Santa on a Bike

There's nothing like a 6.30am cycle on a frosty Christmas morning to waken a chap up. 
On Christmas Eve night we discovered one of our daughter's presents was still at my parent's house. So, not wanting to disappoint her and also not risk wakening her with the sound of an engine starting up, I took to 'The Raleigh' and off I went to retrieve the aforementioned present.
Now, I don't know dear readers if you have ever ridden a bicycle in the dark and on ice, but I can assure you it is not for the faint hearted, no pun intended.
Anyway, after a few impressions of Todd Carty on a bike, and a welcome cuppa at my parents, I made it there and back on slowly thawing roads before my daughter realised a new day had dawned, and all was well in 'Cycling Santa's' household once again.

The Goal.

As I lay in intensive care back in Sept 2012, one of the things that kept me focused was a determination to complete my planned charity cycle (although with tubes and wires everywhere it wasn't looking as though it was going to be anytime soon). However here I am 15 months on, and although things aren't quite perfect yet, they are a whole lot better than what they would have been!!

I've been looking at possible options for recipients for my cycle and the aim is to complete a charity cycle at some point in 2014/15.

Season's Greetings

Autumn on The Bann

Herons in the Park

The famous Raleigh Heron meets the real thing.

Hillsborough Lake

Today the road took 'The Raleigh' and I to Hillsborough Park, a beautiful although at times overcrowded setting if ever there was one. A popular spot for walking and, for the slightly more energetic, running. The forest path surrounds a lake which is stocked with the wily rainbow trout.

The Colours of Autumn

The Brontë Connection at Magherally

Took a short 23 mile run, well cycle, into Dromore this morning, and on the way I stopped at Magherally Old Church near Banbridge.
It was in this church in the summer of 1776 that Hugh Brontë and Alice McClory (grandparents of the famous Brontë sisters) were married. Although engaged to Joe Burns, a local farmer and fellow Catholic, Alice had secretly decided to take a different groom to the altar, and in a different church.
The McClory family did not approve of Alice’s friendship with Hugh. Not only was he not local and little known about him, he had no visible prospects and most importantly he was not a Roman Catholic. On the other hand Joe Burns filled all the McClory’s desires, though not Alice’s.
Today the church stands roofless but proudly on top of a County Down drumlin just a couple of miles from
Banbridge. Built in 1770 to replace an older and smaller church, which was in serious disrepair, it in turn was replaced in 1886 by a new church on an adjoining drumlin. The well-kept churchyard surrounding the ruin is still in use today and attracts visitors not only for the Brontë connection, but also to visit the grave of a well-known playwright and author, Helen Waddell. Although born in Tokyo she was brought up in the Banbridge area and expressed a desire to be buried at Magherally.

Me, Myself and 'The Raleigh'

Being a ahem, cough....'hip and with it' type of chap..... I give you a 'Selfie' of sorts

Two iconic images for the price of one.

A sight you don't see too often nowadays.
The famous red phone box is sadly now a thing of the past in most areas, but this one at Ballroney Post Office in Co. Down presented the perfect photo opportunity.

Newcastle

There's something really nice about Newcastle, or anywhere for that matter, in the autumn.

The rush of summer has long since passed and there sems to be a more relaxed feel to the town. Anyway that's where my trusy steed and I ended up today during a 45 miles ride, on what was a beautiful autumn day. It was so nice I sat on the promenade for half an hour with my water and sandwiches (no expense spared here) and just took in my surroundings.

A good day to be alive and healthy.

The Brontë Homeland

Most people are familiar with the story of the Brontë sisters, Charlotte, Emily and Anne. 
The sisters, well known as poets and novelists, first published their work under masculine pseudonyms, due to the custom of the times practised by female writers. Charlotte was the first of the sisters to achieve success with Jane Eyre, whilst Anne's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and of couse Emily's haunting Wuthering Heights were also masterpieces of literature and they have become subject to a following that hasn't wavered with the passing of time.
The family will forever be associated with Haworth in the West Riding of Yorkshire in England. Their home, the parsonage at Haworth is now the Brontë Parsonage Museum and has become a place of pilgrimage for hundreds of thousands of visitors each year, but what is perhaps less known is that the sisters' father Patrick hailed from Co. Down. 
If you want to find out more about the link between the Bronte family and Northern Ireland visit the Bronte Homeland south of Banbridge. There's a well-signposted ten mile drive that will take you to the birthplace cottage of Patrick, to the Drumballroney Church and School where he taught and to the stunning Bronte Homeland picnic site, overlooking some of the most picturesque scenery in the county. There's an interpretative center inside the Drumballroney Church and School House and you can easily follow the story of Patrick Brontë and his family through the buildings that survive within the Brontë Homeland. The Brontë Homeland Drive starts at Drumballyroney Church and School near Rathfriland, ten miles south of Banbridge. It is well signposted along the entire route.

An Action Plan

Back in the summer of 2012 I decided I would put my love of cycling to good use and do a sponsored cycle for an as yet unconfirmed animal charity. Obviously the events of Sept 2012 put that idea on the back burner a bit, but now that I'm getting back into action, that plan is off the back burner and heading for the road.

Stay tuned...... 

What a difference a year makes!!

On 27th September I was staring down the barrel, figuratively speaking, of my biggest crisis in life so far. An exercise stress test (treadmill) three weeks previously had shown a seriously major problem with the old ticker, or to be more precise the arteries around it and no amount of tablets was going to cure it.
Well now, almost one year to the day since I had my 'argument' with a heart surgeon.... and came off decidedly second best....... I have again jumped on that very same treadmill for a follow-up test. 

In 2012, I lasted all of approx 4-5 minutes before my physiologist watching the strange happenings on the heart monitor had seen enough and got me off the treadmill before I possibly keeled over and delayed the doctor on duty's afternoon coffee break. This time that very same lady watched me do a full 18 minutes and I quote 'set a benchmark for the others today'. 

On that remarkable day in 2012, when I waved over at the Grim Reaper, I suppose in a way my life changed completely, 

Some day when the time is right, through this blog I will publicly thank everyone who has got me this far.

In the meantime Thank God!!

Clocking up the miles.

Good week on the bike, for the first time since the op I’ve went over the 100 mile mark in the past week…… furthest ride was 34 miles and 119 miles in total.

Back on the Bike!!

Slowly getting back into the swing of things on the bike, a week of inactivity can make a big difference to one's fitness levels but we're back on track again. Onwards and upwards, tally-ho and all that..........

The Serenity of Creation

Took this shot of the coastline at Portstewart from the strand on the first evening of our wee break on the North Coast.
Christopher Cross wrote in his song Sailing...'and if the wind is right you can sail away, and find serenity'....... I think I'm starting to get what he meant!!

A trip to the North Coast beckons.

Chest still hurts from the op but all good otherwise and now taking a break from spinning the cranks to spend a week with the family on the North Coast, Portstewart here I come!!
(Wonder can you hire a bike up there)

Me, Myself and I......

Greetings dear readers,
I have decided to start a new blog and delete the old.
Why I hear you ask, well in a way by doing so, it sort of mirrors my life.
One chapter has closed and a new one is beginning.......

Last year, at the ripe old age of 46, I was merrily going about my business and had a few things mapped out.
I was intending to take a completely new career path, I was also intending to do a 100 miles charity cycle, why heck at times I even found myself occasionally thinking ahead 15-20 odd years to my daughter's wedding with the fullest intention of walking her down the aisle.
However on Monday the 3rd of September 2012 these things not only seemed like a dream, there was a very real chance I might not be around long enough to see them come to fruition.
Of course with the uncertainty of life there is still a chance of that, but at least I now have a fighting chance.

There is not a day goes by when I don't thank God and cycling for saving my bacon...let me try to explain without sounding too melodramatic.
In December 2011, I began experiencing a small ache in the first mile or so of my bike rides, I could pinpoint the same point on the road where the ache would come on, it wasn't the classic pain where I clutched my chest and arm, no it was more like sticking my knuckle into my chest at the same small point just right of central. No shortness of breath, no sweating etc, in fact the pain wore off after a few miles and on I went for approx 25-40 miles with neither an ache, pain or symptom of any description the rest of the day.
This pattern continued right up until, and even for a few months after I went for tests in the summer of 2012.

The general consensus among many, in fact most hospital professionals I have encountered is that I could, and really should, have hit the deck, particularly on the bike, with one doctor remarking that 'how you weren't  found on the road with the bike on top of you is a total mystery.'
Seemingly my old ticker was so fit and strong from over 30 years of cycling that it managed, in the words of my cardiologist to 'really push blood through the narrowed arteries.'
See, what I had brewing among my 3 shot arteries was the infamous 'widow maker' which is explained better here than I possibly can http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Widow_maker
This bad boy was silently plotting my demise and if I hadn't been cycling I would never have known anything about the evil plan being hatched in my chest.


I've been told that I was 'caught in time' and also that I did actually have a heart attack.
Sounds like a contradiction in terms I know, but what it means is that I did have a mild heart attack at some point (although I'm not aware of it) but I was caught in time before I really experienced a major cardiac event, the type of which is seriously capable of ruining one's day.

The question has been put to me many, many times.... if I am anxious in any way by having a 'ticker attack? my reply has always been...... 'not in the least, so long as I don't have another one!!' ;-)

I still hope to make that career change, still hope to do a charity cycle, and if my daughter meets the man of her dreams one day and decides to make a dishonest man of him, then I hope to walk her down the aisle.
I have deliberately replaced the word intending in my original plans with that great word hope. 

One thing this whole experience has taught me is never, ever, take life for granted and don't put off until tomorrow that which can be done today.
If it's God's will that I live long enough to fulfill my plans then that's good enough for me, if it's not God's will....... then that is, and has to be, also good enough.
I have already had 5-6 months more on this mortal coil than, quite frankly I should have had, and never have I appreciated the sight of my daughter opening her Christmas presents more than I did last December.

A term I heard regularly on and off the hospital wards was 'someone was watching over you'.......the folks who said this will never utter a truer word...........

Thank-you for listening.
'Stefano'