Dunkirk or bust by Jane Clamp

photo courtesy of  cyclehistory.wordpress

It was a surreal moment. There I was, under the Eiffel Tower, along with crowds of others enjoying the September Paris evening. But next to me was my push-bike. And I was resplendent in Lycra shorts, a high-vis jacket and a helmet. As nonsensical as it seemed, this middle-aged, cardigan-fond woman had cycled from London to Paris! I’d done it in some style, too, metaphorically wearing the yellow jacket on two of the legs. 

It lulled me into a ridiculously false sense of my physical capabilities, exposed during our next long-distance ride from the Hook of Holland to Dunkirk. This time, I was a year older (it transpired those months had not been kind…) and we cycled into a headwind for the entire distance of the trip. There were a few of us stragglers, watching the backs of our fitter companions disappear towards the horizon. I was left feeling every syllable of the obvious truth: I couldn’t do it. Every turn of the pedals was done with lead-legs and, at times, with tears pouring down my face.

Fortunately, I was about to be rescued. Not by the support vehicle which was loaded up with energy-boosting supplies though no actual seats, but in the form of two of the stronger riders. They took it in turns to let me slip-stream them as they rode. For those of a scientific mind, this is the ‘partial vacuum created in the wake of a moving vehicle, enabling a following vehicle to take advantage of the decreased air and wind resistance.’ Put simply, my legs still had to do the up-and-down-without-ceasing thing, but it felt like I was attached to the bumper of a lorry or, more accurately – given the speed – a milk-float.

As writers, we can often feel wearied by the ride. We gear ourselves up with all the right equipment, flex our muscles and set off with confidence and optimism. But it can be a gruelling journey. Not only do we grow physically and mentally tired (not to mention emotionally and spiritually), we have to cope with challenges such as seeing our previously evenly-matched companions go streaking off into the distance, leaving us behind. With increasing exhaustion come the niggling doubts. What am I playing at? What was I thinking to have even started? Who did I believe I was?

These are the times we need others to gather around us, to cheer us on, to say, ‘I’ve got this.’ That will look different for each of us, but perhaps there’s a writer further along the road than us who wouldn’t mind coming alongside us for a while. (Be thinking, won’t you, whether you are such a person for someone else?) Whether it’s prayer, ‘another pair of eyes’ on a WIP or a shoulder to cry on, we are all in need of support sometimes and, at others, able to offer it.

Whatever your intended destination – Eiffel Tower or no – I pray you get there, with a little help from your friends.

 

Jane Clamp is Groups' Coordinator for ACW and author of Too Soon, a mother's journey through miscarriage (SPCK).