Week two in the saddle, and still upright! That in itself feels like a win.
This week’s training has brought a new mix of challenges, rewards, and lessons—plus some surprisingly peaceful moments on the trails that helped me remember exactly why I’m doing this.
The highs
Let’s start with the good stuff. There’s been a noticeable difference in how my body’s responding to the effort. My legs aren’t screaming quite so loudly, my balance is improving slightly, and the hills—while still tough—don’t feel quite so impossible. There were moments this week where I genuinely felt strong. Not superhero strong, but strong enough to feel like progress is happening.
I also had a few mini-adventures on new routes that took me through proper countryside. Those are the kind of moments that feed the soul a bit too.
And I haven’t fallen off yet. Still clinging to that streak like it’s part of the training plan!
The lows
Of course, it hasn’t all been smooth pedalling.
There were a couple of rides where the energy just wasn’t there. Brain fatigue caught up with me mid-ride one day, and it took everything just to keep moving forward. It’s frustrating when your body wants to go but your mind feels foggy and slow.
The medication helps with the nausea, which I’m grateful for, but it comes with a side order of drowsiness that sometimes lingers longer than the ride itself. It’s a delicate balancing act—managing symptoms, keeping the training consistent, and not tipping over into total burnout.
I switched out Saturday’s training session for a club ride, which turned out to be harder (and definitely faster) than I’d anticipated; I’m definitely not Tour de France fit, and especially not going to break records on on a bike that weighs roughly the same as a small elephant. If I’m honest, by the time I got home, I felt more than a little demoralised.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the spontaneity I used to have—the freedom to go on a long ride, hike, or even just a late night adventure without factoring in how shattered I’d be the next day.
On Sunday, I had great intentions of getting up and out super early to beat the crowds (and forecast rain), but I woke up with that all too familiar hangover (without the party) headache, which I get after any activity that pushes the limits of hearing and balance. This one was cracking… At lunchtime, I was still on the sofa in PJs willing it to go away. My body felt fine, and physically, I wasn’t tired, but my head… not so much.
I settled for a boring 2 and a half hour session in front of the TV watching Netflix whilst the turbo whirred away.
These days, everything comes with a cost, and planning around fatigue has become part of the routine. I’m still learning how to pace myself—not just on the bike, but in life.
The weather (because it deserves a section)
Unlike the previous moans about rain, this week brought surprisingly good weather. Sunny skies and warmer temperatures made for lovely riding conditions, but the cold breeze kept things interesting. It became a bit of a jacket-on, jacket-off dance, trying to get the layers right. Too warm one minute, chilly the next. Classic British spring.
What it’s teaching me
This week has been a reminder that consistency beats perfection. Not every ride feels like a win – and that was definitely the case this week, but just showing up and pushing through the tough bits is what really counts.
It’s also reinforced how powerful a “why” can be. On the days when motivation is nowhere to be found, I think about why I’m doing this. I think about the people The Beyond Recovery Project supports, and I think about what it means to turn adversity into something bigger than yourself. I think about how I felt, sat in a consulting room, being told I’d lose my balance and hearing nerve, and thinking I’d never ride a bike again.
So the planning and training continues, along with the learning. I need to get some accommodation booked along the route, and do more research on the best kit setup – one that will hopefully not impact balancing the bike so much.
Still no crashes (touch wood- although I did fall backwards whilst trying to prop my bike against a tree, landing rather ungracefully on my derriere – thankfully no witnesses!) and still feeling grateful for every mile I get to ride—even the tough ones.
I’m trying to remember that I don’t train because I have to, I train because I can… and there was a time, that is still all too vivid, when I couldn’t. Those emotions are still in there, still raw and a very good source of fuel when I need it.
If you’re still following along, thank you. If you’ve donated, cheered, or shared the challenge, I appreciate it more than you know. And if you’re just here to see if I eventually fall off—stay tuned. You never know!
If you can donate, I’d be really grateful. Every single penny supports those living with the impact of a brain tumour diagnosis to get back to living the best life they can.