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.