Drowning the Demons of Cycling Fear
The Grand Nairobi Bike Race, 2023 Edition
Phew! What a week it has been. This publication almost never went up, but I couldn't afford failing you. It’s better late than never, right?
I promise to keep it short and sweet. In my Kumbukumbu edition, I told you about my fear of cycling downhill and the overall phobia of cycling post recovery.
I had sworn to face my fears head on, and here was an opportunity to do just that. I registered for the annual Grand Nairobi Bike Race by Jubilee Insurance no less than a month before the event that took place on 26th November 2023.
Last year, I had also registered for the race hoping to face my fears in an 80 kilometers cycling distance. I chickened out on the last day, having collected my kit and my race number.
This time, I swore to stay true to my aspiration, no matter what. I registered for a 75 kilometer main race, which would feature the elite cyclists. My aim was not to go for a podium finish, but to participate and excosise the demons of fear of cycling and crashing.
I felt unprepared for the 75 kilometers race given that the last time I cycled was in September, exactly two months before this day. I could have used this as an excuse, but not this time.
On the morning of 26th November 2023,I woke up early at 5 am to go to KICC, where the event was supposed to start at 6 am. This was a big day for me.
Despite arriving at 6 am, my race category would start at 10:30 am. It became a long wait of four hours. I had missed a communication email about the schedule. I’d later be joined by my compatriot, Sam Kibiko.
Before then, I’d done a few things like taking a cup of coffee, trying to nap in the car, and buying the much needed energy gels and lunch bars. All wasn’t lost, after all.
The Grand Nairobi Bike Race is an annual event that is fairy new as this was the third edition. The event had over 1300 participants from over 20 nations across the globe.
The event is also named the Jubilee Live Race, with Jubilee Insurance sponsoring the race for the second year consecutively. The race aims to encourage cycling as a physical activity, promote healthy living and wellness, and encourage emission-free transport.
The 2023 edition of the race had 8 categories, including the main individual elite race event that I was participating. There was also an under 23 individual race covering 75 kilometers.
A similar distance would be covered by those in the team race for corporates, veterans aged between 40 and 49 years, as well as a masters category for those aged over 50 years.
Paracyclists would cover 45 kilometers of cycling, while the Black Mamba riders would cover an equal distance. The family fun ride covered a 12 kilometer distance while the kiddie race was meant for children under the age of 8 years.
The main individual elite race was the last event of the day. At 10:50am, we were flagged of amidst pomp and dance from the spectators. The next close to three hours would turn out to be purely experiential.
As I cruised along Mombasa Road, near Nyayo Stadium roundabout, the heavens opened up and the rains started cooling our heating crankshafts. The rains would do more than cooling us; the roads would become wet and slippery, and the cycling glasses would become foggy. It was the perfect weather condition to make me abandon the race.
If it were you, what could you have done?
The rain was too much up Langata Road. A number of riders had decided to pause momentarily for the rains to stop. Did they have a memo on when the rains would stop? On the other hand, the pro cyclists looked immune to the rains and wet roads. They were already cruising downhill at scary speeds. Completing the five laps and a place in the podium must have been their only focus.
I stuck to my lane, the amateurs lane. I wasn’t comfortable going downhill Lang'ata Road as I looked to do my first 15km loop of the race. I could barely see anything ahead down the road. It was too rainy. El-nino? I had to stop momentarily to avert any crash. Fear gripped me.
After seconds of a self-talk and reminding myself that the rain would not stop for me to ride, I hopped back onto my bicyle and continued with the race. I had to believe in myself. I had to call out the demons of fear. I also had to ride technically to avoid any error and finding myself laying on the wet roads.
The rains continued throughout the second loop before it was sunny and dry once more. At this point, I had garnered enough courage to eat the hills like yams and drop the slopes at 53km/h speed.
Although I did not do the final 15 km loop, I had won. I had won against fear. I had won against negative voices in my head. I had won a physical battle of cycling for 62 kilometers in 2:40 hours. The roads were opened for normal traffic to resume before I could do my final lap. I chose to cut short the race than risk being on the roads with uncontrolled traffic.
A fellow cyclist almost crashed on me at the finishing line roundabout as the race marshal stopped us from going for the final loop. I thank God it was all safe.
I proudly crossed the finish line and acknowledged the cheering crowd. I truly felt like a champion as I picked my participation medal. I also got a 2022 medal, the race I abandoned last year. It was a double win for me.
I couldn’t be more proud of this achievement I am ready to face the climbs and downhills. Bring it on!
Congratulations on facing your fears, Patrick