After a few weeks recovery time, I resumed my cycling work commute. I also did a long ride yesterday. I had a craving for butter tarts so decided to head to Oakville and a friend joined me. It's always so much nicer to have someone with you, especially if they go a the same pace. It was also nice to be able to share some memories of the bike rally.
I also tweaked my work commute, I now leave 10 min earlier and take my time. I keep the gear low but upped my cadence so still cover the same distance and my knees are feeling happier because I don't push like crazy all the time. And bonus, it takes me less time. Who knew?? There is something to be said about cadence, it took me a while to "geddit"...
When I was training for my running races, one thing that was instilled in me was "take the time to smell the roses". It's not the Olympics. Stop and take a photo, a break, eat something, hug someone or just marvel in what you're accomplished. Of course, when you cycle in a group, it's a heck of a lot easier to do this than when you're on your own.
It's been one of my biggest complaint about the bike rally. All throughout the training, it was all about "the bike rally family". You were having a bad ride, there was someone with you. You could post about bonking or issues or just to vent and there would be tons of people supporting you, giving you advice and telling you not to worry. The motto was we are looking for each other, we are protecting one another. However, as I sadly discovered during the rally, the family had other commitments, it was MIA. I felt abandoned. One thing I loved during the training rides were the riding coaches that were spotting the new riders and making contact with them. I didn't see one of them during the bike rally. Of course, me sporting a Y2 on my license plate was probably misleading and I really should have changed it when I got it replaced so people coming from behind me and seeing the year, unless they knew me, would assume that I was not a new rider therefore didn't need help. That's the only explanation I want to think about. The other one "people not caring too much" keeps popping up though... sad isn't it? And as for asking for help, I couldn't do it, everyone was so much in their bubble or hiding it.
So while I was stressing about the whole affair and basically breaking down the days into manageable chunks (to first break/second break/lunch/third break/camp repeat next day), I completely forgot to smell the roses, I completely forgot about stopping to take photos or a break. I completely forgot about enjoying it. And that is one of my biggest regret.
I plan on doing a cycling vacation next year and you can be sure that I WILL stop, smell the roses, take photos, take so many selfies, there will be more selfies on my phone than cat photos... meanwhile I will continue to hit the road and do as many long rides as I can until the weather forces me indoors.
This is my promise to myself I will never forget to smell the roses again.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Signed, Sealed and Delivered - Part Deux
Yesterday I finally got around to write the
post that was screaming to get out. And it was honestly brutal, at least from
my perspective. Anyone who will tell you the bike rally is easy is lying,
unless you have 2% body fat, are a speedy person with thousands of miles under
your cycling shorts, you will suffer. So it’s not all roses and rainbows. BUT,
there is a big one, it’s also a magical, amazing, fantastic, uplifting and
bloody marvelous experience. Something I think everyone who wants to experience
what they can do should do in their life. Seriously.
So while yesterday I gave my account
without artifice, today I want to talk about the fun stuff. The stuff that make
me smile when I think about it. There were lots every single day. I will
organize same way as yesterday, it’s better than having them all over the
place. I’m organized like that…
Departure day: The hugs. Oh the hugs, they
were lovely. The hugs from my friend Terry who came to see us off and gave me
little ginger covered in chocolate. They helped me a lot. The hug from one of
my spin instructor whom I hugged so tight! And his dog Rosie who was quietly
looking at all these people around. What a lovely girl she is. The selfies too!
I couldn’t stop smiling. I remember tearing up a few times at how supportive
the people along Danforth were. The coca cola. Drowning a can of that nectar
and feeling the caffeine coursing through my veins. That was nice. The gorgeous
scenery on our way to Port Hope. The hills. I love hills. I very often suck on
flat but I’m pretty darn good on hills. The sense of achievement at arriving at
camp and the sense of pride in saying “135, Sylvie Desroches”.
Day 2: The water on shoes to relieve
pressure, the ice cubes in bra and seeing the faces of the guys after seeing me
unzip my top and say “shove the ice in there!” lol The gorgeous scenery. The “hello”
from fellow cyclists when you cross them on the road. The funky costumes the
road safety crew was wearing to let us know to turn at a certain place. Yes we
had signs but having someone blowing HUGE bubbles make you smile no matter how
crappy you feel. The free ice cream you get from someone who opened their front
lawn for us to stop and have our lunch. The people serving us lunch. The
coolers full of lovely ice water, pop, juice so you can hit the road again
feeling somewhat refreshed. The second campsite which is so lovely with a
beautiful beach.
Day 3: Red Dress Day! The amazing
creativity some put into marking that day. The more outrageous the better! The
continuing gorgeous scenery on our way to Kingston. It truly is amazing. The
stranger who joined me and said “do you mind if I cycle with you a little bit?
I’m on my way home and could use some company”. The arrival at Queen’s University.
What a beautiful university it is. It is as close to university as I will ever
get in my life. Eat warm food, use the bathroom that is not a port-a-potty.
Finding my room, realizing I’m not sharing with anyone! Finding a Coffee Crisp
chocolate bar at my door. A power wash force type of shower. Visiting said
shower at least 3 times. Socializing with team mates, experiencing the summer camp
camaraderie. Walking back to my room in a quiet neighborhood, enjoying the
beautiful buildings. Sleeping in a bed I didn’t have to blow up, in a room I
didn’t have to set up.
Day 4: An embracing hug when I needed it.
Someone who allowed me to cry and feel miserable. Someone who accepted my
apology. Finally arriving at camp, setting up tent and going to the lake.
Chatting with a lady who has been a long time camper at the camp site and
finding out more about her and her life. Making a connection so to speak. It
was great. Getting asked by one of the rustler leader to be part of his team
for next year and of course accepting! Candlelight ceremony. So touching and
humbling to be included in this. I never had to go through what some went
through. I never had to face stigma (well, other than stuttering but that’s not
stigma, people laugh at you), always had it easy. As I looked around me and saw
people cry, hug each other in understanding, I almost felt ashamed in my
privileged upbringing as a heterosexual woman.
Day 5: Did I mention the fabulous scenery?
My goodness the scenery is to die for. I wanted to stop all the time and take a
photo. I would have had so many selfies! But I was too concentrating on my “schedule”.
The wonderful bike path along a highway. The bumps that made you go “weeee!!!”
like a little kid. The person who said “I want to ride with you”. The camaraderie
that came from a group of women. There is something to say about women power. I
don’t know if it’s because we’re supposed to be the “weaker sex” but bloody
hell, team up and you can move mountains! The money that was lent to me so I
could have ice cream. The lake, the water on the lower part of my body felt
amazing. My legs and ass were feeling soooooo much better. Bag balm and Vaseline.
Day 6: The realization that it’s almost
over. There is a certain excitement mixed with sadness about that day. I was
excited about that day because I was going to motherland. I was going to see
Quebec, Montreal and the surrounding area in a way that I didn’t get to
experience before. The Quebec sign. I didn’t get my photo taken with it so ce n’est
que partie remise. The cookie dough ice cream. Me saying “bonjour” with an
English accent! Translating to others when they didn’t understand what people
were saying to us. Getting to Canal Lachine. Setting on the ground thinking “OMG
I’m almost there!” Going up Berri,
turning the corner and not really see anything or anyone through my tears but
hearing the cheers. Tasting a beer, sitting alone and bursting into tears
because I was so tired and spent, I had no more control of my emotions. Talking
to others, taking it all in. We had done it, we had cycled over 600 kms from
Toronto to Montreal. WE. DID. IT!!!!
So this concludes the journey I set out 10 months ago when I signed on the dotted line. It has been incredible, uplifting, touching, exhilarating, sad, all these things that make it an unforgettable experience. I have been lucky, I didn’t get injured or hit. I have made some very good friends, I strengthened my relationship with myself. I don’t always love myself but when I think about this, I do. I will always recommend anyone who wants to experience it and come out a stronger person. In many ways, I was very lucky to do it. Where else will you have the opportunity to grow so much as a human being and have such fun doing it?
So this concludes the journey I set out 10 months ago when I signed on the dotted line. It has been incredible, uplifting, touching, exhilarating, sad, all these things that make it an unforgettable experience. I have been lucky, I didn’t get injured or hit. I have made some very good friends, I strengthened my relationship with myself. I don’t always love myself but when I think about this, I do. I will always recommend anyone who wants to experience it and come out a stronger person. In many ways, I was very lucky to do it. Where else will you have the opportunity to grow so much as a human being and have such fun doing it?
Monday, August 10, 2015
Signed, sealed and delivered
The bike rally came and went. 660 kms done over 6 days. I should feel elated right? Why am I not? What started as a fantastic journey, full of joy, energy and expectations transformed itself into a chore at the halfway mark and I never fully recovered. Is it that my expectations were too high? If you are so inclined, drag a chair and read my novel.
A little over 2 weeks ago, I found myself on the start line of the bike rally. I was excited, full of energy, tearing up at every moment. I saw people I had trained with and we were all on our way to an exciting adventure. I was pumped! I listened to the speeches and soon enough we were on our way. What was great was the policemen stopping traffic for us, people cheering us, wishing us a great ride, I kept saying thank you, thank you, thank you. It was magical. Made it to the first break, all was still good. The euphoria was still firmly with me. So was the heat/humidity. My feet swell in humidity and my toes were then in excruciating pain. What I didn't know was that this feeling wouldn't fully leave me for the entire week unless I dumped a bottle of water on each foot during the rally, something I could do for 2 1/2 days of the entire rally. The rest I couldn't.
I typically don't do well after lunch, or at least I didn't do well during training rides but now I know it was due to poor fueling. My performance was actually pretty darn good after the last break. I was warned to "pace myself" during that last section. I did and I was rewarded by not needing to walk any hill! Actually, I didn't walk any hill of the bike rally, something I'm quite proud of.
First night at camp. I get there and am totally disoriented as to where the group is. It's really cool that someone from our group get our bins and so forth but it's a little daunting not knowing where your group is. I finally find them. I set up my tent, get changed, grab stuff to go shower. It helps hat I've done it before as a volunteer, I know how things are done. Dinner, socializing with the group then it's lights out for me. There is a big day ahead of us.
Day 2 - we leave at 8:30, the heat is already on, it's going to be a scorcher. I have no idea about the heat advisory. We leave Port Hope and set off for the longest day of the rally, 128kms. I break the day into chunks. To break #1, to break #2, to lunch, to break #3, to Picton, to ferry, then to camp. Every time there is a break or a van that has ice/water, I get my feet drowned in water, ice in my bra and I start off again. That helps. At this point, I'm with people but mostly on my own. I'm still running on endorphins so my happy level is high. Every time I stop for water I dunk my head scarf in water, I stuff my bra with ice, I put water on my shoes. It's really helping.
I finally make it to Picton. Oh. That. Hill... it's a hill and a half. It's great that I recognize the place because this is where the Prince Edward County Marathon ended. Every time I do a hill, I dedicate it to someone. So one for my mother, my brother, my cats, the people who can't ride or run. The cute stranger I saw on the road. Anything to take your mind away from yet another hill. I love hills, I truly do. But sometimes there are just too many!
I finally arrive at the ferry. There is an unofficial stop at LCBO but I don't need anything so I don't stop. We have to wait about 45 minutes for a ferry, it's kinda fun because we're a large group and I can chat with a few people. Eventually we get on the ferry. We are the attraction, people are taking our photos! A couple of kilometres and we're finally at camp. We yell our plate number and name and get to the truck to drop off our bikes.
The same scenario happens again, locate bins, set up tent, change, go to lake, get food. Another team member had wine delivered to the campsite. Lovely Ontario wine but I make the mistake of starting on the white wine on an empty stomach. I stop in time. This is not the place to drink too much. Again an early night for me. I need to recover.
Day 3: Red Dress Day! I am wearing a lovely red dress that was lent to me by a friend, I have my pearls to complete the outfit. It's hot but it's only 55 kms and we can do it! We wave off the Rustlers who have to hurry to the Queen's University and offload our stuff so we can get to it when we arrive. And we're off. Again it's hot and humid. I'm vain that day so I ditched the arm coolers. Hindsight I should have kept them, they would have looked like opera gloves :)
At the halfway mark I started to experience a bit of frustration. I kept wanting to pee (was wearing shorts whereas I previously always wore bib shorts, way more comfortable), I was hot, I was getting tired and struggling. The endorphins were wearing off... so was the tolerance level of my ass. I kept standing up to relieve the pressure. Made it to break, used the bathroom, drowned a can of coke and was on my way again. Made it to Kingston feeling good if not a bit sore. Tried to get a massage, no go. Ate, made it to my room, did perfunctory laundry in the sink and rested for a while. Then off to dinner. Ate way too much then slowly walked back to the University. Kingston is a really lovely city.
Day 4: After a good night sleep, I'm ready to face the day. The heat is not letting off, it's almost unbearable. We set off around 9:30 ish... we're in for over 110kms. Little did I know that it would be the start of the proverbial "wheels falling off". Exiting Kingston was great, people were cheering us on, I was feeling good and then it started to hit me. I was getting tired. I was getting cranky, I wasn't enjoying this. Everyone around me was joking around, having a good time, talking to one another. I was on my own. Some were saying a cheery "good morning!" as they zipped by me or some were asking me "how are you?" only to be far away when I'd muster the energy to say "I'm well thanks". I even got rude to someone and felt so bad! I found him at the break and apologized.
The sun was relentless. Beating on us, there was no shade. There was also no water as I discovered... my feet were again in excruciating pain and I had no way to relieve it. I was in tears most of the time. I was frustrated. All I wanted was to get to the next point and be done with it. I stopped a few times when there was a van but after a while, after being told "sorry, no ice or water" I just continued on. Made it to the break feeling absolutely dejected, ready to throw in the towel. I have never felt so alone in my life. Thankfully some took pity on me and invited me to join them. Then I set off again on my own. Finally made it to camp feeling drained, completely and utterly drained. I found my group and saw some of the fast ones sitting comfortably in their chair, looking like they had just gone for a stroll and asked me "how was your ride?" I didn't trust myself to answer them. We were supposed to serve dinner that night and I helped a bit but I so needed food and I had to force myself to eat. Early night again for me.
Day 5: After taking down camp, I look at the sky and think "I won't need my sunglasses" so packed them in my bin (this would end up haunting me later on). We set off in the gentle rain. It gets worse but I'm ok with it, I just go slower. I sort of ride with a few people, well me following them quietly. We come to an intersection and a car didn't see us, or didn't want to see us, and almost hit my back wheel. I started to shake. We had to stop as a group stopped and it grew to become an "unofficial" stop. Eventually we were back on the road. And I was again on my own after a bunch of riders passed me... and again the dark feelings took hold of my brain. It's hard to find the positive when your ass is screaming murder from the saddle sores or your feet swell so much every pedal stroke is painful with a burning sensation. I finally made it to lunch, went to the bathroom and started to cry. I had enough. I was miserable, I was on my own, nobody cared on iota about how I felt. I had busted my ass for 10 months raising this money for a cause that has never affected me directly, nobody forced me to do it and I was on my own. This is what not fueling enough will do to you people... it will put these dark thoughts in your brain.
I finally made it to the line to get the food and realized that I had no money for the treat at the end of the day, Dairy Queen. Again, tears were swelling in my eyes. A friend saw me and offered me money. Just like that. I was so touched. I got some food, ate well, drank lots, made my way to the medical tent to get meds for my butt, went to the bathroom to apply the meds and I was off again.
Then the magic happened. Someone who helped me a lot during the training rides was leaving with her group at the same time and she was always full of beans and positive energy. She was joking with them and probably noticed how quiet I was. She then slowed down and got in front of me. I asked her if she was all right and she said "Yes, I am. I want to ride with you." I asked "why?, why do you want to ride with me?" and she said simply "because I want to". These 4 words were the turning point of the rally for me. Someone wanted to ride with me. And we did, she integrated me with the group of women and we had a great time. She even lent me her sunglasses in the afternoon. And one woman gave me some of her chamois butter as she told me what I was using was not enough. And she was right. Before a break we stopped at a small water park and had fun running around the water jets. We felt like little kids! We then stopped at the break for a freezie. Freezies! Loved them! And eventually, after a long, long, long ride we finally made it to Dairy Queen and I treated myself to a wonderful sundae. It tasted so good! The place was full of riders, it was so much fun.
We eventually made it to camp, our last night together as a bike rally. I set up camp, changed, made my way to the beach so I could park my sore butt in cold water. It felt like heaven.
Day 6: Our last day. Our last push. I made arrangements with the group to ride with them again. I didn't want to be on my own. I couldn't be on my own, it was too hard. The person I was with was nice to talk to, it was great to exchange stories. We decided to skip lunch and have ice cream instead. The areas in Quebec that we went through were beautiful, I had no idea... it truly gives you a new appreciation of just how beautiful our provinces are. Eventually we make our way to Canal Lachine where we have to wait for everyone to arrive then we depart again single file. All goes relatively well until someone abruptly stops in front of me and I fall off my bike. Grrrr.... my seat get crooked, I don't want to waste time fixing it. I eventually can do it as we get to Old Montreal and have to wait again for all to gather. Soon, too soon I find myself turning the corner and realize that I am at the end of my journey. Those 200 metres from Berri to the park are magical, the screams, the encouragement, everything gives you shivers. All those kilometres, the pain, the tears, the soreness, the crankiness is part of my special journey. I arrive, park my bike, and start crying. It was like I had been keeping it all inside myself and at the end allowed all the repressed emotions to bubble to the surface.
And a couple of days later I find myself numb, no emotions, just so tired and not feeling the love again. I've been told it's normal.
So there you have it, bike rally signed, sealed and delivered. In retrospect, there are many things I would have done differently. I would have hydrated more, I would have fuelled more. I would have TAKEN MY TIME. Instead of rushing and allow myself to be on such a schedule, I would have taken breaks, stopped in the shade, or simply asked others if I could ride with them. I didn't do any of that. I was too focused on getting from point A to point B. And that's why my bike rally started with a bang only to peter halfway through and not only get better until 1 1/2 day before the end.
People tell me I've accomplished something HUGE and part of me says "yes, I did!" but another part feels absolutely nothing about it. I know that one day I'll regain my enthusiasm and I'll be able to have my shiny eyes when I talk about it. Right now, I'm still numb. But I have a score to settle with the bike rally... and this will be done in 2018, the year I turn 60. IF I'm healthy and can cycle, I will do it.
Thank you for reading.
A little over 2 weeks ago, I found myself on the start line of the bike rally. I was excited, full of energy, tearing up at every moment. I saw people I had trained with and we were all on our way to an exciting adventure. I was pumped! I listened to the speeches and soon enough we were on our way. What was great was the policemen stopping traffic for us, people cheering us, wishing us a great ride, I kept saying thank you, thank you, thank you. It was magical. Made it to the first break, all was still good. The euphoria was still firmly with me. So was the heat/humidity. My feet swell in humidity and my toes were then in excruciating pain. What I didn't know was that this feeling wouldn't fully leave me for the entire week unless I dumped a bottle of water on each foot during the rally, something I could do for 2 1/2 days of the entire rally. The rest I couldn't.
I typically don't do well after lunch, or at least I didn't do well during training rides but now I know it was due to poor fueling. My performance was actually pretty darn good after the last break. I was warned to "pace myself" during that last section. I did and I was rewarded by not needing to walk any hill! Actually, I didn't walk any hill of the bike rally, something I'm quite proud of.
First night at camp. I get there and am totally disoriented as to where the group is. It's really cool that someone from our group get our bins and so forth but it's a little daunting not knowing where your group is. I finally find them. I set up my tent, get changed, grab stuff to go shower. It helps hat I've done it before as a volunteer, I know how things are done. Dinner, socializing with the group then it's lights out for me. There is a big day ahead of us.
Day 2 - we leave at 8:30, the heat is already on, it's going to be a scorcher. I have no idea about the heat advisory. We leave Port Hope and set off for the longest day of the rally, 128kms. I break the day into chunks. To break #1, to break #2, to lunch, to break #3, to Picton, to ferry, then to camp. Every time there is a break or a van that has ice/water, I get my feet drowned in water, ice in my bra and I start off again. That helps. At this point, I'm with people but mostly on my own. I'm still running on endorphins so my happy level is high. Every time I stop for water I dunk my head scarf in water, I stuff my bra with ice, I put water on my shoes. It's really helping.
I finally make it to Picton. Oh. That. Hill... it's a hill and a half. It's great that I recognize the place because this is where the Prince Edward County Marathon ended. Every time I do a hill, I dedicate it to someone. So one for my mother, my brother, my cats, the people who can't ride or run. The cute stranger I saw on the road. Anything to take your mind away from yet another hill. I love hills, I truly do. But sometimes there are just too many!
I finally arrive at the ferry. There is an unofficial stop at LCBO but I don't need anything so I don't stop. We have to wait about 45 minutes for a ferry, it's kinda fun because we're a large group and I can chat with a few people. Eventually we get on the ferry. We are the attraction, people are taking our photos! A couple of kilometres and we're finally at camp. We yell our plate number and name and get to the truck to drop off our bikes.
The same scenario happens again, locate bins, set up tent, change, go to lake, get food. Another team member had wine delivered to the campsite. Lovely Ontario wine but I make the mistake of starting on the white wine on an empty stomach. I stop in time. This is not the place to drink too much. Again an early night for me. I need to recover.
Day 3: Red Dress Day! I am wearing a lovely red dress that was lent to me by a friend, I have my pearls to complete the outfit. It's hot but it's only 55 kms and we can do it! We wave off the Rustlers who have to hurry to the Queen's University and offload our stuff so we can get to it when we arrive. And we're off. Again it's hot and humid. I'm vain that day so I ditched the arm coolers. Hindsight I should have kept them, they would have looked like opera gloves :)
At the halfway mark I started to experience a bit of frustration. I kept wanting to pee (was wearing shorts whereas I previously always wore bib shorts, way more comfortable), I was hot, I was getting tired and struggling. The endorphins were wearing off... so was the tolerance level of my ass. I kept standing up to relieve the pressure. Made it to break, used the bathroom, drowned a can of coke and was on my way again. Made it to Kingston feeling good if not a bit sore. Tried to get a massage, no go. Ate, made it to my room, did perfunctory laundry in the sink and rested for a while. Then off to dinner. Ate way too much then slowly walked back to the University. Kingston is a really lovely city.
Day 4: After a good night sleep, I'm ready to face the day. The heat is not letting off, it's almost unbearable. We set off around 9:30 ish... we're in for over 110kms. Little did I know that it would be the start of the proverbial "wheels falling off". Exiting Kingston was great, people were cheering us on, I was feeling good and then it started to hit me. I was getting tired. I was getting cranky, I wasn't enjoying this. Everyone around me was joking around, having a good time, talking to one another. I was on my own. Some were saying a cheery "good morning!" as they zipped by me or some were asking me "how are you?" only to be far away when I'd muster the energy to say "I'm well thanks". I even got rude to someone and felt so bad! I found him at the break and apologized.
The sun was relentless. Beating on us, there was no shade. There was also no water as I discovered... my feet were again in excruciating pain and I had no way to relieve it. I was in tears most of the time. I was frustrated. All I wanted was to get to the next point and be done with it. I stopped a few times when there was a van but after a while, after being told "sorry, no ice or water" I just continued on. Made it to the break feeling absolutely dejected, ready to throw in the towel. I have never felt so alone in my life. Thankfully some took pity on me and invited me to join them. Then I set off again on my own. Finally made it to camp feeling drained, completely and utterly drained. I found my group and saw some of the fast ones sitting comfortably in their chair, looking like they had just gone for a stroll and asked me "how was your ride?" I didn't trust myself to answer them. We were supposed to serve dinner that night and I helped a bit but I so needed food and I had to force myself to eat. Early night again for me.
Day 5: After taking down camp, I look at the sky and think "I won't need my sunglasses" so packed them in my bin (this would end up haunting me later on). We set off in the gentle rain. It gets worse but I'm ok with it, I just go slower. I sort of ride with a few people, well me following them quietly. We come to an intersection and a car didn't see us, or didn't want to see us, and almost hit my back wheel. I started to shake. We had to stop as a group stopped and it grew to become an "unofficial" stop. Eventually we were back on the road. And I was again on my own after a bunch of riders passed me... and again the dark feelings took hold of my brain. It's hard to find the positive when your ass is screaming murder from the saddle sores or your feet swell so much every pedal stroke is painful with a burning sensation. I finally made it to lunch, went to the bathroom and started to cry. I had enough. I was miserable, I was on my own, nobody cared on iota about how I felt. I had busted my ass for 10 months raising this money for a cause that has never affected me directly, nobody forced me to do it and I was on my own. This is what not fueling enough will do to you people... it will put these dark thoughts in your brain.
I finally made it to the line to get the food and realized that I had no money for the treat at the end of the day, Dairy Queen. Again, tears were swelling in my eyes. A friend saw me and offered me money. Just like that. I was so touched. I got some food, ate well, drank lots, made my way to the medical tent to get meds for my butt, went to the bathroom to apply the meds and I was off again.
Then the magic happened. Someone who helped me a lot during the training rides was leaving with her group at the same time and she was always full of beans and positive energy. She was joking with them and probably noticed how quiet I was. She then slowed down and got in front of me. I asked her if she was all right and she said "Yes, I am. I want to ride with you." I asked "why?, why do you want to ride with me?" and she said simply "because I want to". These 4 words were the turning point of the rally for me. Someone wanted to ride with me. And we did, she integrated me with the group of women and we had a great time. She even lent me her sunglasses in the afternoon. And one woman gave me some of her chamois butter as she told me what I was using was not enough. And she was right. Before a break we stopped at a small water park and had fun running around the water jets. We felt like little kids! We then stopped at the break for a freezie. Freezies! Loved them! And eventually, after a long, long, long ride we finally made it to Dairy Queen and I treated myself to a wonderful sundae. It tasted so good! The place was full of riders, it was so much fun.
We eventually made it to camp, our last night together as a bike rally. I set up camp, changed, made my way to the beach so I could park my sore butt in cold water. It felt like heaven.
Day 6: Our last day. Our last push. I made arrangements with the group to ride with them again. I didn't want to be on my own. I couldn't be on my own, it was too hard. The person I was with was nice to talk to, it was great to exchange stories. We decided to skip lunch and have ice cream instead. The areas in Quebec that we went through were beautiful, I had no idea... it truly gives you a new appreciation of just how beautiful our provinces are. Eventually we make our way to Canal Lachine where we have to wait for everyone to arrive then we depart again single file. All goes relatively well until someone abruptly stops in front of me and I fall off my bike. Grrrr.... my seat get crooked, I don't want to waste time fixing it. I eventually can do it as we get to Old Montreal and have to wait again for all to gather. Soon, too soon I find myself turning the corner and realize that I am at the end of my journey. Those 200 metres from Berri to the park are magical, the screams, the encouragement, everything gives you shivers. All those kilometres, the pain, the tears, the soreness, the crankiness is part of my special journey. I arrive, park my bike, and start crying. It was like I had been keeping it all inside myself and at the end allowed all the repressed emotions to bubble to the surface.
And a couple of days later I find myself numb, no emotions, just so tired and not feeling the love again. I've been told it's normal.
So there you have it, bike rally signed, sealed and delivered. In retrospect, there are many things I would have done differently. I would have hydrated more, I would have fuelled more. I would have TAKEN MY TIME. Instead of rushing and allow myself to be on such a schedule, I would have taken breaks, stopped in the shade, or simply asked others if I could ride with them. I didn't do any of that. I was too focused on getting from point A to point B. And that's why my bike rally started with a bang only to peter halfway through and not only get better until 1 1/2 day before the end.
People tell me I've accomplished something HUGE and part of me says "yes, I did!" but another part feels absolutely nothing about it. I know that one day I'll regain my enthusiasm and I'll be able to have my shiny eyes when I talk about it. Right now, I'm still numb. But I have a score to settle with the bike rally... and this will be done in 2018, the year I turn 60. IF I'm healthy and can cycle, I will do it.
Thank you for reading.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)