins over the cutoff. Being denied the finish I thought I deserved I am a little rude when they only take cash. I think I've spent all my cash and can't afford food. Its a compounding bad thought process. I stop at a Boulangerie and get a pizza and some coffee. Leave town and head off into the headwinds and rain that ushers us to the end. While the pizza and coffee is giving me power I sit in the aero bars and note that I have someone in my wheel. I motion them to take the wind and Giuseppe says "no no no" he explains he cannot see having lost his contact lens. I notice my head is suddenly feeling very very heavy. My neck muscles are sore and I'm really very conscious that coming out of this with Sherman's neck is not going to be the good look I was after on finishing. So, there we are, the lame leading the blind, literally. With every group that passes us Giuseppe says bye and tries to sprint onto their wheel but I usually pick him up within a minute or two. Scottish Craig passes me sitting on the wheel of someone towing him to the finish line. He will just make it, a supreme effort given I saw him 150k ago and he needed to be well in front of me. It starts to rain and I put on my rain jacket. Every drop sounds like a clap from one of the thousands of residents along the way who cheered and clapped us on. Spookily I look up to see who's clapping out here in the middle of nowhere. Its been amazing, the support, the deeper into the ride the more and more I get the amount of respect they have for the participants. This really is very very tough. Most especially for the riders who are on the cusp of being able. I think I will never be prouder of myself than I will when I finish this. I meet a rider on his specialized who recounts that he fell asleep and woke to a van blasting their horn coming the other direction. A fire engine overtakes and later we're at the scene where a rider has come off the road. Hopefully nothing too bad. For some reason, as tired as I am, I don't succumb to the lure of my eyes closing. I can feel them rotating up into my skull like I was having the beginnings of a rush but I'm always able to catch it and not go further. Don't know why I'm so confident, perhaps all these others felt like that before they didn't. Ramboiullet - KM1219 - 13:31 - 89h10 - TBC 0h50 We get into Rambouillet and coincidentally my sister is walking through the gate to come and cheer me at the finish line. I finish with a time of 89h10. I'm an emotional wreck and not fit for human consumption until I've eaten. Its been immense. An unimaginable achievement and an unforgettable experience.