Send-Off at Golden Sq

Friday 11th June
What an evening. This dark, gloomy un-summery day with cloudy skies suddenly opens up at about 5 o'clock and the sun dances through glazing the fireflies and their guests in Soho's Golden Sq. The tone of the evening is set, not only is it a gorgeous Friday night but there is a wave of energy that has built, ready to propel us through the Alps. This event happens every year on the Friday before departure to wish the riders well on their adventure. Traditionally riders meet at the Catherine Lewis Centre at Hammersmith Hospital to see where the funds raised will be going, reacquainting us with the reason why we're here and doing this. A photo at the Hospital with the staff and patients marks the beginning of what unfolds and grows within these new groups of people each year to become the ride. Brought together by the hospital visit and convoy across London, the comradery grows. We receive our jerseys and display them proudly, they become our uniform and our armor.

We infiltrate Soho and march on our bicycles through Beak Street and onto Golden Sq to a warm welcome. The light is beautiful, I take photographs and run out of film!!! The music and voices travel across the soft, evening air and the buzz of the flies converges into the Soho backdrop. It's so wonderful to share this with our friends and colleagues and supporters, as we cheers to the donations and gather for Charlie's speech. He needs no microphone but this time he has one and he launches into a dynamic unfolding of the tongue, spewing out the who's and hows and what for's and whys. His passion is engaging and I watch the virgin riders soak in the environment and battle with the overwhelming feeling that they are really here and will really be cycling over all those mountains. We are on display and representing what has become the fireflies ride, we shout and cheer and drink. I catch up with old friends that I am so happy to see but am not left to concentrate on one conversation, it is so busy that everybody is crossing paths and chatting, getting involved and catching up. I've seen riders who helped me in my first year that I haven't seen since. Mat taught me to use my gears. Aaron's life changed so dramatically after his times on the ride. Zak was a fantastic rider. Kate I trained with. It's wonderful, I have a past with them, having shared the experience. We might be a very small part of each others pasts but we are all very prominent in one another's memories. You can't go through something like this and not make a real connection with everyone you are with.
This year is the tenth year of the ride and I've been involved for the past four years. Having first ridden during the last world cup, I have a sense of deja-vu but also a realisation that I'm back, after a break from cycling for two years and that I would rather be nowhere else. This feels like the first time again. I've chosen to get myself back here and begin to understand something about myself, that perhaps I've moved out of my grief. I started the ride five months, coincidentally to the day, after we lost my father to cancer of the oesophagus. During that time riding was like my therapy but in a very convoluted way. I associated the pain in the training with the suffering I had seen in him; for me that connection was my neutraliser. I think I've spent the last four years processing all of that and now I'm back, almost where I started. I cannot wait the return to the Alps - they are calling and I think it might be a spiritual awakening or maybe a retuning.
Cancer is evil and this grueling challenge is our way of fighting back. We all pay our own rider's fees (almost £1500) and commit to raising £2000 each for Leuka. I'd like you to donate and feel inspired.
Please read my daily updates as I would hope for you to gain an insight into what it is like for someone who rides for a cause. I like the train and cars and comfy seats but I've found a new way to help my life and do something I still can't quite get my head around. This one is for Dad.