Many years ago I decided that I would devote as much spare time as I could to charity. This was bought about in no small part by a vicious disease that ravaged my peripheral nervous system for 11 years. I was completely blown away by the support I received during my dark times (thank you Mary – your selfless dedication to the GBS Association is inspiring).

As I began to recuperate and regain strength, I thought a pushbike would help to build some muscle mass back into my legs. Having spent most of my youth on pushies, the decision was a simple one: I’d get a mountain bike for starters and potter around town rebuilding my broken body.

It took all of three months before a phone call would change things dramatically… “Wanna come and ride nasho”? The invitation to ride the National Park was met with some initial trepidation. Would I be strong enough to keep up? Would I be a burden on the group? Would my legs blow up in the middle of the National Park and result in my mates having to carry me out? I pondered these questions as I drove to the National Park, laden with my mountain bike on the back of the car (of course I would never consider not going).

That first ride back was one of the most painful experiences of my life. In one day I transitioned from “I’m walking okay… Kinda” to “You’re joking… we have to climb up that mountain carrying our mountain bikes?” (I kick myself for ignoring basic physics: what goes down must go back up.) The pain I experienced during the next three days was my body’s way of telling me it wasn’t impressed at my new-found mountain biking aspirations.

I rode my bike at any opportunity. We’d visit friends and family; my wife and kids would drive – I’d ride. My body was getting stronger. I began to lose the weight that I’d gained during the 10 years where my body rewarded healthy living with pain. (A healthy immune system would attack the myelin sheaths surrounding my nerves more proficiently, bringing with it exhaustion and pain. So I levied an unhealthy lifestyle to minimise the pain.)

I started participating in charity events – Sydney to the Gong, The Hills Classic and The Sydney Cycle Classic – each time enjoying the fundraising as much as the riding. The first Sydney to the Gong was held just three months after I started riding again. That year was a tough ride; dragging my frame over the lumpy National Park was painful and slow. I finished that year in a time of 4:15 – over four hours of pain. I’d raised a mere $500 for MS. My second Sydney to the Gong was to be an entirely different story. I’d trained hard and finished in 3:05, knocking not only an hour off my finishing time but raising over $3,000 in the process.

This all brings us to this year’s effort. I will be riding from Randwick Children’s Hospital to Brisbane Children’s Hospital in 5 days. Yes, that’s 1200 kilometres of pain, along the east coast of Australia. My initial training for this ride was based on adding mass to my thighs; the course we were taking was going to be relatively flat so my logic was that large thighs could pedal big gears all day. A few weeks ago we received the news that the authorities would no longer let us ride along the planned route due to roadworks, and we would need to reroute inland. The inland route includes some of the nastiest hills you’d want to ride with a bike. My whole training strategy would need to be revised. First item on the agenda would be to lose weight – dragging a large frame over long, sharp hills would be difficult.

With less than a month left I definitely have my work cut out for me. My training regime is to ride two hours per day during the week, with a day off on Friday to ride my mountain bike around the city with my friends, add two long rides (averaging four hours per day) on the weekends – and with this my week promises to be full of cycling goodness.

So check back here as I update the blog on my progress leading up to the ride, including the fun day we have organised on the 24th September in Martin Place (Sydney) and Queen Street Mall (Bris Vegas).