No Sex in this Grind

“Did you go up that ugly little hill?” he asks.

“Yes I did,” I replied.

Then silence.

Some pondering.

Both of us tuned into the time. Waiting for a bus.

“One will come eventually,” he claims as my fingers scroll over the schedule wrapping the metal post.

When I think of grinding, Kick Ass comes to mind. 

Coffee that is.

Since it was a day off from the office, I put myself up for the challenge.

The stopwatch was reset. Once past the gates I was off.

Within minutes my heart rate was elevated. My mind said steady.
Everything worked.

I plunged onwards and upwards.

Happy when I caught someone I could pass.

Disappointed when I heard someone behind me.

Soon enough I’d hesitate so he or she could go beyond.

When I saw the half way mark I glanced to my watch. Twenty something minutes.

Pain is temporary, quitting lasts forever scrolled through the eyelids in the back of my head. My mind was already made up.

No stopping till the top.

The Grouse Grind record time for the men is 25:01, while for the women it's 31:04. 
Yes minutes.

According to the guide I met waiting for the bus afterwards, if you’re in shape it should take you 45.

I got in under an hour. But not in the 40’s.

Still, I figured I was doing good. Until “Joey” and his tag along came yapping up behind me.

It was steep. Their conversation didn’t stop. 

How is it this guy can keep yapping while climbing?
My lungs were gutted. I was heave hoe and all I could do to go.

Grunting came near the top.

I was so pissed when a woman older then me sped by.

Four letter words uttered in my quiet voice.

By this time my arms were pushing off of my thighs. Then rower woman came up beside me. Tuned into whatever she was listening to and hunched over like the oars were in the water ready for the catch.

I tried her technique for a while but preferred to huff and puff while occasionally resting my hands on my waist.

Rather the muffin tops. Twenty pounds less and I’d bet I could chop off ten more minutes.

Ironically I’d chosen this as another gateway to cycling cross-training.

During the RBC GranFondo Whistler a fellow sure to be in his 70’s came to the Official Merchandise Store where I was working and claimed that three or more Grouse Grinds a week were all you needed to be in shape for the ride from Vancouver to Whistler.

I was getting nearer the top. My lungs were bust. My heart was sore. I refused to let myself stop.

“Every step and strain you take today is an investment in tomorrow morning’s strength,” I kept saying to myself.

Over and over again.

If they can do it so can I.

Then when my bonking started I saw someone else’s puke.

There was no more hesitation now.

I am not weak. I am strong!

Very soon after I was up.

And so done.

I moaned. I grunted. I huffed and I puffed.

It wasn’t sex.

It was the Grouse Grind.

The Road Unknown

Not very often I consider the out and backs for a road ride.

Given I’m a woman of dimension. Not at all interested in doing the same thing twice.

Dreadfully dull I say.

Boring.

But when I set out on Saturday to Squamish in the blistering heat of the day I gave in to the bend.

I figured I would try the return trip too.

After a day of hiking.

I reckoned the view is likely to change.

Given it’s the Sea to Sky highway.

Lots of people have done it. By bike. Vancouver all the way to Whistler. 
7,000 last year in the RBC GranFondo Whistler.

I wanted to experience why.

Injury prevented me in 2011.

These days I have the pleasure of working for GranFondo Canada. So I knew the highway shoulders had been swept well from winter.

Gravel bits and glass cleared for the rubber to the road.

As I set out from North Vancouver the eyes stayed on the highway. The Upper Levels highway.

A yes to gravel, rocks, glass, garbage and the like.

But once past Taylor Way the fun began.

The shoulder was clean!

I was melting. It was 12:15pm when I got rolling. No choice for the time due to earlier commitments.

My journey to Britannia Beach was truly epic. 
Except for the big buses and cars zooming by.

Breathtaking majestic views. Clear clean blue skies. A wonderful cross-breeze when needed.

The outlines to the ocean and the mountains took my breath away.
Sure I’d driven it.
But riding it you see so much more.

I had a great visit with my pal, Tamsin and her family. We hiked the four lakes in Squamish, cooked and baked and ate.

This morning I did the smart thing.

I got rolling at 7am for the return trip home.

Yes, it was epic.

Yes, it was beautiful.

And yes, the viewpoints looked different.

I didn’t look back.

The ride on the shoulder wasn’t as clean. The drainage grates were deep.

What I could see and feel truly took my breath away.

As cars sped by I thought how much they must miss.

Going my speed I get to see it all.

This being, my first ride - on the road unknown.

Don't Sit Down!

After the trucks were loaded and ready to go.
We were done, done!

Tim Horton’s doesn’t serve breakfast sandwiches at 3:30am in the morning. 
It’s donuts, muffins or bagels only.
And coffee.

Many started at 2am. Laying out barricades and cones on the course. Signage as well. 
That team started even earlier.

Assembling the logistics for more then 1,000 cyclists rolling over 100km in one day took months of planning, and a lot of human power.

Before we knew it. It was go time.
We’re a different breed of folk. Proactive in our approach to life. 
We do before told. We see what is needed.

Don’t need to be asked.

Used to lifting, sweating, going without food and water for hours. Even time to pee.
We stand on our feet all day. In all kinds of weather.

The adrenalin rush of the day keeps us going.

We're an Event Team.

Not one single person slacked. It was all hands on deck.

At all times.
No worries. 
Our backs are covered.
By each other.

Hours after the last rider had crossed the finish line we gathered in the Events Communications Centre (ECC) for a quick meet-up before loading up the four big tonnage trucks with all that was needed to activate the day and make it shine. 

“Don’t sit down,” Doug kept saying as he paced in circles doing whatever. 

Whatever is right. I had my feet rested above my head.

You can never underestimate the comfort of shoes for event day.
Feet swell.
“I iced my feet twice today,” Stephan pipes in.
In the ECC there weren't enough glasses left for water. The ice had melted. Food was scarce. 
No matter. We weren't done yet.

I rumbled back to the action earlier in the day. Seeing the sweaty, smiling faces walking around with their Finisher Medals and RBC GranFondo Kelowna merchandise.

We grew a community. 
Local volunteers stepped up to help out. To engage. 
Our MC announcer chimed in on it nicely.
"The day is meant to challenge you," he said.
Then he so eloquently summed it up for the rider's especially.
"Tired of being an observer in life, be a participant.”
I then woke up from my daze as we all got up and shuffled outside to finish loading the trucks.

East and West

Sunglasses are mandatory.

These days.

My new cycling commute is sweet.

I ride towards the sun in the morning and into the sunset in the evening.
The blocks of climbs on the final stretches steer me to the mountains and the trees. 
I am grateful for the beauty all around me.

The commute to work is down to 45 minutes. Like those in a car. I drink coffee along the way.

At stop lights.

I divide the ride into three sections.

The Esplanade roll into the sunrise. The Second Narrows grunt. And finally the residential bliss bicycle route.

Directional signage helped me find my way. Thanks to the Bike HUB (aka Vancouver Area Cycling Coalition) for dialing it all in.

Usually I’m hungry homeward bound. Often I smell barbeques, garlic and other wonderful dinner creations.

Has my mouth watering and my belly barking.

Each day I notice something different.

A community garden, a boulevard artistic creation, a neighbourhood book exchange and many innovative traffic calming circles.

North and south and east and west.

Frogs, Hills & Wind

Never in my life have I ridden 160km in one day.

The next day was supposed to be the same. The course director made it 150km.

I was OK with that.

The rain was relentless on day one.

Tears blended into the dampness on my cheeks as I rode under the start gantry. I thought about all who I have lost, and those that are in the fight for their lives.

The day had finally come. What I was riding for.

Part of raising $11.2 million for the BC Cancer Foundation. Research for a cure.

By the time we got through the border and the route split came, I was riding solo. Most of the 3,000 plus riders opted for the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer Classic route. A cool 120km a day versus the hilly and longer Challenge route. My choice.

At least I was warm. Icebreaker socks. Two breathable shells and shorts.

The time set in. I pedalled on. At one point the mesh of rain in the marshes had me delirious. Glasses were unforgiving. Stowed in the back pocket.

I came upon something. Readying to swerve my eyes caught a glimpse and I made a shout out with glee.

“You’re the biggest dang frog I have ever seen!”

Back legs perched in the puddle. I thought he a water bottle!

There were hills and head winds. Rough roads with no shoulders. Cow farms for dairy. Donkeys alone. Beautiful fillies and their mothers.

Spectator cheering points dwindled as the roads stretched further. Soon deep rainforests and puddles that grew wider.

Thankfully we had pit stops and signage markers galore. Whenever a doubt of my route crossed my mind, I’d look and see more.

Day one I was strong.

Camp was damp and later muddy. The hot showers were great.

Food was a plenty. I’d heard last year they’d run out.

Everyone was happy. Hard work had been the day.

I was tired for lack of sleep from the night before.

After dinner I lay down. Soaked from the weather. Feet muddy from the terrain.

The nap was short. A porta-potty visit got me up.

It was then I found the yoga tent. And afterwards the reason why I committed to being here.

Therese had the RV gussied up with Team Nanaimo. Funds raised over three years. In the thousands. Again my tears flowed.

Her brother stood at the door. I introduced myself and walked in.

The last time I’d visited the three of us had spoken about Cancer.

Roger with throat cancer. He talked through a machine. With the belief that the cure is around the corner.

Thanks to the BC Cancer Foundation and the clinical trials he was involved with, he got through eight more years of living.

Sadly, the Universe took Roger back November 10, 2011.

What he left behind was hope.

Later I slept. Awake while the trains rambled by.

Sometime in the darkness, the rain stopped. 

Day two was drier. My legs felt great to start.

Until the first 20km mark. The Niagara Falls knee flared up.

An ill-fitted bike, a ride on a whim – Toronto to Niagara Falls had started this weakness some 20 years ago.

Each pit stop had ice. I’d zip-lock a bunch into my tensor.

The last 30km had me pedaling from the Pain Cave.

I was cooked. Rather, my Niagara Falls knee was.

Didn’t bother Rosea, my red DeVinci Silverstone II road bike.

With only one flat to brag about. My own fault.

In the morning at Obsession Bikes, the mechanical support crew had spoken.

While pumping up another lady’s tire I’d mentioned the “F” word.

“Surprised you didn’t get a flat with your tire that low.”
Oops. That cursed me for the day.

It wasn’t until the 233km mark. To be honest I had only just thought, “Wouldn't it be nice if I had an excuse to stop and rest.”

No sooner did I think it then I got the bumpity bump.

When I proceeded to inspect the rubber was worse. The split in the tire was oozing through with frizz from the tube.

Thankfully the sweepers were nearby. GPS’ed my exact stop and promised to take me back once I got everything dialed.

Logged an extra 1.5 hours onto my day.

By then I was feeling worse.

Didn’t want to be Lanterne Rouge.

There was still 80km to go.

Epic impact. Epic ride rolled through my head.

I thought again about yesterday.

The tall yellow flags on bicycles indicate a survivor.
It was near the end I approached a man from behind.

“Only six kilometres left,” I said to reach out for conversation.

The face that looked back was as old as my son. No more then 20 years.

As I pedalled on again I felt the tears stream by.

The man doing the full pull for his partner. She wearing the flag.

The boy with the trailer.

Fighters. Cancer survivors.

My Pain Cave grew worse. The idea of riding across the nation washed away.

But then the split to re-group with the Classics to the finish.

My odometer said ten more, and suddenly we were there.

I came. I saw. I rode. I fundraised.

It was a pleasure to do all of that.

The 2013 registration is already open.

I’m not planning on doing it again next year.

Maybe you will. By riding, or volunteering, or by supporting someone who is.

Epic ride. Epic impact.

Really. 
You get both.


Thank you to everyone who donated to my ride!

Ready to RIDE!

Thank you to all who have donated to my Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer (go ahead and donate if you haven't and want to!). 

I am amped and ready to roll!!!

My bicycle's chain is greased and my tires are pumped (my rubber is a little scarred so could you ask the Universe to save the flats for when I get home!).

By the way, my bike's name is Rosea. She's a red DeVinci Silverstone II. I've asked her to keep me safe for the weekend, to which she has already complied!

Big shout out to Hillary for volunteering to pick me up tomorrow at 4:45am!!! and drive me to the start! What a trooper. I am SO GRATEFUL!! Yes it's Vancouver to Seattle, starting in Surrey!

I am riding the Challenge Course which is 160km a day!

My phone will be shut off for the entire weekend and I won't have my computer - will post to my blog when I'm back.

We know about the rain. I'm packing Hot Shots (thanks Hora Li and a happy smiling face. At least the temperatures will be warm.

Be nice to roll around somewhere I've never been.
With all of you, your friends, your family and all of the loved ones who we have lost or have been touched by Cancer - you are all in my heart and with me every single pedal stroke of the way.

Thank you for supporting this effort.
Smiles and hugs!
rollin' on... and on! and ...on!
Jane

Rolling Naked

Hood ornaments are for cars. Helmets are for cyclists.

I forgot mine this morning. 

Which was a shock. Given it’s an everyday fashion item. Grocery shopping even.

Funny it was not. 

Especially since I’d spent the previous day prompting casual suggestions to the teenage blondies who weren’t wearing theirs.

Problem was, I’d already rowed away from the boat. Time was tight to get to work. So I decided to take the chance. To be careful.

Fortunately my comfort was in a conversation I’d had some years ago with a couple who were cycling around the world. They too were rolling naked.

Helmetless that is.

When I asked them where their helmets were they replied, “At home.”
“Where’s home?” I asked.

“Amsterdam,” they replied.

No helmet laws there. It’s by choice.

Given I’d had my own mishap just over a year ago, I cycled cautiously.

“Not going down!” I repeatedly muttered to myself.

Guess it was the hair. I’d had a good wash and wanted to hit the follicles with the flattener before work. Gus up a bit for the day.

It was a really weird feeling riding without my helmet.

Thankfully I got through the day.

Rolling naked.
But I won't do that again!

Doe Ditty Dumb

Not sure where it came from. The title that is. It just popped into my head.

Been missing writing my blog posts. Too much life expectancies getting in the way. Some things take over. Mash up all the rest.

The big weekend is coming up. The moments I’ve been training so hard for.

I’m ready. Made the quota on the minimums. Grateful for my mama for reaching out to her circles.

The legs feel good. Here’s hoping the rancid chest cold leaves me before Friday.

There can be a flop when you stretch yourself hard towards one goal. Questionable intentions. Got me to wrangling three in one month.

Yes, June is busy. The Victoria Goddess Half-Marathon run to start things off. Coming up to the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer, followed by the 140km Tour de Victoria.

As the DH’ers in my life (Downhill Mountain Bikers) would say. I’m dialed!

Knowing what all of this has done for me is the lift. Weight loss, fitness, focus. Time for training. Then some more.

Tonight I’m on the steel commuter rolling home. The smell is in the air. Trying to act like spring. The drizzle softens the haze of the worshipped green all around.

Who would of thought I’d of spent all this time outside come rain or come shine?

As the droplets christen the sea the dimples of the moon or the sun warp the surface as each oar rows me home.

My journey is peaceful. The sound of an oar-lock rocking to the catch of the water.

At least it’s not cold like December. There were a lot of wet, long and cold training rides. Many damp and frosty runs. 

The time was worth it. 

Ready or not, here we come!

The forecast for the weekend is for rain. Warm temperatures filled with lots of spring rain.

No matter.

It will be a doe ditty dumb.

Whatever that means.

YES I Can!

Thank you to everyone who has already donated to my Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer. I’ve received emails from folks saying they want to donate. I’m at 77% of my goal!

The event is June 16 & 17^th so not much time left.

I urge you to click on the top left link of this blog to donate or click here and thank you SO much for rolling with me!

I appreciate all of you!!

The body does what the mind says.

For the most part.

But if you’re an endurance athlete, as the old saying goes, Mind over Matter – can take on a whole new meaning.

Over the last three weeks I watched with prowess and excitement our Canadian Pro Cyclist, Ryder Hesjedal’s daily achievements in the Giro d’Italia.

On the weekend, I took to the live feeds, even in Italian. What I witnessed was incredible.

There’s a lot of verbiage out there that cyclists, runners and the like use to express when your body starts to tell you, “NO MORE – STOP!”

My favourite is bonking. There’s also gassed, tanked, hit the wall, done and the pain cave of course.

Ryder went beyond. From what I could see. He ignored his body and dug so incredibly deep, beyond the threshold. Into the unimaginable. A place maybe even he had never been before.

This weekend I am doing my first half-marathon. The Victoria Goddess Half-Marathon on Vancouver Island.
I’m super excited and scared. Training. Well, I’ve been more focused on the time in the saddle then the running. Mostly due to a niggling calf scar tissue injury that hasn't left me yet.

Even though, I am going to do it anyway. Taped up. And with these thoughts in mind: if I say I can - I WILL!

When the going gets tough, I’m going to think about Ryder and what he did.

Focus on the finish.

YES I can!

Chasing Rabbits

There’s a good chance in the morning on my daily commute that I will come across another cyclist. Given the sun is shining.

My roll these days is almost an hour to work or school, and an hour home. I’m enjoying being out there, even with the challenges.

There are certain stretches where I like to pump it up. Raise the heart rate and burn a sweat.

Or chase a rabbit!!!!

That would be another cyclist. Maybe half a kilometer a way. And so the groove is on.

Catching them and passing them is one thing, but not giving in to them passing me after I pass them, is another.

So I crank it up. Roll along. Focus. Focus. And sweat.

Sweat is sweet. You know you’re working it.

Especially when you have a rabbit to catch!


I'm training for the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer June 16 & 17th. If you'd like to donate to the BC Cancer Foundation through my ride, please go here and thank you in advance for helping to find a way to heal the World from Cancer.

To Scare Yourself

Who came up with that line anyway?

“Do something everyday that scares yourself.”

When I feel the uncomfortable twang I am reminded.

It’s everyday now, although getting somewhat easier and less frequent.

Considered homeless by the Vancouver Marine Police I’ve been relocated to the North Shore for anchorage. Another week and I can go back to the False Creek shuffle.

For another two weeks.

Then I come back again.

It’s amusing in many ways. And difficult too.

I wish I had roots. Access to power. A nearby shower. Laundry.

I’ve asked the Universe. Why me? What have I done that has been so wrong?

In acceptance I have discovered. It’s not what I’ve done that’s wrong. It is the lofty goals I have set for myself.

The Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer 320km Challenge course next month.

Thank goodness it is spring and not winter!

Gingerly I plop the road bike, less the front wheel, derailer side up in the aft end of the dinghy. Gently placing the loaded panniers (complete with laptop) and front wheel in the bow.

Carefully I step to sit so I can row to shore and repeat the process.

Then it’s putting the bike together and setting off.
For what really scares me.

Riding skinny tires in Vancouver. Over the Second Narrows bridge.

Clear glasses have made a difference. Weekly brake adjustments as well.

Experience is starting to show. I can roll the hills with more confidence.

No speed wobbles. Panniers get packed to balance.

What does it make me knowing I scare myself daily?
Stronger?

Perhaps.

Or less likely to search out other ways to scare myself!

Just One Pound

It means a lot to me to receive donations from people I have never met.

Less then eight weeks now to the 320km cycling Challenge. The Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer.

Training has been my mantra. Time now to spin my wheels on reaching my minimum donation goal so I can ride.

I’ve struggled with reaching out.

Initially I heard the event company that organizes the ride takes 70% of the funds raised. That has since been clarified. It's 30%.

The stigma attached to a cycling event sponsored by an oil company wrenched my moral code for the longest time too. Yet, they are helping to raise funds for a painful and heart wrenching disease that has swept through communities and ravaged families for decades. Even mine.

Time to heal the wounds. To help. To do something.
I do know now the BC Cancer Foundation helps and the funds stay here.

When I began this journey there were two things I knew I had to do to get there. Firstly, set up a training regime that would jam into my full-time school/part-time work schedule. Secondly, peel off some pounds to make it all easier.

Thursday’s is my weekly weigh in. I reached a bit of a plateau in the last month. One pound up or no pounds lost. Well, until this week.

Yesterday when I weighed in I was down 1.2 pounds. To date I’ve lost 15.6 pounds. Thanks to the training and the focus to shred some with the help of Weight Watchers on-line.

Even though I’m not at my weight loss goal. I am getting there.
By setting these goals for myself, I am helping myself so I can help others.

My energy is better. I can wear my skinny jeans. My gate is like a thoroughbred. I feel so much lighter on my feet.

Especially this week. 

Even though it was just one pound.


If you'd like to donate to the BC Cancer Foundation through my ride please go here and thank you in advance for helping to find a way to heal the World from Cancer.

To Push the Edge

Training is a big part of my life these days.

I read a lot. Talk a lot. Sweat a lot.

And I love it.

But there are days when I want to push myself beyond.

Not always do I find a way to do that.

Except for last weekend.

You’ve heard the term Bonked.

It wasn’t that I Bonked. More like I went beyond my threshold of what I thought my body could do.

I so remember at one of the FEAT Talks a runner saying, “The body follows the mind.”

For me I was cycling. I’d already tallied the totals the day before and run as well. Hadn’t eaten enough, clearly. Still went for it. Following my powerhouse cycling pal, @TisCath up some long elevation gains.

It so hurt.

I kept thinking of the Pro Cyclists and the Tour de France.
So I pushed, and I pushed.

Honestly, at one point I didn’t think I could do it. Calling out “Damsel in distress!” came to mind.

Then Lance Armstrong’s line, “Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever,” swirled around in my head.

“I can do this,” I told myself.

And I did.

Later on it felt great.

To go beyond. 
To push the edge.

Training Ups

Signed up for the Victoria Goddess Run. A half marathon. Yup, call me crazy.

It’s two weeks before the 320km Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer.

Which is three weeks before I do the 140km Tour de Victoria.

I know. I'm asking for a bit much out of this 40 almost 50 year-old body.

But hey, if you don’t take the leap you’ll never know how far you can jump.

Saw an interesting anecdote on Twitter today. Someone wrote they’d done a workout, then realized the “pros” would be doing another one, so they’d better get out there and up it.

Anotherwards, instead of doing what you should do or what you think you can. Do more.

Enough said.

So I’m telling my riding pal this morning, as we huff and puff up some hills on our bikes, that I signed up for a half.

“So how much running are you doing now?” she asks.

“About 40 minutes. Once, sometimes twice a week,” I reply.

“How far is a half marathon?” comes next.

Me in a mumbo jumbo said something like, “Over 20kms.”

Then, the lightning bolt.

“How far do you run in 40 minutes?” she smartly inquired.

“About 6.5 kms,” I reply meekly.

“So I guess you need to start running more,” she concludes.

Silence.

Seven weeks till the half. That’s the challenge.

It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.

Now fit that in with school, work, living and training for a 320km cycling ride.

Thinking I might need a new pair of running shoes.

Skinny Jeans

Booked six hours in the saddle this weekend.

I’ve learned a lot about my body.

Was close to bonking after the second hour today. Reminded myself to eat every 45 minutes. Tried that yesterday and it got me through.

It also helped to have a destination in mind.

Felt I should reward myself with a coffee at the new Musette Caffe where you can pack your bike in. No worries.

Took me a bit to find it. Was happy when I did.

Must of had a confused look on my face when I rode up. I saw a bunch of harsh locks outside. Was sure I’d read I could roll in.

Couple bike dudes looked down on me through the window. I pointed at my bike and to the door and I got the bring it in nod.

Was gassed when I parked my bike and booked it to the counter. Coffee and some fuel was only on my mind.

First thing I got asked was how my ride was. I elaborated and detailed yesterday’s and today’s. We discussed the wind during yesterday’s Iona Beach roll. I reiterated the tailwinds on the way home. Zoom, zoom, zoom!

There were wooden blocks on the floor as you walked in to park your back wheel. Genius. I’d wondered how they’d fit them in. There was a family, a couple fit cyclists reading Pro Cycling rags and more then a few pairs of riders in gear.

More guys rolled in.

We got to yacking. Where else can you go with your bike and talk saddle routes?

Turns out we had a lot in common. Plus they had a social team. Doing the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer as well.

Small world.

Or is it just we’re cyclists?

We exchanged contacts and I geared up for home. 
Fondly I reflected on my Friday night purchase. I’d bought a new pair of jeans.

If I can keep up this effort of training and nutritional regime, I’ll get the last 20 pounds off. Can hardly wait. Be easier for the ride. And afterwards, I’ll get to wear my skinny jeans.

The ones I bought on Friday night are a size too small.