LEJOG Recap, Refresh, Re-Energise – Day 1 – 35 Miles of Hell
Start – Land’s End, Cornwall
End – Portreath, Cornwall
Daily Total – 35 miles
Total – 35 miles
This is the picture of me taken by 2 cyclists at the start of my journey across the country. I only started this trip as I was so pissed off at not finishing the Isle of Wight Challenge the month before and wanted to prove to myself and others that if I was given enough road, I could easily cover the miles to make it to Scotland.
The day before this I ran from Penzance train station to my hotel at Land’s End and almost got hit by a bus on the main road. It was a shaky start to the adventure and to be honest I was shitting myself.
I got up at 8am and thought about a viable way out of this madness in a mild state of panic.
But I pressed Start on my watch and began.
I thought about as little as possible only concentrating on what I could control which was moving forward and making sure my watch pointed in the NE heading.
I stopped for drinks in St Just. Then once again in Xennor for ice cream in a farm shop where I had to eat standing up as I was afraid of sitting down and never making it back up again.
The first part of the day was hilly as fuck particularly approaching the coastal town of St Ives and Carbis Bay.
My fuelling strategy was ridiculously naive. I took no water with me and instead depended on pubs and shops for nourishment. I’d take in about 2 litres of liquids and try to find the next place and move on.
I had no idea where I was going to be staying for the night. I booked my accommodation towards the end of the afternoon in a pub in Hayle and in an effort to be frugal I went with an Airbnb in Portreath.
Reaching Portreath was such a relief. It’s a seaside town based around lots of hills and you have to go down this really steep hill to get into the main area. I wanted chips but couldn’t find anywhere open so I ended up with shitty sandwiches from the local Costcutter.
I was sunburnt as fuck and so tired. It was like completing any 50k race and then thinking of doing more exercise the next day. It just doesn’t register as a possibility.
I stayed with a woman called Sue. My room was tiny and upstairs and the room was stuffy as fuck and I was much too tired to get washed which left me feeling like a dirty bastard.
I couldn’t sleep because of cramps in my legs and then when I managed to doze off for a second, her son and his friends upstairs started a rave. Bleak times. It was the last Airbnb I stayed in on the trip because of this.
She apologised to me on the way out and I said it wasn’t a problem but inside I just wanted to head back to Penzance and get the train back to London.