Earlier this week, after nine hard days, I completed the Pan Celtic Race 2024, almost 2400 kms of riding and 27000 metres of climbing. These are my inital thoughts:
The thick fog in my brain is just starting to thin now. Back home after the Pan Celtic Race I was scrap at first, good for nothing, my confused, misty mind refusing to clear, thinking about even the simplest of things was like wading through treacle. I was starting to understand the cumulative effects of fatigue and lack of sleep.
For just over nine days for between 12 and 20 hours a day, I have ridden my bike along with over 300 other brave souls seeking the relief that only arriving at the finish can bring. Many did not make it all the way, but everyone gave their very best, daring to take on the mighty PCR, having a go, rather than spending the rest of their days wondering.
The whole project is a brutal one. The majestic landscapes of the west coasts of these islands, brought constant hills, there was little respite from the chill northerly wind. The rain, when it fell, which was thankfully not often, chilled the bones and the heat of the day – yes, in Scotland - fried the brain at times. Add to this, the multiple challenges of eating enough, sleeping enough and making sure you had enough juice to power up your navigation, lights and phone, gave no time for anything else.
I had grossly underestimated the mental challenge. After the overnight ‘prologue’ time trial on the Isle of Man and the early ferry to the mainland, everyone was sleep deprived, already on the back foot. The southern fells of the Lake District were in our sights from the ferry. Off the boat, we were made to wait for too long to get going, knowing that the Lakeland challenges would have to be taken-on, at least partly in the dark. Even at this early stage, midway through day two, everyone I spoke to was a little frazzled even the beauty of Coniston Water did not sooth nerves about what was ahead.
Now I am home I need time to literally and metaphorically unpack everything before writing in more detail. I pored over the route again today hoping for inspiration, but few of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Since arriving home I have sought quiet and order. I have tidied up habitually in an effort to wrestle my disordered mind into line with physical acts of neatness.
Foremost in my mind was that I finished. I believe I was the oldest rider to finish the Long Course, a dubious epithet, but one that gives me a slim sense of something achieved.
In time, my mind will turn to what to do next. Having spent two years thinking about this race, planning and then actually doing it, there is a gap, time to be filled now. There will be no more PCR’s but there will be other races. Do I want to do this all over again? I honestly cannot say. Give me a while.
So many familiar feelings over here Mike. Chapeau on an extraordinary achievement. It took me three times to get to the finish line. I really look forward to reading your story as the fog clears.
Cheers