Once more into the fray
I once read about a man who cycled the world and he described the many ways it shaped him. After he returned, he said he started referring to events in his life as either being “pre” or “post” world cycle. Like it was some sort of great divide between the former self and the person you become.
It made me realise that there’s no going back from here. Life is inevitably about to change.
The last few months have been so jam-packed with planning, travelling, family and trying to enjoy our last few shreds of civilisation, that it was difficult to process what we were undertaking until about 24 hours before we left. We promised ourselves no matter what, we would not do what we always do and leave packing to the last minute…
So after I stuffed my 2 pairs of boxers and 3 pairs of socks down my panniers at 10pm on Friday night… I finally took a minute to reflect on where I’d been and what was ahead.
For one last time, I looked out the window of my childhood bedroom and watched the streetlights casting a familiar shadow on my wall where my rugby posters used to be.
I thought about the first time I ever got drunk on my 16th birthday with Lucy and two of our best friends in this house. Lucy and I sat leaning against my washing machine until the early hours talking the world to rights listening to Catfish and the Bottlemen. It’s worth noting I was DEEP in the friendzone at this point, but the point is, if you’d have told 16 year old me that I was about to cycle to Australia and back with Lucy then I think I would have jumped inside the washing machine and turned it on out of disbelief.
We are doing it. We are actually doing it!
We spread the word that we were going to have a small send off at Manchester rugby club and were completely blown away when over 150 people turned up to show their love and support.
Cycling down the driveway lined with the people we both care about the most waving and cheering us on is a moment I will never forget.
To those who came, or sent us messages of good luck, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Truly.
However, between talking to the BBC and trying to show everyone how grateful we were that they had made the effort to come down, I may have forgotten to prepare a speech…
So, as I stood above the crowd on a bench, trying to be profound and explain that they would be the people motivating us when things got tough, I believe the phrase that eventually fell out of my mouth was:
“We’ll think of you when we’re sh*tting ourselves in a tent in Nepal.”
Life definitely won’t be the same after that. A “pre” and “post” moment.
Perhaps it was the perfect speech.
