Chris Froome's true struggle

I could see no better time than now to pay a tribute to a great man and cyclist, Chris Froome. My post is directly connected to the the first couple of chapters of his book "The Climb"

For those of you not familiar with Froome, he was the man who fought for Sir Bradley Wiggins in 2012 during the Tour De France to win him and his team an overall victory. One year later, his undeniable strength during the previous years tour, earned him the right as team leader for Team Sky. All eyes were on the Kenyan to deliver, and deliver is precisely what he did! Froome rode the perfect race not putting one foot wrong in the grueling three weeks in one of the worlds toughest races and was crowned the Champion on the 100th edition of the tour.

So what makes Froome so great? As I studied the man and his humble Kenyan beginnings I begun to realize that training, never giving up and pushing through pain in cycling would never be his biggest challenge. Let me elaborate. At the age of 6, Chris's mother and father went through a tough divorce leaving Chris and his mom financially crippled in Kenya while his father moved to South Africa.

Chris speaks in detail about his first race in Kenya on his entry level super market bicycle that is left damaged after his mom bumps him off it while driving behind him in her car. He speaks about meeting David Kinjah, the Kenyan cycling legend that taught him everything he knew. He speaks about sitting in the village watching the bicycle mechanics hammer his bike into shape. He speaks about his mom and his relationship and them making promises to never shout at each other again after his dad leaves the house.

He also speaks in detail about the feeling he feels in his stomach as a youngster when people shout at each other and the vivid memories it brings back of his mom and dads bitter relationship. After that he explains the time that his dads employees tear their gate down and storm the house to take most of their belongings away. A story that is touching to me is when he sells fruit at the local village and slips the notes into his moms purse without her knowing. He is always concerned about their financial situation and gets worried for his mother when it is her turn to buy all his friends ice cream that he rushes into the shop and choses all the cheapest ice creams for his friends leaving them no room to decide for themselves.

Starting off in a dusty village on an old bicycle in Kenya seems like an unlikely setting for our Team Sky hero but it makes one realize just how much of his struggle happened before he ever got his first road bike.

Struggle is key, getting through struggle is vital and conquering the mind is crucial in becoming a champion. It has been easy for Froome to conquer mountains all over the world compared to the struggles he had to overcome in Kenya. Failure was not an option!

The love of writing

In the past two weeks I have finished Sir Alex Ferguson's Autobiography as well as being on the verge of finishing Rafa Nadal's Biography.

The love of writing and reading I feel has definitely become a more integral part of my life in the past couple of months. Its the place where I can find my most peace and solitude in the midst of all that goes on around me on a daily basis. 

Just today I was stopped by a lady in gym who had promised to bring me a copy of a book she said she would bring for me a couple weeks back. She ordered me to dig around in her back to find it while she continued her exercise routine on the treadmill. The  book is about Two Port Elizabeth brothers who cycled from South Africa to London before world war 2 even started. 

I have examined the cover briefly and don't want to take to much notice of it until I have finished the book I am currently on. It looks very interesting though, and I must say I can't wait to start it.

Im in a bit of a frustrating place at the moment and I am not to sure why. I feel myself becoming less effective in my planning leading up to Cairo to Cape Town Expedition. Perhaps it is the sheer distance and difficulty of the trip that has discouraged my planning. 

I sit looking over the towns dam during this particularly chilly winters day and long for adventure beyond. The air is dirty and smoke from fires hover around the house every evening. There is something dreary and dead about a this town in the dead of the winter that leaves a sick feeling in my stomach, an emptiness, a longing for solitude on the road. I have been quenching my thirst for adventure in my books, but the books will only help me for a tiny bit longer.

The Blind leading the blind...not such a bad thing

Music whispers quietly in the background of my local gym as I make my way out towards the parking lot. Its been a good, challenging session, a usual day, nothing to be overly excited about.

I look down at my feet as I stroll over the gym floor. My feet follow one another in a slow smooth rythym as my eyes gaze in a trans at the patterns on the floor. Past the tread mills, then the stationary bikes and the orbitrex machine, I walk, slowly, thinking about everything but nothing at the same time. My head hangs but I am not down, I came here for business and I don't want to disturb anyone getting their work done, I look at nobody. The clanging of weights and the squeaking of the circuit timer make me aware of where I am. Its a place to escape, to dream your dreams in the presence of other dreamers while sweat drips down your brow and pain enters every inch of your body.

I continue slowly until an arm reaches out from the direction of the abdominal section and blocks my path. I get caught thinking negatively and my face shows the dissatisfaction of being disturbed. "Are you the guy that cycled to Cape Town from Witbank," he asks.

My face should light up, my heart should ignite and my words should bubble over in excitement for the three epic journeys that have changed my life...but...they don't. I hate the attention! I want to hide behind my words written from behind a keyboard while lying in my tent as a storm rages outside. I want to hide behind a still photograph that shows a smile on my face while I pedal where no man should be riding. I fight my feelings and try to be the light in the darkness that shines to give others hope, but I struggle. Id prefer to be the faceless soldier, hiding behind a grid iron battle mask, that represents an ideal rather than just another man.

I stretch out my hand, smile shyly and admit that its me, while scrambling to put my phone and keys on the bench to shake his hand. After three years of cycling I am still unconvinced of my achievement as to whether it is something that should be admired by others or not. Its something that every single person is capable of. None the less I try my utmost best to look amazingly confident in my adventures.

We engage in a conversation and the man tells me his name while asking question after question about my trips. I attempt to answer in the the little amount of time I have been given but know, I can only express the tiniest of fraction of the true experience. After sharing my story in a pathetically short unimpressive summary. The man, a lean but strong African, approximately the same hight as me, who I have now come to know as Kenny, begins to engage me in a story about a fellow colleague of his.

His colleague is partially blind and each year his sight deteriorates drastically. As Kenny describes the troubles the man goes through on a daily basis walking to work, my mind takes me away as I try to imagine the difficulties of his condition. Its not long before my eyes begging to blink fastest and I feel tears building up in my eyes. Kenny has only been speaking for a minute but it feels as though I know his colleague well enough to sympathize with him. My emotion begins to show as he describes the mans two comrades marathon finishes only being able to see a few feet in front of him at a time. I cannot fathom the difficulty of his achievement and feel it only natural to feel overly sorry for the man.

Its then that Kenny says something extremely profound, "He can only see a little in front of him, if you call him from far, he has no idea who is calling him." The words echo in my mind as the sentence filters down to the deepest chambers of my heart. And then, it dawns on me. This "blind" individual is someone who we can learn a great deal from in our daily life. If we can only but look a couple of meters ahead of us at a time, we will perfect the small steps in between our goals. While staring at mountains we stumble on the pebbles at our feet. Though he cannot see far away, the man makes use of the vision he does have to examine that which is close much more intensely than an average man.

This man with little vision may perhaps have taught me to have more vision and has inspired me without even being present. This stranger, who I do not know, has become an inspiration to me. Never be so closed minded about your achievements that you cannot stop to draw a lesson from those which walk around us on a daily basis.

Keegan "Kunjani" Longueira

The reasons we love gym

I sit under the hood,which hides my identity from the world, and stare down at my swollen hands which rest on lap facing downwards. The smell of sweat, blood, broken dreams and hopes fill my nostrils...this is my battlefield.

My chest rhythmically balloons up and down as I try recover while my head falls back and rests just over the cold leather bench which supports my back. Im focused, my eyes are now closed as I see the music in my mind that blares into my ears. The muffled noise to those which pass is my inspiration. Behind the music I can faintly make out the sound of clanging iron and shouts of encouragement. The dark room lightens slightly as the clock hits 5am. My shoulders are paining, there is little that can compare to the numb bulging feeling I feel in my arms. "You will amount to nothing," "You are going nowhere", the words of critics fill my conscious mind as I reach down and clench my weights...the only thing that doesn't lie to me, my only true friend, my brother, my advisor...my iron. I heave each dumbbell onto my thighs one at a time while never loosing sight of the faded number tippexed on the face of the plates. I have nothing left inside my muscles and the only energy pushing me forward is that of the cruel words whispered at me behind my back..."failure" I whisper to myself as my right leg kicks to assist me bringing the weight up to my shoulder. My left leg now kicks as I shove the second dumbbell to my shoulder. My back feels as if its breaking under the pressure but the motivation inside of me balances my spine. 

I compose myself, the calm before the storm...I am ready. You see because its never been about the weights I fling around nor the man I see in the mirror. It has simply become a punishment, a self inflicted yet passionate pain that moulds my mind, my character and my entire being. I clench my teeth as I throw the iron heavenly, my head feels as if its about to explode. As I lower the weights and catapult these dreams upwards again my neck muscles and back clench tightly. By the third repetition my arms shake violently. This is where champions are made I say over and over in my head as the sound of my heart beat thuds in my ear. I feel the throb of my heart in my eyes and head as I complete the fourth repetition. By the fifth, my arms are failing. I call upon my heart once more as I shut the excuses in my mind up for the last time. The weights clang in unison with my shaking arms and as they reach the summit of my repetition they begin pressing downwards quickly. Gravity seems stronger as ever as I throw the dumbbells into a pile on the floor in front of me. I drop my head once more, not looking up, staring...staring at my broken dreams. I stare at the veins in my hands, my shoulders are tighter than ever as my chest begins to balloon one more. A drop of blood falls onto my sweaty gym track pants as I continue to stare at the weights on the floor. I will never give up. I will continue to pursue perfection in everything I do. I am a man, full of courage, ready to chase a path less travelled in order to obtain a prize no man can touch, taste or feel. This is my battlefield.

The dangerous road ahead

Kidnaping and violence in Kenya is on the rise, the issues of spiraled so far out of control that now, sitting safely in South Africa, I must sit up and take notice.

The word faith is often thrown around in our comfortable safe little lives. Setting foot in this country, alone and completely unaided starts to bring a new dimension to the word for me. It is true that I only leave on my Cairo to Cape Town Expedition in January 2015 and it is also possible that all these events have subsided by then, but the horrors being shown on the news today left a lump in my through.

It's gut churning to think, in a couple of months, I will be cycling into the unknown...and as I type on my keyboard again this word echoes in my subconscious, "faith." What does it mean? Who is for? The religious? The God fearing? The noble? I'm as lost as ever before as I dive deep into the meanings of the word and the various translations.

Just today I got an email from David Grier in connection with the new VISA law being passed in Kenya:

" Hi Keegan

The hardest part of this journey is going to get the visas. The same happened with the 2 guys who flew micro- lites down Africa. The other problem is the huge increase in terrorist activities with Boko- Haram. Word will travel ahead of you and you will be a target.You are going to have long stoppages at border posts and the rest.  

Kind Regards " 

Another travel UK government site offers advice to those traveling abroad to Kenya pleading with them to be vigilant of terrorist attacks. And all the while, my bicycle, being alone seems to complicate my situation further. I don't know what lies ahead, but I shall walk bravely with a God who has been with me since day 1. 

I will walk ahead in faith praying for people to keep me and Kenya in my thoughts and prayers when I leave on January 1 2015. 

Be invincible

For any of those die hard sports fans and more so, lovers of underdog, comeback movies, I suggest that you all watch "Invincible". It's a movie by Ericson Core and tells the tale of Vince Papale (Mark Wahlberg) a 30 year old part time bar tender from Philadelphia who tries out for the American Football team, the Eagles. 

I love the movie. The true live drama is not only an action packed, gripping tale but a heart wrenching film for the whole family as well.

Papale is criticized by his team mates who just can't quite wrap their heads around the idea of an old washed out football lover, stepping into their arena to make the team. Papale through hours of bullying on the field, returns to his locker each day to a note in which his ex wife had left the night she left him. "You will never amount to anything, you are going nowhere..." Are the words that capture your attention on the note. The scenes are touching. You see Papale in this sea of emotions, wrestling with himself constantly as whether to believe the note, or to simply try. His battle rages silently as he fights battles on the football field each day as well as in his suburb where most silently agree with the "you are going nowhere" note. 

Although Papale has a mountain to face, he retreats inside himself to inner strength to deal with his life which suddenly has become so complicated. It would have been so simple to have just remained comfortable where he was in life. 

But the character of Papale mirrored by Wahlberg in the movie is one which might often be overlooked by society. Reaching the top is about getting ahead, standing on others while using power, courage, stubbornness and greed to launch yourself into heights you can only dream of. Yet Papale, long haired, down to earth bartender, stays humble. His years of feeling like his voice wasn't heard , mixed with his social class that echoes "you are nothing" shines through in the situation. Papale has everything to learn, he takes advice, he learns new things and takes the hits. Day after day he is pounded on the field. 

In one scene after a "nutcracker" session which involves two players in a gauntlet trying to out muscle each other to get to the other side, Papale finally makes progress. He gets past two players using things he has learnt from others in the side  . Though the victory is massive for him, the team thinks nothing of it. They go at him again and again until Papale is to tired to stand let alone battle off these monster sized men. Papale gets smashed in the next tackle, his helmet digs into the ground as he hits the turf. He lies there, exhausted. The team jog onto the next exercise casually as if nothing happened while Papalye fights to get enough oxygen into his lungs from being winded. Just as in life, nobody has time for his dreams he has shaped in his mind. The ideas and success he has carved through his 30 years of his life mean nothing, they simply leave him there...and jog on.

Papale gingerly plants his palms on the grass while his eyes, barely open, stare at the torn ground that his body has caused. His shoulder blades arch as his spine and back fall inwards. He pushes hard on the ground trying to lift his heavy body. His head hangs as he rises onto one knee, and then slowly the other. The camera swivels around him as the setting sun casts a silhouette on his tired body. The music releases you into deep thought as an audience can barely help feeling for his obstacles he attempts to overcome. On the grand stand sit about 50 people. 

Now the team is gone, left him their in his dirt, as he grapples to get up, get going and catch up with them. The sounds of clapping come from those who sit on the stand as they cheer him on. Their local bartender hero is showing guys against great players and even if he fails to make the team, he has offered them a small insight into the life of possibilities.  

Papale rises to his feet in the setting sun and breathes deeply for a second and starts to move his feet. His running looks as if he is tripping over his feet with every step. 

Are you behind today? Have you been bullied? Are you going nowhere? We can learn lessons from Papale. Stay humble, work hard, never think you are anything and always learn. Keep moving forward, take the hits, don't sidestep them. The path of least resistance is never an option! Very often the world makes "dreams" sound like a happy fair tale path to follow. It's not! That is the biggest bullshit I have ever heard! Instead of dreams think purpose, instead of happiness thing toughness! What is your purpose? What is your reason for getting to breath oxygen each day. What will history books say about your character? What do you need to show the world through your life. It's not easy and definitely not "happy" 

Get on your feet today! The sun hasn't set yet! 

Keegan "kunjani" Longueira

Final book launch runs smoothly

What a day! Book Launch in Witbank, then off to a talk and book signing at the Methodist church in Boksburg.


The day started in absolute chaos as I awoken quickly only to look at my watch and realize I had 20 minutes to shower, eat and prepare my things for my book launch that was to be held at the mall. The frantic start to my day was unsettling but once arriving with my books at the coffee shop, I knew that nothing mattered but the book and welcoming guests that came to see me.

I could sit and complain for days on end about the people that didn't come round to support me for the final Official launch but do they matter? Yes it hurts when friends don't show up in support of something you have worked so hard on for three years but in the end of the day it shouldn't matter. Today was definitely like that. Having many young children from school and some good friends coming round to purchase their copy of my new book was so special to me.

I just love handing over that memoir, that collection of words from three years of memories and experiences on my bicycle. Its more than just a book, its my life.

After a pretty good turn out, we packed up, thanked our hosts and shot off, Johannesburg bound, for our next event. The Methodist Church in Boksburg is the home congregation of one of my good Friends Chris Els. We met him at his house and then travelled with him to the church where we set up before the ladies arrived. It was a ladies fellowship event that seemed to happen quite often with the amount of intimacy shared between the ladies.

I was incredibly excited to be there and spoke genuinely from the heart about Operation Smile, my involvement and some of the lessons I had learned on my bicycle trips to Cape Town. I shared with them my plans to cycle from Cairo to Cape Town to which they seemed quite nervous, yet excited about.

I want to thank the congregation for the opportunity to speak to them as well everyone who came out and showed their support.

For those who want to get a copy of my book it is available here: Two Wheels and a Chain (BUY NOW)

DAY 4 Documentary episode live!

So we couldn't wait to monday, its just been such an incredible thing to sit and review all the memories from December.

Have a look at how day 4 went for the team on the road. The cycle was a non profit Operation Smile cycle project to raise money for kids with Cleft palates. Above that it was an incredible journey of three teens, confused and searching for meaning in their lives.

Its a must watch. Go and have a look an subscribe to the channel to get all the latest to. Go to the channel and subscribe to watch the full Day 4 clip.

Back on the bike

I think the fear of what's coming has held me back for a bit to long now. Something that I truly love, cycling, has taken a bit of a back seat during this whole planning for the Cape to Cairo expedition.

Not any more! Its the mere thing that got me out of this town when I was drawing in my own depression, addictions and frustration. Its the only thing that has never lied to me, always been there and given me hope when all else fades. So sitting back in my room pondering whether to get back into training today...it soon became a no brainer! Of course I would get out there today.

Although I know the pain that lies ahead. The feeling of absolute fatigue in both legs and lungs, theres a feeling of freedom and love we often forget about that accompanies these tough times.

Everything is at peace and well when I head out onto the dirt roads in the chilly morning air. I feel alive again and my smile returns, not on my face, but in my heart.

Had a nice slow 40 mins out on the mountain bike today. The journey begins!

Cairo to Cape Town taking shape

Starting as a dream in the pipeline,  the Cairo to Cape Town dream is really starting to take shape.

The trip will be a Guinness World Record Attempt at being the fastest man from Cairo to Cape Town on bicycle. Today we joined forces with David Grier and Miles for Smiles and will be continuing our partnership with Operation smile.

Go and check the awesome article done about us here: Miles For Smiles Article

Paige and I meeting with David for the first time in Witbank

Day 1: Cape Trek 2013

Thought I would share this with those who haven't seen the Day 1 of my Documentary

Filming a documentary

Filming a documentary was absolutely incredible! It had its challenges for sure but having two people join an experience of a life time with we was special.

Justin Seitz and Mat Beale joined me for the Cape Trek 2013 last year and were in a combo filming me practically the entire time. By the time we reached Cape Town we had about 500gb Of some entertaining footage.

The process begun after to sort through the info and just try and edit as much as possible and create a story that would be awesome for people to watch and to share in.

Its been a tough road but we have slowly started to release snippets of whats to come in the series!

Don't forget to subscribe to our youtube channel to get the latest films as they are released!

Do you need support to define you?

Riding home on a Sunday evening, I was listening to the radio. The music artist speaking on the radio was a South African DJ, talking about the lack of support in the music industry for locals.

I quote "I have been downloaded 100 000 times for my newest song, would I sell 100 000 songs if I had been added to iTunes?" the answer naturally, was no.

I want to ask my readers, everything you have done and hoped to achieve, did you seek support from others? If so how?

For example, The Cape Trek expedition and cycle projects aim to raise money for Operation Smile and Miles for Smile. The nature of the non profit trip requires quite a bit of backing from my sponsors in order to fund the trip. When I say fund I mean, food and other traveling expenses.  When I get home from trips, my work really starts. I try put together documentaries and write about my experiences and just recently that hard work made it possible for me to publish my first book: Two Wheels and a Chain. 

Now having said that, it must be incredible to become financially successful from this hard work but is that the goal? The reason I would be upset if my book hadn't sold as many copies as it had done so far would not be because I would not have made money but rather that I wouldn't have been able to touch people through the tales from my experiences on the road. I just feel that we need to chase passion and not the money, what do you guys think?

Plagued with injuries

I have been having a bit of an unfortunate spell of injuries from a sport that I haven't been involved with in years!

Usually my injuries have come from cycling related falls or sessions but at the beginning of this year I have started playing a bit of field hockey again with my local club. It has been incredible. I have really missed team sports but boy have the injuries been frustrating.

At the beginning of the season I broke my hand and ave now pulled some ligaments in my knee. Need to be out training more if I am going to push myself to the max on the field each week.

The planning for the Cape to Cairo or rather the Cairo to Cape Expedition has been going slowly but is picking up nicely. We have managed to get a couple of sponsors on board which has been great. Gives a real peace of mind to know there are people other than me believing in this project.

So the unknown lies ahead now and I am getting quite anxious sitting around in Witbank.