After a few days of being quite sick with a stomach bug and something resembling a head cold, things are starting to look up for me. I haven’t explosively purged my stomach contents in a little over 24 hours.
At this point there is no turning back for me. Too much time, money and effort has been invested into this race and a DNS is a lot worse than a DNF at this stage. So tomorrow at midday I’ll line up and start what will be a gruelling 24 hours on my bike that will threaten to break me physically and mentally.
I don’t expect to stand on the podium and I don’t expect to ride for the entire 24 hours. I’m not racing against the rest of the field, I’m not racing against the clock – I’m racing against myself and I’m racing for those that served this Nation and lost their battle with PTSD and depression to suicide.
The time has come for me to start my race day preparation for this weekend’s Scott 24 Hour. There isn’t anything more I can do for fitness wise for this ride so it’s safe to say my tapering has begun; no more high intensity rides up Mt Stromlo resulting in mid decent spews.
I’m in probably the best shape I’ve been physically in a number of years with most little niggling pre-existing injuries behaving themselves. I’ve managed to put on close to 5kg since returning from the Trois Etapes in France and can confidently say my roadie arms are strong enough to keep my face from smashing against my stem.
The next few days are going to be a battle to keep focused on the upcoming ride while not letting my highly intrusive work derail my mental preparation. I’ll spend the next couple of days ensuring my lights are ready and charged, my nutrition plan is sorted and of course my bike, Kate, is in tip-top form. I plan to set up my race HQ/camping area Friday afternoon with a not-so-early arrival at Mt Stromlo for the race on Saturday.
I have had a lot of support flow in from friends, family and far away supporters recently. I’m very grateful for everyone that has taken the time to send well-wishes and donate to Soldier On via my fundraising page.
The decision was made quite early to wear my Trois Etapes Soldier On kit for my 24 Hour Solo debut. It’s super comfortable, looks good and hopefully will stand out and raise awareness for Soldier On.
My preparation for the Scott 24 Hour has been going reasonably well.
I’ve been riding the mountain bike a fair bit, started my race plan, organised my equipment for the race and most importantly; feel ready to ride.
There have been a few minor set backs but nothing that will keep me off the bike. (A second bike for back up would have been awesome but… a) I can’t afford one, b) I can’t justify buying one, c) I guess this isn’t the time to be Treking…)
I haven’t been as aggressive with my fundraising as I have the past two years either. The kitty sits at $1000 out of my goal to raise $3000. With so much resting on finishing the ride I won’t risk the added pressure of embarking on an intense campaign to raise funds for Soldier On.
However if you would like to donate, please go here:
As with my Battle of the Beasts fundraising, I’ve once again made a couple of posters that I intend to use as part of my fundraising leading up to the Scott 24 Hour.
Over the weekend of 27-28 September 2014, I will be racing in the Scott Australian 24 Hour Mountain Bike Championships. While I have raced in dozens of other mountain bike events this will be the first time I have ridden for 24 hours solo! That’s right! This year my big fundraising challenge is to race on my mountain bike for 24 hours straight!
Why would I ride my bike for 24 hours?
Because I can! One of the most critical aspects to my ongoing recovery with PTSD and depression is cycling. Being physically fit helps me to stay mentally fit and riding with a purpose is especially beneficial.
For me the last 4 years has been an ongoing struggle to stay positive and set attainable goals. It has been very easy to set the bar somewhat low for a lot of my goals in order for me to achieve them. This year I wanted to do something that would set the bar incredibly higher and challenge me physically, mentally, and emotionally.
This race will be the most challenging thing I have done since hanging up my Australian Army uniform.
Why do I ride for Soldier On? During my time in the Australian Army I served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. In 2009 after returning from 9 1/2 months in Afghanistan I knew something wasn’t right. I was aggressive to most people, wary of crowds, couldn’t sleep, had sleeping issues and started drinking heavily. Like most Soldiers, I didn’t want to talk about my issues in case I was seen as being weak and God knows there were others that were worse off than me. So I kept quiet and not surprisingly, things got worse. I didn’t want to spend time with other people and I started thinking this world would be better off without me.
After several days of no sleep, heavy drinking and almost wrapping my car around a pole on purpose, I approached and asked the Senior Soldier at my unit for assistance. Instead of the words of encouragement and avenues of support I expected from a person of that rank, I was met with “harden the f*** up and get over it”. In that one moment I felt defeated, I was dismissed by the one person who is solely responsible for the welfare of the Soldiers subordinate to them. If this person wouldn’t help me and I could no longer help myself then what was next?
Luckily for me I posted into a new unit and found the support I so desperately needed from my new workmates. After a while I finally found the courage to tell my family I needed help. Road blocks were set up by another Senior Soldier and my desperation grew greater until I hit rock bottom; I attempted to end my own life. It was only when my life was at its darkest did professional help eventually appear; it was provided by a civilian agency and organised by a very kind Navy doctor.
With only the bare-minimum of support coming from within the ADF I relied heavily on my family and friends for the ongoing support I needed. After having all support services cut off after I left the Army and the near-impossibility to secure an appointment to see a DVA accredited councillor; I started talking about my issues with others and realised that many other Soldiers had been experiencing the same obstacles; especially those that had separated from the ADF.
This is the reason I am so passionate about the provision of mental health care for returned veterans. The system is not yet good enough and so we rely on each other to be open and honest for ongoing support.
Soldier On helps by providing something other support services do not. They provide hope, confidence and a hand up – not a hand out.
Like all good things, this Blog series must also come to an end. For those of you diligent enough to read through the preceding five posts, I give to you, the final part in this series.
It’s difficult to sum up an experience like the Trois Etapes into a short form Blog series. There are many factors that come into play when choosing what to include, what photos to use and how to balance the narrative so that it doesn’t sway too far into what I like to call “too-much-Chad” territory. There were certain events, photos and details that I had to exclude. Not due to any lewd behaviour, but because some members of the team are still serving in ADF and most importantly, it is not my place to tell their stories no matter how inspirational and confronting they may be.
As previously mentioned in Part 1, this was a long journey for me; and now that it’s over I find things have definitely changed for me. I’ve always been brutally honest on this Blog and that is something I set out to do from the start. I chose the name “Blogged Down By Life” for a reason. Many days I wake up and feel like I am bogged down by what my life has become.
I live with what is clearly defined and diagnosed as a mental illness; I live with a form of PTSD and I live with a sometimes debilitating depressive disorder. But despite this I do not suffer from anything. I have made choices in recent years that have defined the person I now am; some were good choices, some were not. It is difficult to find a balance between the two when your outlook of life is immediately tainted with a pessimistic view and defeatist attitude. The highs I experience in life are exhilarating and the lows, well, sometimes the black dog gets the best of me.
During the lead up to the Trois Etapes I experienced many highs and lows; and more often than not I let frustration get the better of me. Dealing with a charity like Soldier On is a unique experience. A small number of dedicated staff, a heavy workload and an increasing number of requests for support, mean that details were often late in being disseminated to the team. Things that often frustrated me were frustrating the staff even more as they were the ones spending hours of their own time trying to fix potentially catastrophic issues. Differing opinions, stubborn people on both sides of the fence and a constant stream of minor issues arising, threatened to derail this massive undertaking before we even left Australia.
Do I wish some-things had occurred differently? The simple answer to that is yes. It was an unfortunate fact that due to so many competing events and the juggling of several prominent people’s schedules that the event launch our trip deserved did not happen. The majority of the promotion for this event was on Soldier On’s Facebook page and my team-mates saturating social media with the details.
I am a more prominent advocate and supporter of Solider On and this is often a slippery path to navigate. Through my early interaction and fundraising I essentially planted the seed that would grow to become Soldier On Cycling; a community of like-minded people and veterans that were using cycling a means to recovery and also to raise awareness for the charity itself. This is something I am extremely proud of and elated to see what the idea has now grown into; different chapters in several different cities and of course the Soldier On cycling kit. But what this meant for me, on a personal level, was that I had quite suddenly became a face and a voice for Soldier On; not something I was prepared for.
This quite suddenly came to a head earlier this year when an older Blog post about my interaction with the RSL went somewhat viral across ADF and veteran aligned social media groups. I received an enormous amount of responses to that post and subsequently many others I had made. The majority were people agreeing and supporting my stance; however the negative comments ranged from differing opinions to abuse to outright death threats. This was my first taste of what my outspoken views on veterans issues would attract.
As the year progressed and Soldier On Cycling promoted and conducted the Remembrance Ride I chose to heavily promote the event on this Blog, my personal social media accounts and in the local and national media; something I do not regret doing. While the Remembrance Ride achieved a great many things, most notably through a heavy saturation in the media; I had been left wondering if Soldier On’s participation in the Trois Etapes achieved the same level of achievement. Over the last few days interacting with various people through social media, both friends and strangers, the overwhelming opinion is that we either didn’t achieve what we set out to do or we simply went on a holiday to France.
Do I agree with this?No. I do believe there were some missed opportunities leading up to the event that were out of our’s and Soldier On’s control which left more than a few people asking what was going on. One point that I do take issue with though; is that the seven of us went to France on a holiday.
Each rider was chosen to participate for various reasons. Either because of their tireless efforts in raising the profile of Soldier On, or by being affected by their service in the ADF; mentally or physically. Like myself, many of the team has a devoted a great deal of their own time and funds to promote Soldier On and the issues younger veterans face on a daily basis.
Did I see the trip to France as a reward for this?No. I honestly saw it as an opportunity to promote Soldier On and Soldier On Cycling to a potential new global audience; and this is something we, as a team managed to do. But, this is something that was not relayed back to our’s and Soldier On’s supporters and critics back in Australia. There is no finger of blame to point for this, it was something that just did not occur.
The most important achievement by the seven of us travelling to France and racing in a cycling Pro-Am was the personal growth that occurred in each of us. I shared personal accounts of survival, loss, hope and desperation with a group of men that I will never forget. I saw men breakdown physically, mentally and emotionally after successfully riding up a mountain. Why? Because this was about breaking down barriers and rebuilding our lives with hope and self-confidence. At some point during the event we all conquered something that was holding us back in our lives. For several of us this was the most physically and mentally demanding thing we had done since taking off the uniform.
My story was not dissimilar from many of the others and since I have returned I have received emails and messages asking me why fundraising money was spent on sending us to France. It should also be remembered that I am not an employee or ambassador for Soldier On. I don’t know the breakdown of the budget for Soldier On; but I do know that the vast majority of the Trois Etapes trip was funded by private sponsorship from Defence industry partners. It should also be noted that both our photographer Matt and driver Bruce paid their own way for the entire trip! Also, each of us that participated spent a large sum of money leading up to and during the event to fund various travelling expenses.
This post was supposed to be a wrap-of our final week in France. Where we as a team made up of young Australian Veterans, toured the Belgium Battlefields of World War One, paid our respects at the graves of long dead Australian servicemen and visited the Menin Gate and saw the tens of thousands of forever young Australian men’s names etched in stone. Instead I wrote a post defending Soldier On, my team-mates and myself. I try to not let the negativity get the best of me, but when I am forced into a corner by dozens of abusive emails and messages I will defend myself and the others.
Chad
.:WWI Cemetery:..:WWI Cemetery:..:WWI Cemetery:..:WWI 100th Anniversary:..:Team Soldier On and coach Scott Sunderland & co:.
Thank you to my Wife, daughter, family and friends. Without your support I wouldn’t be here today, let alone have made over the French Pyrenees.
Thank you to my team-mates: Andy, Justin, Shane, Matt, Dan and Adam. Hopefully you all know how much your support and encouragement meant to me.
Thank you to Scott, Bruce, Matt, Jodie, Kate and Jenine – none of this would have happened without your help and tireless efforts in supporting us.
Thank you to Soldier On for their incredible work and support: Pearl, Clare, Dion, Carlie, John, Danielle, Meredith, Anna and especially Tony – (for being a friend, a mentor and being you).
It is hors catégorie – beyond categorisation; an exceptional climb.
I was quite happy not knowing what HC meant on Strava prior to the final stage of the Trois Etapes. Hearing from my team mates about how tough the 17.2km/1268m climb was; did not instil me with a lot of confidence.
As expected, Day 3 did not begin at the foot of the formidable mountain, it started outside of the hotel in the car park on a somewhat chilly morning. Fatigue had well and truly set in my legs and overall, I felt tired. I fought constant surges of nervous energy and heard Scott Sunderland’s words in my head “nervous energy is wasted energy, you’ll need it on the bike“. So I concentrated on the task ahead.
I broke the final stage into four sections:
1. The Warm-Up – Lourdes to Pouzac – 25.7km/334m
2. The Prep – Pouzac to St-Marie-de-Campan – 14.3km/323m
3. The Climb – St-Marie-de-Campan – Col du Tourmalet – 17.2km/1’268m
4. The Finale – 48.3km/-1’734m
The Warm-Up was surprisingly tough for most of us. The humidity and short, sharp pinch climbs got the body nice and warm and sweaty. The difficulty was short-lived however as we descended into Pouzac. A quick stop for food and water followed before we headed off with a couple of the other teams.
The Prep section was exactly how it sounds. We rode with some of the other teams and postured ourselves for the upcoming climb. This was the time to eat and drink and get the mind ready for the mountain looming ahead of us.
The start of The Climb out of St-Marie-de-Campan was incredibly daunting for me. I made the decision to ride by myself the night before and tried to block out everything else around me. For the first time since January I was sans beard and hoping it wasn’t going to end like the last time I rode without my beard (hint: I crashed, was injured, got stitches and had months of limited feeling in my left arm).
For me, riding Col du Tourmalet was always going to be cathartic experience. I was going to carry some demons on my back up the mountain; and by finishing I was hoping to leave some of them on the top. After the initial disappointment of not riding it days before on my birthday; I was quite content in the knowledge that I would face the mountain for the first time on race day.
.:Starting the Climb:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Soldier On Clare encourages the team:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
The Climb itself was tough and I found myself constantly out of the saddle, taking back a few gears to charge up the mountain; albeit for a fleeting moment.
.:Matt leading Dan up the climb:. https://www.facebook.com/matthewconnorsphotography.:Matt after owning the mountain:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Dan bringing it home:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Jo coasting it in:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Justin finishing off an exceptional stage:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Andy being all cool and collected:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Matt cutting cool down laps:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Shane backing up after a huge day before:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
The majority of the team finished the stage well ahead of me. At La Mongie, 5km from the summit, I was briefly held up by a herd of sheep crossing the road. A quick dismount, the bike on it’s back wheel and some select swearing at the woolly beasts ensured I was able to weave my way through the throng and get back to the business of finishing off the ride.
To be honest, I don’t remember much of the climb itself. I focused on not grinding away; instead I focused on maintaining a constant rhythm and getting to the next distance marker. My cadence dropped the closer to the summit I got. I was standing more often, taking gears off the mountain and not giving them back; I was slowly building to a crescendo. This was my chance to push myself past my threshold, through the boundaries and drop some of the demons I had carried up the mountain so far.
After I crossed the finish line, I felt a wave of emotions. I lost my breath and had to take a few minutes to compose myself; but I knew the team hadn’t finished just yet. Adam was powering up the mountain after pacing himself early on; making the best of the individual timing on this stage.
We each took a few moments to talk amongst ourselves and revel in the realisation that after all of the training, all of the riding and numerous setbacks we had, as a team, climbed and conquered Col du Tourmalet.
We didn’t stay on the mountain long. Soon we started the descent down the other side of the mountain. It was time for the Finale. Something that I truly enjoyed. There were many “whoop! whoops!” as I sped (for me) down the winding roads towards Lourdes; all the while thinking to myself “I actually finished!” and smiling.
Day 2 of the Trois Etapes started exactly the same as Day 1, except for the stiff legs and the requirement to become a walking billboard for Rocktape! Thanks to my time in the Army and numerous injuries I no longer have much meniscus in my left knee. Combined with a constantly strained and stretched patellar tendon, previously torn medial ligament and a fractured patella that often dislocates my left knee is somewhat useless when made to work.
.:Mucho Rocktape:.
Luckily for me, the main issue from Day 1 was in fact an iliotibial band (ITB) strain in my right leg. Even luckier for me was Jenine, the team swanier, who was able to strap my knees and quads so well that almost all discomfort disappeared as soon as I was warmed up on the bike.
.:The team starting Stage 2:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Typical mountain biker pose:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
Stage 2’s timed section was 75km into the day’s ride, which made for an interesting and extended warm up. We were only about 5km into the ride before Dan suffered a flat and had to swap out his wheel. This short stop was followed up with a couple of quick roadside toilet breaks and food stops. There were a few small climbs and lots of winding roads for us to enjoy on the way back out to the Col du Soulor. A few blind corners equated to a few close calls with cars which just made the ride more interesting and raised the heart-rate.
The timed section began at the small village of Ferrieres, at the foot of Col du Soulor. This time we would attack the mountain from the other side; the more scenic route to be honest. The race format for the day was the fastest six riders of each team completing the 12km section. This meant Adam and myself would lead the team out of Ferrieres at speed and then drop off when we could no longer maintain the pace.
More by my lazing position in the shade than anything else; I was chosen to lead the team out and onto the climb. I was a little nervous about this as I wasn’t the strongest climber in the team and by going flat out I was risking bonking before I had even started the stage proper.
I put this aside and decided to just go for broke from the start. I basically went as fast as the gradient would allow me to go. Almost immediately the rest of the team called out to back off a little, but this was replaced moments later by calls to speed up again. I held onto the front for close to 1.5km before I had to drop off. I watched as the team sped past me and a minute later watched as Adam dropped off from the front as well. By this stage the climb had well and truly started and the rest of the team settled into a slower, albeit, still faster than me, pace for the next 10km up the mountain.
.:The fast section of the team powering up the climb:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
I struggled to keep my heart-rate up as I went further into the climb. Unlike the day before I wasn’t getting passed as often and soon found a good rhythm alternating between sitting in the saddle and standing up for the climb. In my head I had a little mantra each time I stood up and sat back down “I take two gears and ride”/”and the mountain takes them back”.
Eventually I saw the end of the climb at about the 2km to go mark. Up until then I had been enjoying the beautiful vistas around me. By the time the 1km mark appeared I decided to up the pace and sprint towards the line. I won’t lie and say I broke any records; but for me being able to give everything I had to the mountain meant a lot.
.:Me finishing Col du Soulor:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
When I reached the top of the mountain I learnt team-mate Shane had pushed himself so hard, he had an impromptu nap on the side of the road with the local sheep. Once he was given the once over and was ready to get back on the bike we headed towards to the hotel with a short stop for coffee on the way.
As I said in Part 1 of this series, the journey to get to France was a long one both in distance and in time spent preparing.
But it seemed on the morning of Stage 1 of the Trois Etapes, it had all crept up on me and I was left wondering if I had done enough training or was I going to embarrass myself and the team.
My race preparation was simple: breakfast, shower, get dressed, pack my bag, FaceTime the family and finally downstairs to the bikes.
.:Cosaveli flags:..:My ride bag:..:Team Soldier On Bike:.
When all the riders were downstairs, Scott – now race director – gave us the rider’s brief and all the teams headed off for the short ride to the Mayor of Lourdes’ residence in the heart of the city.
We arrived at the Mayor’s residence and signed on for the race. From there we lined up in front of our team car and started the 40km ride to Arrens-Marsous for the start of the first climb and timed section; Col du Soulor.
.:The team starts signing on:.
The first 40km of Stage 1 was relatively easy, but soon we felt the temperature and humidity rising, which was going to make the next 7.4km of climbing somewhat more difficult. The first timed section was based on the first six riders of each team crossing the line. The decision had been made that the team would ride together until the two slowest riders couldn’t keep up and would drop off the pace. For me, I dropped off after about 1.5km but never lost sight of the team while on the climb.
The climb up Soulor was the first real climb that I had done in months and was a very big challenge; both physically and mentally. I set a reasonable pace from the start but stayed below my threshold; something I found difficult to do as the gradient increased steadily the further into the climb I got.
After what seemed like an eternity in the saddle, I crested the top of Soulor and crossed the timing mat. A quick lunch followed with before we rolled down the sweeping decent towards the second timed section of the day; Col de Spandelles.
We reached Eschartes, a tiny village at the base of Col de Spandelles, and prepared for the next section. This time our four fastest riders were to set the team’s time for the stage.
.:All the teams at Eschartes:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Team Soldier On with Jo Hogan front & centre:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
A few minutes after the frontrunners were well and truly into the stage the rest of the riders started the difficult 10.5km climb.
I dreaded this climb but decided to just grind my way up to the top. It was hot, it was steep and the little bugs that kept stinging my back were not helping at all. The climb seemed like it wouldn’t end and every-time I looked up to the summit I could see other riders at various stages on their way to the top.
I had my jersey undone and I was sweating profusely, as I neared the marker signalling the final kilometre I ran out of water and steadied myself for what would be a difficult final few minutes until I crossed the timing mat. When I rounded the final corner and saw our driver Bruce cheering me on I took a moment to zip up my jersey and started a little sprint towards the line.
.:That moment when you fight the urge to vomit:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard.:Andy ignoring my attempts at breathing:. Photo courtesy of Mark Howard
The 30km ride back to Lourdes incorporated the other side down the Col de Spandelles; a somewhat sketchy road complete with potholes, gravel and hairpins. By the time I arrived back at the hotel I was exhausted but extremely elated that I had completed Stage 1 of the Trois Etapes. After a difficult lead up to the event it was a massive confidence boost to finally have finished the first day of riding.
Blogged Down By Life 
