Arvid is biking strong this morning.
Have I mentioned it got cold last night? At about 2:30 am Arvid needed to thaw out so he climbed in the back of the Rondo on top of a foamie to take a nap.
He slept from about 2:00-4:30 am with the heater going strong.
He’s cheerful and happy to have some riding partners.
We just tracked Arvid down this morning to ask if he wanted something from McDonalds when Stephanie comes.
“Nah,” he says “I don’t need it “.
This after two and a half hours in the bike after a nap.
But he will have a coffee. A large double double
Warmed up to 9 degrees by now. Up three from the coolest part of the night
So Arvid just settled down for a quick nap to warm up a bit.
Most people have warm milk or hot chocolate before settling in at 2 am.
Arvid–well, he has a Red Bull
Arvid just stopped to put on his balaclava and some leggings. Those leggings are tight!
Arvid says they are harder to put on than ladies panty hose. No response when asked how he knew that.
Practiced taking a night shot with Ruth before Arvid arrived. She’s wearing a reflective vest that really grabbed the flash, so she’s looking a little angelic in the photo.
Arvid has asked for a windbreaker. Time to put the headlight on. Took four people to figure out how to turn the tail lights on but we got’er done.
Waiting for some warm tea. It’s gonna be a nippy night sitting out here in our lawn chairs.
We are told that Arvid can be hard to wake up a couple of weeks in. No kidding.
So one idea is to wipe his face with a wet cloth to help rouse him.
But it should not be cold. Arvid hates cold water.
And heaven knows we wouldn’t want Arvid to be uncomfortable during this 10000 km bike ride!
Arvid is moonlighting as a secretary. He is three and a half hours into his final long training run and on his last pass he let Ruth know that she should be returning a call. Apparently he can multitask.
Ruth has been training the team. We are all learning how best to support him. Practicing our handoffs to Arvid. So far, so good.
Since 1989, Charles Mulli has worked to save the lives of 10,000 street kids in Kenya, Africa. This summer, Arvid is celebrating that achievement with his 10,000 REASONS // 10,000 KM Guinness World Record Attempt. The record currently stands at 22 days 15 hours 34 minutes.
Arvid will be starting on June 16, 2014. The ride will take place north of Winnipeg, on Henderson Highway between Lockport and Hodinott. Come out to cheer him on, visit with the crew, donate to the cause, and buy a book of his incredible adventures.
You’re at the right place to follow the adventure, so bookmark this site and tell all your friends!
The cover for “When Quitting is Not an Option”
Over 18 years ago, Arvid climbed onto his bike to go for a 40km ride. After 30km, he couldn’t make it any farther and had to call it quits. Over the next two decades, he would challenge the norm for biking, pushing himself to go further and further. In 1999 he rode from Vancouver to Winnipeg in 5.5 days. In 2011 he set the Guinness World Record for crossing Canada in 13 days 6 hours 13 minutes.
When Quitting is Not an Option is the story of Arvid’s life, including his failures, successes, and everything in between. It takes you from the mountains of Alaska to Cantaloupe Corner, from Californian deserts to the shore of the ocean in Halifax.
When Quitting is Not an Option will be released February 19, 2014, 6:30pm at North Kildonan Mennonite Brethren Church in Winnipeg.
RAAM 2013, My perspective Part III/conclusion: 3rd possible DNF avoided *”Quitting is not an option”* * * I was glad to have made it this far holding my own. Out of the 39 solos that started, (all categories) 20 or so were ahead of me. I had survived the the extreme heat, managed to regain an effective sleep cycle, controlled the fluid retention in my legs with compression stockings and elevated legs during my sleep breaks. A number of individuals had pledged to donate to Mully Children’s Family based on my final official RAAM standings. For every rider (all categories) I finished ahead off (including those who DNF’d) $4,000 would be donated to MCF. Since I knew that historical data indicated that 30-40% would DNF, it was very important to become an ‘offcial finisher’. At the same time, if I passed a few more riders on the way, it meant more money going to help rescue more children from a life of hopelessness. I was in a comfortable position and felt good about my chances of reaching Annapolis in under 12 days.
Then it happened. My morning crew, which included my wife Ruth had just left to find a motel. Suddenly, without warning, I developed a severe pain in my left knee. I tried to ride through it, but it got worse very fast. The terrain was reasonably flat when it happened, so I simply pushed much less with my left leg and did the brunt of the work with my right leg. However, we soon reached the many steep grades found in Eastern USA. The climbing required me to push full out with both legs and even stand in the pedals. Every time I tried, it felt like my knee was buckling under the pain. I called Ruth and told her about this new adversity, as I was not sure what was going to happen. This news hit her without warning (as it had me). A possible DNF is probably as hard on the crew, as it is on the cyclist. There is no
way I could ride some 750 miles doing most of the work with one leg, especially with all the climbing.
Ruth contacted some people back home and it became a prayer item. I took some pain-killers, but it did little. We stopped and I lay down under a tree so my crew could wrap ice around my knee. I rested and let the ice reduce the internal swelling.
There is no doubt that cycling at this level means we push our bodies to the limits and sometimes beyond. About 15 years ago I made a promise to Ruth that if I sensed that I was incurring an injury on a ride, (no matter how big the event was) that had potential lasting negative effects on my health, I would withdraw. It is a promise I intend to keep.
Seven years ago, I sensed God’s call to become an ambassador for orphaned and abandoned kids rescued by Mully Children’s Family. I quit my job of 31 years to volunteer full-time to do that. I chose ultra-marathon cycling as my platform from which to do so. I also promised God that I would do my best in all aspects, including cycling. As I lay there, uncertain about what to do, I had total peace about the outcome of this event. The ice and the pain-killers helped so I could ride again. At time station 42 I recorded a short statement for our website www.grandpascan.com. You can clearly sense that I was far from certain of becoming an official finisher again. http://grandpascan.com/2013/06/23/time-station-42-deeper-meaning-to-raam/. The remedies we tried, worked. As the hours and even days passed, my pain subsided.
I rode strong through the last 24 hours with only one short nap. I created some distance between those who were chasing me and came to within 12 minutes of passing one more rider, but more importantly, I became an ‘officlal finisher’ a second time, cycling across the USA in 11 days, 20 hours and 8 minutes. Nineteen cyclists finished ahead of me and I fared better than 19 (including those who DNF’d) resulting in an extra $76,000 being donated to MCF.
Summary:
My goal is to inspire and challenge others to share my passion to bring hope to an abandoned child. Because a child’s life may depend on it, quitting is not an option.
The things we do for ourselves will be forgotten when we are gone,
The things we do for others will live on. – Grandpa Arvid
*The middle third syndrome – sleep matters* * *
During my 20 years of riding long distances on a bike, I have developed a special respect and maybe even fear for the middle third. For me, it does not matter how long the event is, the middle third becomes a mental battle unlike any other part of the ride. This is when I am too far into an event to turn back, yet the end is so far away that it is not possible to even conceive reaching it, yet I continue.
RAAM was no different. My 90-minute sleep plan with a couple of short naps as needed had worked well. I had held up well, physically, mentally and emotionally, but I was now in the middle third. The mere idea of reaching Annapolis was difficult to comprehend. Since my crew was ‘on duty’ in 12 hour shifts, (we changed around 2pm and 2am) I set myself distance goals for each crew. This helped me stay on track and not waste time.
As the number of days passed, it felt like the crews played an active part in achieving this goal, almost as if they were on the bike with me. My plan worked well, until this one night. I am no fan of riding through the night, and with the lack of sleep it is even more difficult. Henry and Brigitte and Matt were behind me. The road we were on this particular evening was through a forest with huge trees creating this tunnel effect. The black asphalt surface had been coated to make it pitch black. The van was behind throwing shadows into this already surreal setting. The need for sleep came early. I wanted to make the next time station before I would take a break. It became a battle. The headlights of the car illuminated the overhanging trees, putting images into my over-tired mind that did not exist. Mentally I began to lose focus. I was in control of my bike, but I was slowly losing the ability to think clearly. I was on RAAM, but it felt like I did not know who was in the van behind me anymore.
When they pulled up beside me, I thought I saw David and Evan Balzer in the van. They had been on my support crew during my Guinness World Record ride across Canada in 2011. It was time to get off the bike. During my 90-minute sleep break I continued to have dreams. My one crew was taking me in the direction of Annapolis and when we switched crews they were taking me in the other direction. Needless to say, I woke up disturbed
and confused. I did get on the bike and rode about 13 km to the next time station. I was still uneasy about everything and decided to take a motel, a shower and a three-hour sleep.
When I got up, my mind was clear and I was ready to continue. We still had a number of days to get through this middle third. Shortly after Pratt, Kansas, the halfway point, I was able to do a radio interview with CBC in Winnipeg, while riding. It helped to again validate in my mind my purpose for being on RAAM in the first place. The knowledge of knowing that the distance to the end was less than what we had already travelled, was also the beginning of seeing light at the end of the tunnel. This was the first time that I felt that maybe, just maybe I could do this. I often say that ultra-marathon cycling is a classroom.
Within a defined time-frame I will experience more than many people do in a year. To learn from those experiences and apply them in real life where it matters is my reward. The middle third provides an opportunity where you have to find a way through a situation that does not seem doable. It is incredibly hard, especially mentally. How do you keep going when you cannot even imagine reaching the finish line? It seems like I am working hard to reach a goal, without any real hope of doing so. But you keep going anyway. This middle third is almost always the place for the biggest dropout rate. The mental challenge often is too overwhelming to overcome the physical challenge.
In 2001 I DNF’d after 6 days of an 18-day event. It took me a year to resume any kind of competitive/serious cycling. I also know that if I find way through this rough stretch, the challenges of real life seem pretty manageable in comparison. Experience has taught me that when I think I have reached the bottom of the barrel of my strength, I still have more to offer. However, it takes courage to dig that deep, but it is amazing what you will find when you go there. It will change you forever. God has created us wih a will to succed. I believe that He finds joy in seeing his children do their best. Do not underestimate what YOUR best is/can be. You are more capable than you think.
“It was hard, and then it became difficult” After months of training and planning, it was great to finally leave the starting gate. I had said my farewell to Charles and Esther Mulli. I very much appreciated them arranging their schedule to be there for me at the start. It is important for me to keep my cause, Mully Children’s Family, closely linked to my cycling platform. I also very much rely on the prayer support of the hundreds of beneficiaries (rescued children) back in Kenya.
While preparing for RAAM, I was very aware of the challenges I would face: the unfamiliar heat of the desert, long, difficult nights and relentlless climbing. I live and train in the prairies. RAAM claims that to reach Annapolis, riders must climb 170,000. In my estimation, 40% of the total climbing can be found in the first third of the journey. That simply means we need to climb Mount Everest every 2 days (assuming we would start at sea level, not base camp) Closer to home, if you live in a two-storey house, you need to climb the equivalent of walking 13 flights of stairs to the second floor 2000 times a day.
My 8% grade, 4000 ft descent into the Mojave Desert via the Glass Elevator was simply exhilarating. The view was out of this world. I was able to negotiate the hairpin turns safely at about 10km/hour above suggested speeds. After reaching Borrego Springs, the desert heat began to play a big part.
Over time I have learned that the shock to the system of going from 20-25 degrees to 40-50 degrees while putting in a huge physical effort cannot be avoided, but must simply be accepted and managed. I took in a lot of fluids, (2-3 bottles/hour) and stuck with liquid food (Sustained Energy and GoChi juice). I deliberately consumed less calories than I burned. It worked well for the first 30 hours or so. I had chosen, like most other riders, to not take a significant sleep break the first night. Since we were in the leap-frog stage, my support vehicle would sometimes be one km up ahead. No big deal, unless of course you are not sure that you are not going to pass out from the heat. There is no shade. The only refuge from the sun and heat was the back of the van, with air conditioning going at full blast. My crew would pour water over me, I had ice in a refillable pouch hanging down my neck. It all helped, but it took its toll. Other riders dealt with it their own way. We saw one crew holding up a big blanket for shade, while their rider lay on, what looked like a stretcher, also being cooled down with water and ice.
By the early evening of day 2, I began to lose the desire to drink, and of course eat as well. Not good if you need to ride another 4200 km.We reached Salome. A restaurant with ceiling fans provided some cooling. I managed to eat a bit, then took a 90-minute sleep break in the van. After that I was able to eat some more and off we were again. I recall mentioning to my crew that it seemed to be a bit ‘cooler’. The car read 38 degrees. It is all in perspective.
With the worst heat (at least it was a dry heat in the desert) behind us, we were now facing some serious climbing. I recall a man standing on the side of the road. He had a young child in a stroller with him. He used my name as he cheered me on. I found that strange, so I asked him, “Who are you?”. He said, “just a fan of RAAM” Than he added” Welcome to Colorado, home of the real mountains”. His words were somewhat surreal, and I frequently remembered them as I was climbing Wolf Creek Pass, the Continental Divide and highest point on RAAM (10,856 ft). The descent allowed me to reach 92.5 km/hour, my second fastest speed ever on a bike.
I had 1/3 of RAAM behind me. We had successfully avoided a real possibility of a DNF in the desert heat. I can thank my crew for ‘nursing’ me through some difficult times. So what did I learn? Accepting the reality of my situation (severe heat and unrelenting amount of climbing) was the first step of finding a way through it. Even though a DNF would have been an option, and a few riders did, quitting did not enter my mind.
In 2006 when Ruth and I visited MCF, we heard many life stories (told to us by the rescued kids as part of their rehabilitation process). They were difficult to listen to. One story in particular by a young woman named Rebecca (not her real name) has stuck with me. She told us how her alcoholic mother, living off the sex trade for survival, beat her with a machete, (we saw the scars) poured boiling water with pepper onto her private parts, etc. This was part of trying to get this young girl (age 8) to sleep with a man to help earn a living.
When we thought this story could not get any worse, Rebecca took a deep breath and summarized her life thus far in this way: “Up to this point, life was hard, and then it became difficult”, and she went on to tell us the rest of her incredible story. To summarize my first third of RAAM with the phrase: “It was hard, but then it became difficult” is tempting. That however, would be completely disrespectful to children like Rebecca and many others. No matter how difficult some of my endeavours are, they pale in comparison to what many children have to endure. Mully Children’s Family provides thousands of children with an environment where that ‘difficult life’ is being changed to a life full of hope, love and opportunity. What a privilege it is for me to be called by God to be a voice for children like Rebecca. I have simply chosen ultra-marathon cycling, and in this case RAAM, as my platform from which to say: I have heard Rebecca’s story, I have heard her cries, and I will respond with action, not just empty words.
Stay tuned for Part II: Sleep Matters
