By Fiona Campbell
A glossy magazine caught my eye last winter. It was full of photos of rich green, yellow and grape colors of gums, roads and rivers. Plus lots of people and bicycles. I was enticed by the magic it wove, the stories of struggle and triumph, the beguiling descriptions of terrain and entertainment. It was a reminder of the tired, sweaty cyclists teeming through the city streets I’d seen on a previous Great Victoria Bike Ride and the inspiration I’d felt then.
The attraction was too much, I couldn’t help myself. I signed up for the nine day, 590km cycle trip through country Victoria in Australia.
That was the easy part, deciding on a goal that made my heart sing, one that gave me the oomph for all the practice ahead.
I’m over 50 and for the last few years had been more active in putting on weight and staying indoors than exercising. I needed plenty of oomph for the ride, which was to take place in spring.
Practice: those first rides were a struggle. It was an achievement to make it to the town 8 km away. We live amongst hills, and as I puffed my way up, I remembered I could decide where to put my attention. Instead of getting into "Oh poor me, this is too much, maybe I could call my partner to come and fetch me in the car" I looked around at the scenery, smelt the gums, felt the air on my skin and made it to the top.
One of the variables about riding on roads, is other traffic. Not only vehicles, but also the four-legged variety. One day, as I rounded a corner and was gathering speed, two terriers rushed out onto the road barking. I was startled and wobbled around them, yelling harshly. I wasn’t too happy with my response to them that first day. Likewise with some drivers who seemed intent on getting as close to me as possible without actually touching. I started thinking about the good, courteous drivers (and animal owners) and the bad, arrogant ones. All sorts of ideas were going around in my head as I cycled along. I realized I had become rather serious and I needed a new approach to enjoy the training and be safe. I created a belief that enabled me to cycle peacefully and responsibly without needing to make anyone else wrong. What a relief!
By the time I’d finished my training, I was confident that I could complete the ride successfully. I had put in the kilometers, I’d also experienced and recovered from dehydration, aching muscles, and being rain-drenched. My bike had a new back wheel, a computer to count the kilometers and tell the speed, a general overhaul, and toe clips. We were both ready.
Spring came and my daughter joined me from New Zealand as a volunteer worker on the trip. Together we joined the four and a half thousand participants excited and nervous at the start of the ride.
The first three days we rode endlessly on the flat, with a head wind that did not let up. I was knocked off my bike in a peloton. On the hills day, rain poured torrentially. I was so cold that I stuffed my woolly seat cover down the front of my rain jacket for insulation. On the 100km day the sun scorched down. Some days were a huge stretch, but I never doubted that I would make it. Using the Avatar tools enabled me to direct my efforts towards the goal. I could just keep on pedaling, enjoy the landscape, encourage others and be inspired by the parents talking with their young children on back seats as they rode.
The Avatar tools are amazing. They work anywhere, everywhere, anytime, for everything. Using them turns dreams into achievable goals and life into an adventure.
Fiona Campbell, Australia
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