All my training culminated two days ago, in a 180 km slog from Whistler to Lillooet via Pemberton Meadows. But this wasn't just about me, it was about completing that distance with the Cycling to End MS athletic team: Zach and Adrian, and our support team comprised of Ali Wasiliew (expedition manager) and Rowan Twine (expedition cinematographer). Besides the distance, we had over 2 kilometers of ascent to conquer, not to mention a 1000 meter ascent over 10 kilometers on an average gradient of 11%. How would we cope as a team, would we be adjusted to each other's cycling styles? Would the hill break us down (the hill was only 70 kilometers into the journey), would the support team work with us seamlessly? How would we feel after the training session?

The weather was brilliant, between 25 and 35 degrees celsius. We started rapidly, cycling at break-neck speed down to Pemberton, my speedometer registers a max speed of 72 km/h and in that hour, and an average of 52 km/h. Then the terrain flattened out and we cycled deep into the Coastal mountains to Pemberton Meadows. The temperature rose by a dozen or so degrees and we were soon sweating profusely. However, we stuck in tight formation and managed to conquer the 50 kilometer to the meadows and back in under an hour and a half. After a quick lunch outside the skater park in Pemberton, we cycled 21 odd kilometers to the foot of Joffre Peak and began cycling a steep uphill for 10 km - a feat I could never have imagined completing a year earlier. I pulled a little ahead of the pack and was steadily moving up the hill when the support vehicle raced past me, and Ali shouted out the window that there was 'a huge bear ahead' and that I should be extra careful. Already exhausted and struggling to focus on the road, I was a little worried, however, 10 kilometers later and high up in the mountains - I had seen no bear. When we regrouped Adrian had a story to tell. "Dude - I saw a huge bear! I cycled so fast, I don't think I've ever cycled that fast - and - I didn't know they could friggin climb trees!”.

At the top we began our 100 km 'descent' to Lillooet. Essentially comprised of steep downhills followed by steep uphills, we ended up doing another 1000 meters of ascent between the high peaks and Lillooet. One thing that was amazing to see was the change in terrain. The high mountains were cold, but very green, and there were piles of snow by the sides of the road. Lillooet on the other hand is pretty much in the desert area. It is hot, dry and there is plenty of desert vegetation. Only on a bike can you see such a dramatic change in landscape in just a few hours. We finished cycling at around 7:30 pm, the sun dramatically setting over the orange mountains. I stepped off the bike, and apart from a bloody and bruised knee from falling over earlier, felt pretty fresh, I could have done a hundred more kilometers. Today, whilst writing this blog, I feel a slight stiffness in the legs, but apart from that I'm totally fine.

The next 8 days before the expedition, will be about mentally preparing for the expedition, reading about other athletes' experiences, and watching films about their immense challenges. It will be about taking a couple of hours out of the day to meditate about potential situations, to consider all possibilities and mentally practice your reactions. It will be about resting and recovering and considering the bigger picture of everything. The experiences I have benefited from on my past expeditions will lend me great mental strength, but I do not doubt this will be the greatest and toughest challenge I have ever attempted in my life, as short a life as it has been.

247 days after beginning training for Cycling to End Multiple Sclerosis - I am physiologically, a different human being. I remember my first 'big' training session which I completed with James Rau on a cold day in November, 2011. We cycled 175 kilometers over 5 hours after which I couldn't envision myself doing anything more that day, let alone repeat 175 kilometers on the bike the next day, and the next day etc… It was at that moment I knew that training for this expedition would require more commitment and resilience than anything I had ever attempted before - to be completed in one of the smallest time frames I've been given for any expedition.

Though training has been great in quantity and intense in duration, there is nothing that can prepare the human physiology for the stress that we cyclists will undergo during this expedition, except undergoing that stress on a regular basis. For myself, training has taken a progress-plateau form. The intensity is dramatically increased over the space of a few days and then plateaued at that level for a few weeks, before being increased again. The final month of training saw an average of 6 - 8 hours of training per day mostly outdoors on the bike and across flat terrain to simulate the conditions we will face in Canada. However, in order to maximize my cardiovascular fitness, I cross-trained going for runs, playing games of tennis and swimming hours on end!

One of the most important aspects of my fitness that required development was recovery, in particular, recovery time. I learned that this entailed proper pre and post exercise stretching as well as good nutrition. After 4 hours on the indoor it's quite tempting to eat a couple of Mars Bars and drink a bottle of Coke, and in terms of calories, it is completely justified - but not the best way to prepare your body for another 4 hour session 12 hours later.

With only a month ago before the end of my training, I started rapidly loosing body weight simply because I wasn't eating enough. 6 - 8 hours of training per day burns between 4000 - 7000 calories per day (as much as 10 double big macs) depending on weather and the intensity of your exercise. However, the fitter you are, the less calories you burn during a period of exercise because your body becomes more metabolically 'efficient'. So instead of eating 3 meals a day, I began eating 4 meals a day, and then eventually 6 meals. It is much better to eat a little a lot, than a lot a little especially in periods of intense energy expenditure.

I distinctly remember speaking to James Rau about the measures we might have to take in order to be able to complete this expedition. He suggested everything apart from doping (to my relief), from frequent consumption of painkillers, to being given intravenous drips whilst we slept. Despite these options, the expedition team and I have decided to undertake this journey 'au natural' i.e. without the assistance of 'performance-enhancing' drugs - though I don't doubt I will be popping my fare share of anti-inflammatory pills.

So after 1000 hours of training, around 12,000 kilometers on the bike, being hit by cars on 3 occasions, Plica syndrome of the knee, and 3 months of malnourishment in Mongolia, what do I look like today? Well my weight is similar to what it was just before I departed for the Gobi expedition (where I lost 10 kg) standing at around 74 kilograms. But the weight is disproportionately focused around my legs leaving my upper body relatively skinnier than before. My heart rate at rest is about 45 bpm, my max heart rate is 188 bpm and my aerobic threshold is around 150 bpm. I can cycle continuously for 200 kilometers over 8 hours straight and hop off the bike and do a 10 km run with relative ease. But these statistics mean nothing in endurance sport - the muscle that needs to be trained above all others is the brain.

No matter how fit you are, after a week of cycling 200 - 300 kilometers per day, everyone is rolling around in the same pain boat. It's then not a question of fitness, but will-power and determination. How long are you willing to go for? This in turn comes down to your motivation. Motivation is the key to success - and motivations can be glorious and noble, or dark and sinister (as history has shown) but every endurance athlete needs to dig deep down in their minds and find something, a thought, that they can summon up at any time to keep them going. Everyone has one, and for an endurance athlete, to find that thought is like finding the key to Pandora's box. If you have a solid motivation then you will get through every expedition you face. These motivations are deeply personal, and although they represent the greatest strengths of endurance athletes, they can also expose their greatest weaknesses.

After so many days of physical pain and stress, the mind is brilliant at finding a justifying reason not to continue. This is obvious during training. "If I carry on today, I won't be able to train tomorrow, so I should stop now" or "If I stop now, I will train later". During the expedition it tends to be more like "I have done x kilometers and that is enough, I don't need to continue, I have proven everything that needs to be proven". That motivation is what rebuffs those thoughts, plays them down. I've always wondered if there is an ultimate 'de-motivation', but obviously haven't spent too much time thinking about that.

We have roughly a week left until D-Day. That is, a week left until we begin the toughest, but most rewarding journey of our entire lives.

It will be a journey of pure grit, a journey of blood, sweat, and tears. By day 10, I will hate Adrian, Chris will hate me, and Adrian will hate Chris. Or some combination along those lines, potentially also involving multiple hate-connections from a single person.

If there is anything that will pull us through this, besides pure physical prowess, it is sticking together and remaining positive as a team, the conviction that one way or another we will all make it through this, and, most of all, the knowledge that our actions will help people and further our cause. Hopefully, through this we can generate funds, awareness, and research interest for Multiple Sclerosis to a level far beyond anything we could ever dream of. There is nothing wrong with dreaming, right?


Best,
Zachary

All the cyclists together. I'm in the middle trying to smile, but I'm terrible at it. At least I'm not accidentally using an embarrassing stoic Roman expression like the last time I had a group photo...I swear I was trying to smile in that one.

Chris stood in front of the projector screen, a close-up image of his face, covered by blue cloth. The 25 or so students, ages 9-12 walked into the small Valleycliffe Elementary School computer lab in Squamish, unsure as to what to expect according to the questions directed by a couple of them seated closest to me. Chris walked through the intro of his presentation smoothly, engaging the students with some basic geography questions. Most of them were silent, but one boy in particular shot back the correct answers quickly, which eased the tension in the room. As a former 9-12 year-old myself, I always was fearful when someone asked for an answer and no one gave it, as I was always afraid that I would be called on for it when I didn't know. Chris then continued the presentation.

There are two basic kinds of presentations you can sit through. One is where the speaker shows you the visual presentation and talks about them in a repetitive fashion, while the audience mindlessly tunes both him and the rest of the world out. The other kind of presentation is one where the speaker and the visual work harmoniously together, entrapping the audience into the ideas and imagery and stories that allows the audience to leave with something meaningful. I am happy to say that Chris gave the latter of the two presentations.

Chris (right) in front of a smaller sandstorm than the one described

He spoke of a far off distant land, the Gobi desert of Mongolia, foreign to most of the world. A place that very few people ever see, and even fewer want to. A place where the people, animals, and nature still reluctantly work together. They have to in order to survive. a place where everything is on steroids, as Chris put it; the wolves, bigger, the temperatures, more extreme, the insects, deadlier.  He spoke of the trek across the desert in the blazing heat, and then of the  nomadic people he lived with during the harsh winter. Much of Mongolia is wild and untamed, and the people move from place to place chasing what they need for their livelihood, like snow. One particular point that made the children gasp was the sandstorm. Chris described it as an animal moving in on itself, drawing closer and closer to the small group of explorers. One of the images he brought to show everyone made it look like a kilometre-high wall-monster. They had to bunker down behind their camels for two days and ride it out. Again, something few people aspire to try.

Chris moved into his next expedition, and at this point almost everyone was hooked. Chris explained MS in simple terms and of Zach's Uncle, Peter, who is the inspiration for this expedition. That they would be cycling across Canada starting this Canada Day for a month to raise funds for a charity. Chris told them all that if you have goals, and you can stick to them, then you can accomplish them. It may not be quickly done, nor may it be easy. The most dedicated among us all will achieve them. It's those who grow tired or stuck at roadblocks along the way who don't accomplish them. Afterwards he took questions.

To the children, Chris must have seemed nothing short of superhuman. They wanted to know more and more about his life: what languages he spoke ("say something in Chinese!"), did he buy houses in the countries he explored in? Where else did he sleep? What was your first expedition? How many sheep did you save?

Afterwards, the teachers and Chris were talking more about cycling. They found Chris' speech to fit in perfectly with their own cycling trip they would take one week later. Everyone loved the Neil Pryde bike, and marvelled at how light it was. After we left and had a root beer at A&W, which seems to be a favourite of Chris'. It also was the best root beer I've had in a long time. On the way back to Whistler, a deep fog bank rolled in and covered the road. The fog bank was a fitting end to this day, as the vivid events and stories Chris evoked faded back into memory, recorded now by flat images on a projector screen ready to inspire another audience.

Today Adrian, our team's last cyclist, was welcomed to beautiful British Columbia today by (you guessed it) grey skies and rain. Today's rain is the kind shower that manages to find its way into and under your clothes, making you feel sticky when outside, but when you step indoors, your clothes feel chilled against your back. I first met Adrian outside Pacific Central Station. Even from the 30 metre walk to the car, I became soaked. I was already running late, so I was hoping Chris would have a moment to eat at "Tom Hortens" as he put it. Haha. He'll learn in due time, offended Canadians. Anyways, I got in the car and met Adrian. He was very conversational, and as an added bonus, is 10X better at reading maps than Zach. From only a few minutes of listening to his and Chris' conversation, you could tell the two of them go way back. They were dorm mates for two years at LPC College, it turns out. The ride up was filled with loud pop music that shook the seats and made the speakers hum. Chris is convinced he'll get Adrian to like some of his songs soon enough.

The world around the side of the road was disappearing into the clouds as we went up the 99 towards Whistler. From time to time, you could barely make out the tall scraggly cliff-side, half engulfed into the fog bank.

The road then descends below the fog bank, and the bottoms of the mountains are visible. One absolutely stunning view is to see whole clouds, isolated from the rest, floating freely over the road and down into the valley. Chris turns down the CD volume from time to time and tells Adrian repeatedly of the beauty that is hidden behind the fog bank, and insists that he will be taken aback. Eventually. When the sun comes out someday.

Now that Adrian has arrived, the three cyclists have some serious planning to do. For one thing, the current checkpoints are now moot (which unfortunately, makes all the emails I sent out to newspapers previously, inaccurate) as Chris and the other two cyclists plan for a new routine that will hopefully improve their time across the country.

Bonding naturally ensues from the couch downstairs, and fits of Zach's laughter echo above the rest throughout the house. The three of them will make a nice team. The challenges ahead of them will put this new bonding to the test, for sure. Above all else, it is imperative that they stick through with the journey. That we ALL stick through with this journey. It will challenge all of our nerves to a new end, and so far, only Chris has the best idea as to what that is like.

Wish us luck.
-Josh

At 5:50 AM the alarm goes off for the first time. The ever-grey sky -only recently revived at this hour- peeks through the curtains. Grey. The colour of a grey 8 degrees with a grey drizzle and a grey wind chill. Another grey day usually means it's time to hit the indoor cycle. However on this particular day, the colour belies the temperature. The alarm plays again at 6, then 6:10. With a sigh, Zach finally jumps out of bed and out the door of his room. Chris is either awake before Zach gets up, or he's still in bed. After all this time, I have yet to hear what Chris uses to wake up to. He is either there, or he isn't. The two of them then head downstairs to have a quick breakfast. Their conversation echoes throughout the house, both voices in competition to subdue the other, it sounds like. They both have very strong voices. They talk in excited tones about their bikes, their bodies, and their training, among the related things. Zach has some things he needs to fix in his riding, including his position on the bike and keeping some proper bike maintenance rules. The two of them leave in a sudden hurry by 7, and the door shuts with a click, dishes still on the counter, and toast that never left the toaster. Out on the road, the two of them cycle over to Pemberton meadows. The weather isn't ideal, but it's better than the icy rain that can still fall in the mountains in June. The distance is just right, and the views are beautiful. No photo I have could possibly describe the sheer beauty of this area. I will post a couple here, but know that you will have to see it in person to truly appreciate what you see below:  They aim to complete 200 km in these training sessions. Now especially, as it is the "final push" time. For one reason or another, however, that usually doesn't pan out perfectly. The cyclists are very aware of keeping themselves in peak form. If something doesn't feel right, he stops. A much better alternative than to harm either bike or body so close to the expedition. As of today, they are still missing Adrian, who has yet to arrive from Costa Rica. After he arrives, they will all practice staying in formation, and then tone their training down to rest their bodies for what comes ahead. The two cyclists return home in some form of exhaustion, but still are chatty enough to pause for a moment outside and discuss how they feel. Zach and Chris then head off to shower, and then resume their other duties for the duration of the day.

The afternoons are somewhat quieter. Chris works from his bedroom, Zach works from his preferred desk with the dying chair out in the hall, and I will sit adjacent to Zach or go off to a bedroom if I am making calls. This expedition requires much, much more than cycling to get it done right, of course, and we need all the man-power we can get. The next few hours are relatively quiet. The sound of Chris' deep voice can be heard on the phone behind the closed door, broken only the creaking of Zach's chair as he leans back in it, the crack near the lower left leg growing millimetre by millimetre. Every half hour or so, Chris will call us to him, or Zach will excitedly show Chris his latest coding project. These short moments of proof of progress are nice ways to break up what can sometimes be a tedious afternoon.

Chris has recently introduced Zach to powdered energy supplements and dietary nutrition standards that come in the form of a jelly-like goo. The goo jelly, which comes in packets containing about 1.5 spoonfuls of substance, packs the punch of nearly 20 fruits. The jelly doesn't taste too bad, but I admit that I had trouble seeing the taste appeal in consuming those powders with milk. However, for the sake of the expedition, I believe they will be life-savers out on the road. Especially since two of the cyclists are still amateurs by the professional cycling community's standards, and can use all the extra boost they can get. Chris swears by them, and Zach really felt a boost in energy after consuming the three supplements we have available, one after another.

Speaking of food, everyone on the team will have little to fear when it comes to eating well. The cyclists will burn many, many calories per day on the expedition, and will have to eat up to 6 meals per day. Thankfully, I was told that half of them won't require any serious cooking on my part. I couldn't imagine trying to be creative and come up with 6 original meals per day! Zach and Chris laud my dinners I make for them most nights.  In particular, Chris liked my chicken and rice which I have a photo of here below; for some reason it wouldn't allow me to place the photo any closer to this sentence at any size. Anyways,  Zach has told me again and again that he can and will eat anything. I have personally seen him consume year-old freezer burnt peas, but he likes to eat what I make more, I suspect. Just a hunch.

After dinner, it's back to the computers, although with a more relaxed tone to things. There is much more light-hearted and random conversation between us all. Zach and Chris head to bed at around 10-10:30. Zach starts up the washer for his cycling clothes. I would love to go to bed at that time as well, but somehow I got the unofficial job to be awake to move Zach's laundry from the washer to the dryer. A simple solution would be for him to do it an hour or two before he goes to bed. If you're reading this and are friends with Zach on facebook, please, message him now and remind him to do his laundry sooner! Even though I am not a cyclist, I can certainly relate to how darn good a bed can feel at the end of a long day. However, for Chris and Zach, this was but one long day out of many, many, long days, and this was in no way an example of what they will actually face out on the expedition by far. I wish them the best of luck.