school

For me, going to school was always about becoming better.  Moving towards becoming an expert in what I was studying.  In part, this was encouraged by my parents who instilled the values of anything worth doing is worth doing well and partly due to being adept at learning new things and the satisfaction it brought.

As a teacher, I am more often than not frustrated by students who care little about their education.  And, as I get to know some of these students better, I do side with them.  A little.  I can't imagine being 16 years old and still sitting in math class when math beyond simple numeracy will have no benefit to my career.  For some of these students, the courses they are forced to take to earn their coveted high school diplomas are subjects that completely elude them.  I can't imagine sitting there, struggling to learn.  Until freedom at age 18.

And while part of me gets so angry that many students in high schools throw their gift of education away, what really makes me angry is when programs that honour gifted students are shut down.  I stumbled across the following video made by students from Peterborough Collegiate Vocational Institute.  Their school, along with arts program for gifted performers is being closed down.  The artist whose song they are singing, claims she cried when she heard their rendition, sung in the stair well of the soon to be closed school.  I truly don't understand how our society and education system can support imprisoning students in classes they don't want to take, throwing money at programs to, at any cost, find alternatives to get students credits they don't want or need for their careers, but close down a school and program that students do want.  A program that fosters talents and allowed the creation of this....

lost and found

In my last post I complained about hating struggling at the back of group rides.  I figured what better way to get over this than to crash Watson's group ride in the Copeland today.  I put a smile on my face and played follow the leader.  Even though, Watson is mad at me for something, he kept the pace really easy (easy for him, hard for me :)  and somehow managed to defy physics, putting together a loop that involved lots of downhill without much up.  I had a blast riding with the boys, who also included Tristan and Jeremy.  Unfortunately, Parker forgot to set his alarm clock - definitely one of the most fun rides I've done this season.  Something to be said about swallowing your pride, as I realize I've missed out on lots of fun rides for fear of being the weak link.

Got home and it was time for some chores...

The garbage men are going to hate us - 28 bags of leaves!!!  

The Wheel of Fortune

'The Wheel of Fortune,' I say.  'It is your card: you drew it....  It tells us that we all only want victory.  We all want to triumph.  But we all have to learn to endure what comes.  We have to learn to treat misfortune and great fortune with indifference.  That is wisdom.' ~ Philippa Gregory

I haven't written much about my races this year.  Partly because there haven't been many to speak of.  Mostly because I've been greatly disappointed in my performance.  And yes, I did have a sizable worm swimming around in my guts this year, but before I knew that, I found myself struggling to finish a race and not wanting to talk about it afterwards.

So the worm is gone, and I'm back to training.  And my fitness is every so slowly returning.  I did my last race of the season at Hardwood last weekend.  My goal was to stay with the pack for as long as humanly possible.  100 metres after the start I began moving backwards and spent the rest of the race riding solo at the back.  

I, like most people I am sure, hate losing.  I don't even like going out on a group ride and being last up a hill or struggling at the back.  I find myself anxiously awaiting the return of speed and I can't help thinking that just over a year ago, I was always vying for a spot on the podium.

It is time for me to look at my riding with some indifference.  In the Wheel of Fortune, maybe I am climbing up to the top again, but at the moment I am somewhere near the bottom.  Perhaps the key to indifference is enjoying the ride on the entire wheel, for all of its ups and downs and even when going sideways.  I think that may be the only way for me to stay in the game.

above: struggling to hold on

 below: riding solo

  

stubborn

I spent the first 1.5 years of my life with a displaced hip.  It wasn't until I started learning to walk that my parents realized something was wrong.  Stubborn, I walked anyways.  Without a voice yet, it was easy for them to pull me to the doctors office without protest.  Turns out it was something that should have been caught at birth.  6 months in a cast and 2 surgeries later, one without anesthetic as I was too young to undergo the drugs again, my hip was back in place.

There's something about those years that has shaped the way I deal with pain.  I suffered for a year with a parasite, most of my life with a fairly severe gluten allergy, finished the Squeezer with a torn calf, Day 5 and 7 of TransRockies with Campylobacter and on Saturday rode Radical and on Monday half the Brewery to Brewery with a well sprained hand.

It's a combination of being stubborn, a reasonably high pain threshold and not wanting to miss out on something potentially fun.  I finally let my mom drag me to the hospital after Thanksgiving Dinner was successfully served.  We left before desert in the hopes of beating the post-Thanksgiving Dinner rush.  Successful, we were in and out of RVH within 1.5 hours.  Not broken, therefore I would ride the next day despite my mom's protests.

I didn't really notice the pain until we arrived in Creemore.  After a chat with Jeremy, I decided to give in and call my mom to pick me up.  At least I'd gotten to enjoy the most beautiful weather for our annual ride to date.  It also elicited the biggest turnout for my favorite ride of the season.

I don't regret my decision to ride one bit, even though my puffy hand begs to differ.  Perhaps one of these days, I'll be willing to miss out and listen to my body.  But that day was not yesterday.

amazing turnout and beautiful weather for the 8th annual Thanksgiving Brewery to Brewery ride

my Knight in Shining Spandex

It just seemed too cold to warm up.  With promises of a neutral start, I mostly skipped the warmup in favour of more time in my down jacket and toque.  I did a little spin with Spak and Jeremy with a couple of sprints thrown in to try to wake up the legs, okay, one of those sprints was to get away from some pretty scary looking sea gulls.

Then, the neutral start for Tour de King was off... I fully blame myself for not knowing that it was only 400m of neutral start, before the race started on a sharp right hander onto a steep grassy hill that felt like being woken up by a bucket full of cold water.  The next thing I know, I was busting out my well honed track standing skills waiting to get into the single track and then rode an easy pace behind what seemed like hundreds of cross bikes.  Got to the road and watched the cross bikes speed away.  I put my head down and kept going.

Got to the King Trails and cherished my solo time.  Finally, a chance to reap the benefits of being on a mountain bike.  Caught back up to the folks on cross bikes near the end of the trail.  Knowing that was the last bit of single track, I tried to pick off a few of them before I got to the road in the hopes of ending on the road section amidst some sort of pack.  Came through to the parking lot to see Jeremy who had pulled from his race due to some sort of fiasco with his contact lenses.

He was waiting for me to finish the race with.  I was so happy to see him, I think I even promised that he doesn't have to cook dinner this Wednesday.  I think I was also delirious at that point.  Oh well, a promise is a promise (ahem, Watson).  Good to have someone to draft off for the rest of the race and some motivation to keep the effort up - I convinced myself that he would leave me behind if he got cold from not having to work hard enough.

Crossed the line and put on every bit of clothing I had.  Then, enjoyed a great afternoon catching up with friends and a great barbeque after another amazing Chico event.

photo courtesy Jacqueline Shaver

I don't really hate my husband - Fall Epic 8 Hour

I love my husband.  But, there were several hours yesterday where love turned to hatred.  Usually, I am the one pushing him to do races.  I even convinced him that TransRockies would be a better honeymoon than a few weeks in France riding bicycles and drinking good wine.

So, yesterday was his day.  He proposed we ride the 8 hour tag, which I went along with.  It wasn't until the day before that I realized my longest ride this summer has been more in the 2 hour range.  He also decided that instead of the classic he goes, I go, he goes, etc., that he would bust out a fast first lap and then pass off to me to ride 3-4 hours and then he would finish the day.  Not the fastest way to complete an 8 hour, but less painful than the alternative stop/start.

As my hours on the bike wore on and grumpiness settled in, I grumbled something about there being a 'tag' in tag-team as I went by the AWI tent.  But, Jeremy was there each lap to offer some yelling and encouragement that kept me riding my fastest.  And, while I proclaimed my hatred of him for 'making me do this' while out on my last lap, it is not true.  Jeremy is an amazing husband, who I love very much.  I am glad he pushed me to do this race, as I impressed myself by pulling off pretty consistent lap times and after his encouragement was even able to make my last one, one of the fastest.

After my laps were over, I thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon recovering, eating and socializing.  Jeremy moved us up in the standings from 8th to 6th place, blowing himself up pretty good in the process.  And, I would do the race again, glady.  But, don't tell him that.  For once, Jeremy deserved a day where I go along with his ideas ;)

no pics from the 8 hour, but the above are a somewhat comical sequence of Jeremy rescuing me and my bike from a fairly deep and fast moving river during last year's TransRockies.

Provincials

As a kid growing up with a rather strict British dad, there were several rules to be followed.  Eat with your fork in your left hand and your knife in your right, always say Thank You, speak just loud enough so that those around you can hear, but you don't disturb other conversations.  The list goes on, but those are the good ones that I remember and that I still follow to this day.  There is one rule, however that has become a part of my adult life that I broke yesterday: you never enter a competition you haven't prepared for.

I'll never forget my dad pulling me from a skating competition.  I was 10 years old and I had starting slacking at practices.  The night before a meet my dad told me I wasn't competing.  "Start practicing more and I'll let you enter the next one", he told me in his to the point, no nonsense, don't argue with me fashion.  It was a good lesson.  One that made me a better competitor and made me not just try my best on game day, but in practices too.

Yesterday I raced provincials.  I was nowhere close to ready.  Rides since I've felt better have been completely unstructured and I knew I was slow.  But, I needed to get back out there.  I needed to feel what it was like to feel like a hero for 30 minutes and like death for an hour.  I needed the feeling of digging deeper for any amount of energy you have left to finish the race.  So, I broke the rule that has governed my competitive life since childhood, I swallowed my pride knowing that I would not be a contender.  I lost the race in a spectacular fashion.  But, it felt so good to be back.

Big thanks to all the spectators cheering for me, even though the next girl was 10 minutes ahead of me.  I even had some cheers from my fellow racers while out on the course.  You guys rock!  Thanks for welcoming me back in such a warm fashion.  Standing in the start pen with you felt like coming home.  And lastly, an enormous Thank You to Caleb for the perfect feed.

I have two racing friends that were also out this year.  I hope you are better soon and back out there.  We miss you!

slower than in races past on the uphills

at least going down is just as fast :)