no boys allowed - JoyRide 150

My friend Hannah gives the best hugs.  They sum up exactly what it means to feel the comraderie of women.  She puts herself out there, arms open wide, sending out her love without expecting anything in return.  And if you return that hug... seriously it's magic.  And no, I won't be leaving Jeremy for Hannah.

When my parents would come to visit me at Boarding School or University, I was never wearing my own clothes.  Cause girls share.  It's a mystery that my dad still talks about and something my mom doesn't even consider. Because when I'm visiting my mom, chances are that I'm wearing her new ski jacket and she has on my new Lululemons.

What I'm trying to get at here is that there is a kinship among women that I don't expect boys to understand, just as there is bonding among males that I never will.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of coaching at Joyride 150s Second Annual Women's Weekend.  Charlotte and I led sessions on the XC Track to women of all abilities.  When girls learn without boys, something different happens.  I'm not sure what it is, but there's more love, more trying, more learning.  High fives are replaced with squeals, okay there are still high fives, but no one is trying to hide the fact that what they are trying to do is making them scared.  Knowing that the woman beside you is just as scared as you are somehow validates trying the skill in the first place, it turns fear to focus and determination and gives extra motivation if she gets it before you do.  Because, while there is love, there is competition too.

At noon, the park flooded with the general public and returned to its male dominated status.  And I realized at that moment, that as a beginner how intimidating that atmosphere would be.  So a huge thanks to JoyRide for closing their doors this weekend to boys and opening up the sport to a few new gals!

Yog-aaaah

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.”  Goethe/unknown

And so, the last yoga class of 2011 began: Saturday morning in a packed room, I'm wondering how any of us will get into our yoga poses without punching our neighbors.  "2012", Anne, the owner of Ann Green Yoga tells us "is the year of being true to ourselves" and as I reflect back on my last few years, I hope this rings true for me.  If 2011 was the year of self-discovery and healing, 2012 could be the year of moving forward and being true to those discoveries.

The room gets warm quickly as Ann skillfully directs us through a flow of poses that confines us to our mat spaces and away from our neighbors.  I am lost in deep breathing and relaxation when I hear her ask us to now lift our arms off the mat.  I become aware that I'm in an awkward, contorted pose.  I hesitate.  I don't think anyone else has obeyed her orders either, as she has to repeat herself.  I'm fairly certain that if I do what she says, I'll end up toppling to the ground in a not very graceful, or yogic way. Finally, she says: 'Do it; there are more difficult things in your life than airplane pose.  You can do this'.  

Airplane pose?  Well, that's not that hard.  I lift up my arms.  There is no going back, I will either land in a heap on the ground, or this will work out.  I find myself balanced perfectly over my right leg.  I don't topple over.  The class moves on.

As the class finishes and for the rest of the day, I can't help but think how hard it is to move to the next adventure sometimes.  Into what seems like the incredible unknown, especially when the current adventure, like our contorted yoga pose, feels so difficult.  Is the trick merely identifying what is next and then moving into it without hesitation?  Like Goethe wrote: 'the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too'.  

I wish you all the best for 2012 and the courage to lift your hands off the mat to get to your next adventure, even when your current predicament is feeling precarious.  Because truly, that may be just the right moment to move on.  Namaste.

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