This is the story of John Boardman and his attempt to cycle all the way around the world in under 194 days to beat the Guiness World Record of 194 days and 17 hours.
John trained hard every day for 2 long years before setting out on his epic journey. He had saved up for 5 years working in an office in London, cycling to and from work and longer rides at the weekend, he supplemented this with 2 hours in the gym 5 days a week, he ate perfectly and stayed away from alcohol or tobacco, he was the fittest he had ever been when he decided the time was right to begin.
He started from his home just outside London on a cold February morning. His panniers were packed, his bike had been serviced and he was ready to go. As he left he waved goodbye to the well-wishers who had come out to wish him luck; his mum, his sister and Karen from next door who was taking her bins out at the time, "Goodbye Mum," he said to his mum, "Goodbye Sis" he said to his sister as hugged them both goodbye, "Good luck son" said his mum, "Your dad sends his best, he said he'd text you after the car boot sale."
And so he set off on his trip, it was to be a gruelling, exhausting trip of a lifetime; it was by far the single biggest adventure he had ever undertaken. Except for a package holiday to Spain, John hadn't even been abroad before, so his eyes were bound to be opened by this mission. He set out down towards Dover where he would be getting the ferry to France, then followed the thousand miles across the whole of Europe, he pedalled across France, and Belgium and Germany and Italy; he came to Greece exhausted and was helped by the locals. He pushed on past his exhaustion, he battled fatigue, saddle sores and aching limbs but he was determined and continued on regardless; after Europe came Asia, Australia and then America. Hour after hour, day after day he struggled on and on, determined to reach his final destination. This wasn't just a physical challenge it was a mental one too.
Then the day finally came when he came back on to English Soil, he had landed in Ireland, was off the ferry at Pembroke and had just 2 days exactly to beat the record. It was going to be close but he was resolute in his belief and he was going to complete his historic victory.
It seemed to get harder and harder as he approached the finish line, the seconds felt like minutes and the miles felt like 10 miles. Suddenly though, he could see London, he could see the skyscrapers, he could see home. He battled on, just 10 miles to go, and 1 hour to go, then 8 miles and 50 minutes, then 5 miles and 35 minutes, then he was just 2 miles away, then finally he got to the end of his road. 6 minutes to go and he knew he was just 200 yards away from finishing; a tear came to his eye. His mind was as sodden with emotion as his eyes were sodden with tears. He didn't even see the traffic lights as he hit the last junction before home and he didn't see the bus until it was too late. The last thing he heard was the horn of the bus before it smashed into his right side.
At the funeral, there were 3 mourners; there was his mum, his sister and Karen from next door who had been walking her dog through the graveyard at the time. His Dad was going to nip to the grave after the car boot.
