top of page
Writer's pictureBianca Fernandez-Clark

I Rode Across Britain

A bit about me


Hi! I’m Bianca, the co-founder and Chair of Fund Her Tri UK, a charity dedicated to increasing gender diversity in swim, bike, run and triathlon events across the UK. Our mission is to support women and non-binary individuals through various programs, aiming to increase participation and see more of us at the starting lines. You can learn more about FHT UK and donate here.




Growing up, I was never particularly sporty. In fact, I only began running at the age of 29 to help improve my mental health and cope with grief. At that time, running even 10 km felt impossible as I couldn’t run for more than 2 minutes. Today, I’ve completed over 10+ marathons and 7 Ironman triathlons – despite the fact I couldn’t swim or cycle 6 years ago. This journey has taught me that truly anything is possible.


I’m passionate about sports, community building, and seeing more women, particularly women of colour participating in swim, bike, run and triathlon events. Although I work full-time in financial services, every other waking hour is dedicated to my training and building these communities of women. Alongside Fund Her Tri UK, I’m also an ambassador for Liv Camden, a female-only cycling club in London, they taught me everything about cycling. In 2023, I served as Chair of the Women of Colour Cycling Collective, breaking down barriers for women of colour in cycling events. I’ve been honoured to receive a British Triathlon Gold Pin Award and was named one of Cycling UK’s 100 Women in Cycling.


 

What is Ride Across Britain?

The Ride Across Britain (RAB) is a long-distance cycling event from Land’s End to John O’Groats. Typically, the route covers approximately 980 miles over 9 days (the shortest LEJOG route is 870 miles, but this one takes more scenic roads adding a bit more distance). The event is fully supported (and when I say fully supported, it’s beyond what you can imagine). There’s excellent food, accommodation, physios, medical assistance, and mechanics along the way. Your bags get transferred from basecamp to basecamp while you focus on riding 100+ miles a day.


Training

Being a long-distance triathlete, I ride my bike a lot. I also swim and run a lot. Whilst I didn’t follow the RAB training plan specifically, I had plenty of volume in my legs and a lot of back-to-back hilly rides from training in Mallorca in March. I also took part in several sportives this year all of them featuring some form of back-to-back riding.


I had weeks where I was very confident and knew my legs would carry me for 980 miles over 9 days; other days, I was crippled with anxiety about the enormity of this event and feeling like I had taken on more than I could chew. These are feelings I recognize from every time I set out to do a big challenge: my first 10km, my first marathon, my first triathlon, my first ironman.


We have coined a phrase in FHT UK, ‘BiancaMadeMeDoIT’ which is about pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones, and signing up to things even if they seem impossible, put the training and not be afraid of the outcome. The worst that can happen, is that we don’t complete it, and that isn’t even too bad, trying and giving our best it’s all we can do… on the upside, we can finish, and discover that all along, we were much stronger that what we gave ourselves credit for, especially women, as we can do so much but we often lack confidence.


I heard about RAB from previous participants and via social media. Many times I thought, "maybe one day." But earlier this year, I had the immense honor of being selected as a Threshold Sports ambassador, and I was offered the opportunity to take part. I couldn’t say no, could I? I must say, it felt really daunting, so it gave me those nerves I had in the past every time I set out to do something that seemed impossible.


Packing list

I won’t even try to list what you need for this trip, I thought I knew and that I was prepared with everything but there’s so much I didn’t have! There are plenty of packing lists available in RAB website and other blogs and here’s a link to a post from fellow ambassador Jasmin which is excellent - I wish I had seen this before RAB! https://www.instagram.com/p/DAGEYhbO0bk/?igsh=emkyeW03c3JwcWhq 


Some things from me:

-        Arm warmers were perfect, so versatile! You don’t need to splurge and pay the cycling tax, I had running arm warmers that cost about £5 and they were perfect

-        10 or 11 pairs of socks. Sadly, you can’t wash socks during laundry days, so you’ll need one each day (x9). I also packed a spare pair in a plastic bag to change into, during the rainy days. I ran out of socks actually, as there were too many rainy days with change of socks.

-         Midges’ repellent, although we didn’t have any midges!

-        Your own painkillers (ibuprofen/paracetamol), the medics will give you some in a visit, but you need your own.

 

 

And now, we finally start the ride….


RAB Day 0 

I took the train from London to Penzance and then booked a bus from Penzance to Land’s End. The journey was hassle-free, and I was delighted to bump into Zoe and Carina, two female RABers from the RAB Women FB group. Although we only knew each other online, we connected immediately and shared the journey together in more ways than one. I had connected with other female riders in the past few months via Facebook and Instagram, Larissa, Alison, Farrah, Ade, Jemma, fellow ambassador Jasmin and several more. We didn’t have many women doing RAB, the start list had 88 women out of approx. 800+ participants.  


Three very nervous RABers


Although I was travelling and doing the event alone, I never felt alone in the ‘RAB bubble’ and Threshold Sports made every effort to support female riders, with plenty of excellent accommodations to us (female-only camping area, female toilets equipped with period products and female crew, chaperones and doctors).


Arriving at basecamp felt surreal – a mixture of nerves and excitement. Everything was sleek and smooth: getting registered, picking up the merch, and getting a feel for what was about to come. Because of my allergies, I stayed in hotels with the RAB plus team instead of camping. I was already itchy and had a small rash after just a few hours at basecamp. And whilst I didn’t want to take antihistamines since they make me feel terrible, especially when exercising, I had to during this day. After all the riders arrived, dinner and the briefing were completed we were sent back to Penzance to our hotels to prepare for Day 1.

 

Day 1 

Land’s End to Okehampton

169 km – 2730 m elevation – 8:20 riding time 


I was concerned about day 1 as it’s known for being the toughest. It’s a lot of elevation (the most I’ve ever done actually), but this turned out to be a great day and I can sincerely say I loved it from start to end. Whilst the route was never flat, all the hills were manageable and the distance too, and I just loved the Cornish roads and the scenery so much.  




The roads were quiet, the very few drivers were friendly, and I was having one of those days on the bike that make you feel like adventure cycling might be the thing for you…. I had ridden some of these roads before in a trip to Cornwall – but that was January and I remember being cold, windy and miserable... not today, today was perfect.


I cycled most of this day alone with the odd brief interlude with other cyclists. I was slower than anyone around me up the hills, but much faster on the descents, so there was never a right group for me. I didn’t want to overexert myself on the hills just to keep up with others – I needed to ride at my own easy effort, as there was a lot of riding ahead in the coming days.


Every day, we had two well-stocked pit stops, and the food and routine around them were the same for me. I fueled my rides with my own carbs drink (4 to 5 x 120 grams of carbs), so at the pit stops, I focused on getting real food: tuna or chicken sandwiches, crisps, pretzels, and coffee. Whilst I tried not to faff about at the stops, I was surprised at how quickly time seemed to vanish, especially in the later days of RAB.



It was very sad to leave the pit stops!


For anyone considering doing RAB in the future, it’s important to note that you have 12–12.5 hours each day to complete the routes. Whilst that is plenty of time on paper even with the mileage and elevation, it quickly slips away if you spend too long at the pit stops. Some days also include a lot of slower commuter miles, so being efficient at the stops—getting in and out quickly—is one of the best ways to ensure a successful finish.


Towards the end of day 1, I was getting a bit saddle sore and had some neck pain. I rode my bike this year even more than usual and during the longer rides in training, I became concerned about neck and shoulder pain after around 6 hours on the bike. After a few fitting trials, it seemed I am on a slightly larger frame, and the shop gave me a new saddle to sit further forward for better reach. All of this was too soon to RAB, so no, I didn't have enough riding in it I'm afraid, but also didn't have immediate issues to notice.


It was such a long day on the bike that I figured my old saddle would’ve felt the same after so many hours, so I didn’t think much of it. Day 1 was done, and I was in excellent form and spirits.


RAB Day 2 

Okehampton to Bath 

183 km – 2381 m elevation – 8:41 riding time 


The day started misty and rainy for about 3 hours. The rain wasn’t heavy all the time, but it was constant so there wasn’t much to admire in terms of scenery. The roads and hills around Devon looked like they’d be lovely if dry, but in the rain, not so much. My saddle had come loose when I hit a pothole and was wobbling. I didn’t have the tools to adjust it so I just stayed still and waited to see mechanics at the first pit stop.


Mist and rain was the theme of the morning


The combination of wet bib shorts with a new, wobbly saddle meant I developed blisters and chafing and my bum felt bruised. To relieve the pressure, I kept fiddling with my position, which then made everything else on my neck/back sore. The mechanics fixed my saddle, but a quick inspection during a loo visit revealed some nasty blisters I had never experienced before!


I continued the day, managing with some painkillers but sore. In terms of hills, these were the tough for me with gradients exceeding 17-19%. I was glad to find Carina and Chaperone Paul around 60 km from the finish, and I was also really looking forward to riding up Cheddar Gorge which was MAGIC! I stuck with them for the last 60 km, the day before, I was committed to my own effort; today, I was committed to theirs because I needed the company boost.


My second time cycling up Cheddar Gorge - stunning!

Credit @sportograf


Riding through Bath at the end of day 2 was busy, and by then, we were all tired and I was sore, but another day was done. Finishing the ride didn’t mean rest immediately. You’d be surprised at the number of things to do: wash the bike, eat some food (afternoon tea and dinner, all glorious), charge devices, shower, attend the briefing and prep for the next day. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to do about my aching bits, so I added trips to the physio for my neck and shoulder to my daily routine. In the mornings, everything got taped and bandaged by the medics in the RAB ‘Bum’ Clinic.



Day 3: Bath to Ludlow 

150 km – 1689 m elevation – 7:23 riding time


A shorter day and the only one that doesn’t hit 100+ miles. I was in pain from the start so started fiddling with my position to relieve my saddle sores which meant a very sore neck and shoulder. I moved the handlebars a bit for support, but these were all WRONG cycling positions. They’d eventually hurt, but they provided some temporary relief and got me through.


This day, we briefly visited Wales. It was sunny and beautiful crossing the Severn Bridge and one of my favorite pit stops at Chepstow. Back in England, we rode lovely routes around Gloucestershire. I was determined to take in the scenery, stop obsessing over the pain and use some mind games to get me through. The Wye Valley was stunning; I couldn’t remember which day we rode it and had to look back at photos to remind myself this was day 3. It’s definitely somewhere I want to cycle/run again.


Severn Bridge Credit @sportograf


Wye Valley - stunning, I want to go back for a run!

Credit @sportograf


Back at basecamp, I had a long chat with fellow RAB ambassador Jasmin about my various aches and pains. She’s a wealth of knowledge in long-distance events and gave me so much useful advice, including wearing double bib shorts the next day. I called Alan who was prepared to drive overnight to bring a new saddle. I mentioned that I had my old saddle with me, but I still didn’t think the new saddle was the problem. Oh… hindsight! There’s so much we could do with tomorrow’s newspaper… looking back, I should have swapped that saddle on day 1, but I was convinced it wasn’t the issue and that things would get better. Call me an idiot – I deserve it!

 

Day 4: Ludlow to Haydock 

175 km – 1116 m elevation – 8:06 riding time


Double bib shorts day! And it helped! I looked weird, and so many RABers came up to me, whispering, “I think you put your bib shorts the wrong way around.” I felt it was my duty to report that double bib shorts were recommended by two ultra-cycling legends, Jasmin Muller and Emily Chappell. I encouraged everyone to try it as it definitely helped. I was still sore, but less sore. My neck pain was more prominent than my bum pain now.



Double bib-shorts. Trend setter.


This day was called “easy” but I think we can all agree that there’s no such thing as an easy RAB day. Some stages are longer, hillier, or flatter, but none of them are easy. For me, this was one of the hardest – cold, lots of rain and when the sun finally came out, so did a headwind. The large sections of flat road didn’t give me much relief because I couldn’t shift positions as often.  I was grateful of any opportunity to take a break – traffic lights, slight rises on the road to stand on the bike or even stopping to help a fellow RABer with a puncture (though I’m useless at fixing them!). Mentally, I used every tool in my arsenal to keep going, even counting all the blue things I saw.


I didn't find many positives this day, but this was a cute bridge


I stuck with different groups throughout the day and enjoyed the company and drafting boost. I noticed bad habits too, like always using my left arm for everything (bottles, reaching into pockets), meaning my right arm never got a chance to rest and was always gripping the bike. I decided that was something I’d work on. I have to say, whilst I didn’t find many positives in the day and I can’t recall much scenery, I felt incredibly fit. My legs were completely unbothered by all the mileage I’d done. In fact, I was frustrated that I couldn’t put more power down because I had to sacrifice that to relieve my pain.


 

Day 5: Haydock to Carlisle (but not for me!) 

55 km – 351m elevation – 2:50 riding time


My mornings now started with a compulsory trip to the medics to treat my ‘tartare’ bum, they’d applied a jelly called ‘second skin’ to the increasingly open sores and taped everything else to prevent further chaffing. Next was off to my favourite physio, Andre from Wyld Therapy, for more taping around neck, shoulders, back – you name it. I was held together by jelly, tape and hopes.


Held together by jelly, tape and hopes


I also had another double bib shorts day, and dare I say it, I was pain-free for about an hour! The combo was somewhat working, though painkillers were still necessary for the remainder of the day.


This day we hit one of the worst weather days at RAB. It started raining HARD, so hard it was difficult to see, both for us and for cars in the very busy Preston. Then came the hail with temperatures as low as 4-5°C. During a brief break in the storm, I stopped early at a bakery for a warm drink and bought some plastic gloves and bags from them. I changed into dry socks (smartly pre packed), but 5 minutes later, the rain and hail started again.


I arrived at Pit Stop 1 a block of ice. Riders were wrapped in foil blankets or inside cars and ambulances trying to warm up. I exchanged a few words with the crew (they were excellent at triaging all of us) and informed them I was OK, so proceeded to get some food, a hot drink, and shelter at the garden center.


Sipping my drink, I just kept getting colder and couldn’t stop shivering. I was layered up in wet, cold clothes, including wet double-bib shorts, all soaked through – funny, this day, less layers would have been better than more layers, as it would have been less wet clothes. The rain had also ripped off all my bandages leaving raw skin exposed, so I was sore even sitting on the chairs. When I left the garden centre, I was shivering so much that the crew got me into one of the cars to warm up. The medics checked my temperature – it needed to rise before I could ride again. They had me remove as many wet layers as possible and stay there, I was there for so long and the weather just kept getting worse. My ride ended here and I was transferred to the broom wagon.


I was devastated. By the following Sunday, whilst I would have still ‘Ride Across Britain’ I would not have ‘Cycled LEJOG’ which in my mind, was the whole point. I had ‘failed’ in this goal. It was a high DNF rate day and I knew rationally that I couldn’t continue in that state, that “Death before DNF” isn’t the right approach to endurance challenges, but it hurt and mentally I broke down.  Without a doubt, this was my lowest point.


The upside of cycling only 3 hours, was that it gave all my sore bits a chance to rest and heal a little. I also finally decided to swap saddles, a long overdue decision. The mechanic/bike fitter took one look at my handlebars and said, “You must have been riding in so much neck pain!” I hadn’t even mentioned it, but he knew straight away. He advised me to return to a neutral cycling position, which he sorted out for me.

 

Day 6: Carlisle to Edinburgh 

183 km – 1599 m elevation– 8:50 riding time


I woke up in a dark mood which, hey, fair enough. The previous day’s DNF had given me my first ‘strike’ (in RAB, you’re allowed 2 strikes, that is days you don’t complete the ride for any reason) and I couldn’t face another 9 hours on the saddle in pain. Surely, this wasn’t about cycling in pain to Scotland? Today had to be a good day. With my old saddle back on the bike, adjusted handlebars, and just one bib short (back to my usual cycling gear), I was ready and actually, largely pain free!


This turned out to be one of the best days for me at RAB – maybe one of my best cycling days ever. Why? < Enter Scotland >



We rode about 20 km from Carlisle to Gretna, and there it was: the famous “Welcome to Scotland” sign. I couldn’t remember why Gretna was so familiar until I remembered it was from Bridgerton! (Colin was going to marry there in Season 1 – that’s your pop culture moment from me ).


Honestly, I started crying as soon as I crossed the border – happy tears this time. Scotland in the sunshine is the best thing that can happen to a cyclist. I was deliriously happy with the scenery and quiet roads – more cows and sheep than cars. The day was a constant layer on, layers off, as it was either too cold or too hot, but I didn’t mind, it was always sunny. Every moment was a photo opportunity, and I could have taken 500 pictures. I rode a big section with Carina, who played some banging tunes on her phone. There was a lot of singing to Queen and even spontaneous dancing.


Oh Scotland...


More than anything, my pain had subsided for most of the day. The bruising from my saddle sore had disappeared, and while I still had raw skin (heavily patched up with the jelly), my old saddle is so thin that it didn’t aggravate those areas. My neck pain eventually returned, but by then, I’d accepted it – days of riding in the wrong position had taken their toll.


That said, I arrived at basecamp declaring that today had been one of the best cycling days of my life.


Carina and I were singing all day

Credit @sportograf


Day 7: Edinburgh to Strathdon 

180 km – 2,361 m elevation – 9:50 riding time


Every morning I would wake up exhausted and not knowing how I’d get through the miles ahead. This morning was worse, my neck had been sore overnight! At basecamp, it was so cold that my handlebars were frozen and I was wearing pretty much everything I had. I had a big highlight to look forward to: —meeting my dear friend Ginnie about 30 km into the route near her house, where she’d ride with me for a bit.


I started riding, feeling completely empty. I was neck sore right from the start and had to reach for my stash of painkillers early on. I didn’t mind riding slowly and having no power, but I just couldn’t take one more minute of being in pain on the bike. This was the day I found my limit.


The whole time, I was thinking, “Get to Ginnie, get to Ginnie.” Finally, when I saw her, it felt like finding water after being stranded in a desert for days. I broke down in tears. At basecamp, I’d kept a poker face, but with Ginnie, I could tell the truth—it was SO HARD, and I was in SO MUCH PAIN. She rode with me as I rode with tears. She said so many lovely things (that I don’t remember very well) and gave me a ‘BiancaMadeMeDoIt’ bracelet— our Fund Her Tri UK motto.





From five minutes into the ride, I knew I’d be ‘tactically striking’ (aka not riding my bike) the next day. I had to finish today’s ride though, hoping things might improve, but I knew deep down, despite my very high pain threshold, this was it.


I left Ginnie and soldiered on. Glenshee climb loomed ahead, and I was scared after riding it virtually on Rouvy where it was incredibly hard. I got up Glenshee and all the other hills that day (some even worse than Glenshee), and my legs still hadn't fail me, just my soreness was limiting. The scenery was out of this world, but I needed a key to get out of the pain room.



I was so deep in the pain cave, but at least we had the views


I spoke to the crew and told them I’d be taking a day off the next day and take my -second and final - strike. I didn’t want to hate riding my bike anymore, and I definitely wanted to cycle into John O’ Groats. It was decided, and I never looked back.


Day 8: Strathdon to Bonar Bridge 

0 km – 0 m elevation – 0 riding time


I arrived at basecamp, ready to put both my bike and myself in the broom wagon. Funny, on hailstone-day I was devastated, this day, I was happy and relieved, I knew it was the right decision.


I got a lift with the crew and soon we were passing riders climbing the Lecht. I’d ridden this before during the Liv Camden Trip to Scotland in 2021, so seeing the Lecht from a car was brilliant! My raw skin was complaining with every movement and acceleration, even sitting in the car was uncomfortable at times, so I was soooo happy about the fact I was not on a bike.


Proof that I have cycled up the Lecht... just not on this trip!


I cheered on my fellow RABers en route and at the pit stops and had a fun and restful road trip with Ed and Olivia (where I learned future trivia facts like “Why is Sutherland town called Sutherland despite being so northerly in the UK?”).


 We arrived at the final basecamp, I had been dreading this one because I would be camping, and I honestly couldn’t be bothered with allergies on top of everything else! So, fully dosed up, I sorted out my tent and prepared to camp for the first—and certainly last—time.


Day 9: Bonar Bridge to John O’ Groats 

167km – 1,560 m elevation – 7:22 riding time


It was the last day of RAB! It was bittersweet to think it would be the final day, starting at Land’s End felt both like 5 minutes and 3 years ago – WHAT A JOURNEY!


 My last trip to the medics and physios (I wouldn’t have made it past Day 3 without them, THANK YOU), my last breakfast, and my last miles on the bike. I was in good spirits, I had a rash and was feeling generally subpar from allergies and meds, but I wasn’t in pain thanks to the ‘strike’ and I knew I’d be crossing the finish line of Ride Across Britain 2024: that was all the motivation I needed.


This was another day that goes in the book of favorite rides ever. For hours, the only cars I saw were our own support vehicles. The route was stunning—even though I missed on spotting any Highland cows! The rolling hills felt almost flat compared to the brutal hills we’d conquered earlier in the event. Some sections looked like riding in Mars; I kept stopping to take photos, only to find an even better spot right after. We passed many signs for the NC500 route, and I promised myself I’d be riding that route soon.


I'll be back to do the NC500 route

Credit @sportograf


But of course, the day couldn’t be without challenges, this time, in the form of a mechanical. My Di2 (electronic shifters) died, leaving me stuck in a single gear. Annoyingly, this happened just after a pit stop, but not close enough to turn back. I kept riding, hoping to find mobile support and asking all riders around me if anyone would have a charger – after a lot of not-so-fun-fixie riding, I stopped and called event control for assistance.


I had no idea how calling event control worked and I imagined the worst: an automated system, long queues, trying to select the right option when none seemed correct… you know what I mean. I’m happy to report, a lovely human answered straight away! I explained that I needed a mechanic, and she knew exactly where I was (thanks to the live tracker). She quickly dispatched the mechanic to me. It took them a while to navigate through the riders, and of course, charging a bike takes time, so this delayed me about 1 hour and I saw hundreds of riders cycle past which worried me about cutoffs. But I could only wait and be the one thing that I'm not: patient.


RAB support gets10/10


I was finally back on the road and for the rest of the day I was stressed, wondering if a mechanical issue would prevent me from finishing, ironic after enduring all that physical pain, maybe it was the bike that would end things for me. Every little sound made me paranoid—what’s that, a puncture? are these gears OK? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong before the finish line.


At the 10 km mark, I finally relaxed. Even if I had to walk/run with the bike from there, I’d make it to John O’ Groats in time!


With about 5 km to go, the tears started flowing. I couldn’t believe it—I had overcome so much adversity and pain, and yet I was still on my bike, 9 days after starting in Land’s End. I knew I hadn’t ridden every mile of LEJOG, but I had completed the event and would receive that finish line medal.


Reaching the last 5km of RAB


I’d read in another blog that crossing the finish line can feel empty, and it’s only days later that the achievement sinks in. I understand that now. After all my tears, crossing the finish line felt like an out-of-body experience. There was so much happening around me, but I couldn’t be quite present, I also couldn’t figure out what I was feeling and how to bottle up the last 9 days.


I did it, I completed RAB!

Credit @sportograf


The heavens opened again and I was soaked and cold. I just cracked on with all the admin, as the ‘euphoria’ never seemed to arrive. I went to the sign for the photo and did the most un-British thing encouraged by my friend Kara: jumped the queue. Then took my bike to the lorry to be transported back to London, change into dry clothes and find some food.


Even though we had completed this monster challenge, there wasn’t much of a vibe at John O’ Groats, it was really about the journey, not the destination. Most of my friends had finished and gone and I didn’t have any loved ones waiting at the finish. I gave my final goodbyes to the crew and the Threshold Sports angels, who saw me through some incredible lows and waited for my bus back to Inverness.


RAB Bubble 

 

It was incredibly life-changing. Whilst my journey was plagued with injuries, this quite long write-up is still missing so many of the ‘behind the scenes’ moments. There were so many friendships formed during RAB, connections that made me feel so warm, and probably wouldn’t exist in the ‘outside’ world. I shared so many laughs with fellow RABers—some very happy to know someone with worse saddle sores than them, others always trying to guess where my flag was from (wrong answers only!). The real joy was seeing familiar faces day in and day out, on and off the bike. It was an incredible experience, and I’m so grateful to have been part of it and make it to the end, even if it wasn't much of a straight line.


I feel like everyone should experience their own ‘RAB’, that challenge that definitely pushes you and takes all of your reserves, and then at least, you know what they are.


RAB is tough, very tough but it’s of course doable as well. Would I do it again? Errrmmm…. no?? Whist many of my challenges weren’t related to the ride itself, I did feel that 9 consecutive 100+ mile days felt a bit too long. That said, ‘never say never’ is something I have also learned.  

[edited on 20th of September: I will be attempting RAB in September 2026, the only goal is to complete all 9 stages, 1000 miles and the full LEJOG]

Jumped the queue, all for this one!

Credit @sportograf

 

 And with this, I am signing off 2024 on a high—what a year it has been!

 

1 comment

1 Comment


Wow! What a great write up. It just took me back when otherwise it was all blur. I usually write these things down myself, in order to process things better and make the memories more real, but with everything we had to do, I was too busy trying to just survive each day. So thank you for this. And respect to you for fighting through the pain and also knowing when to give yourself a break. I feel like even missing some parts have you more of an experience of seeing what goes on behind the scenes to make RAB what it is even beyond the cycling.

Like
bottom of page