Author Archives: Andrew

The Harder I Work, the Luckier I Get

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Today was Clark’s funeral and I learned a few things about the man.  The place was standing-room only with vehicles lined up and down the streets for blocks.  It would seem the lasting impression he left with me, he left with many, many people.  A man devoted to family and to achieving excellence at work and at home.  The world was a better place with him in it.

Attending the funeral in the middle of the morning meant some time off work.  This translated to an extra half-hour on the bike in what has to be some of the coldest weather I’ve ridden yet.  The ride started out at 4 degrees and slowly dropped to 2 before climbing back up again by the end of the ride.  I know it’s just the end of April (as I write) and we’re just as likely to see snow as sun but I could use a few days of warm morning riding.

The biggest drawback to the cold temperature is the requirement for gloves to keep my hands from going numb with cold.  Of course thanks to a combination of hand position, seating position, bike size and good old fashioned biology, when I ride with gloves, my hands go to sleep instead – especially my thumbs.  There are two pads on the heel of your hand and the nerves run between them.  Using a padded (read “insulated) glove and positioning myself the way I do means that padding puts pressure on the nerves and the next thing you know I’m shifting gears instead of gripping the bars.  It’s rather annoying and occasionally problematic but it beats the typical cycling gripe (you know, the seat-related one that’s not a problem with your seat).

I managed to put on just shy of 50 kilometers this morning and found all sorts of new ways to torture myself with hills.  Newsflash – the only way I can avoid riding up hill to get home is to start out climbing up hill towards Nose Hill park.  The problem with doing that is it doesn’t get me anywhere near work and rather obviously – I’m still climbing hills.  In fairness to my progress, climbing hills is – I was going to say getting easier, but that’s misleading – getting less death-like.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say something ridiculous like I pulled out all the stops (ridiculous because I didn’t pull out all the stops – I stopped often and am stopped now) or even I gave it everything I have, because I haven’t done that either – I’m still quite spoiled in fact.  I did however learn one very important thing this weekend – if I don’t do it (it being whatever it is I’m doing) first thing in the morning, it probably isn’t going to get done and that (the not getting done bit) will make me short-tempered and agitated and pure pleasure to be around.

As I tried to catch up to Adam and Alberto, I’ve ridden as many miles as I could get away with without putting a strain on things at home.  I’ve been getting out a few minutes earlier in the morning and riding a few minutes longer in the evenings while keeping the home-front semi-stable.  This weekend I managed a 2 solid rides and an outing with the eldest for a bonus 7km (A quick topic-drift here – the eldest was amazing this weekend, pushing his Canadian Tire 40-pound bike up the steep, grass face to the top of Nose Hill because he wanted to ride around up there.  That’s determination.)

All of the effort was rewarded with a jump from 3rd to 1st place this (Monday) morning.  I leapt up to 473km.  Adam, thankfully, took the weekend off, I suspect to put some competition back into the competition, so is sitting at a solid 456km (as of 9:00 am) with Alberto, despite a huge 80+km effort on the weekend, sliding into 3rd, 150km behind 1st.  In fairness to him, he rides exclusively in the evening and I see he’s put up another 47km ride tonight so as long as I don’t ride for two more days (and he continues), he’ll almost be caught up.  Of course Adam will have continued riding so all that means is we’ll both be well behind him.  So – I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep riding.  Chris is having trouble with his electronic gadgets so updates are manual – I have no idea where he’s at now but he was a solid 115km on Friday.  Late entry Johan the Accountant was sitting at 110km and Jon the Safety Dude a solid 0.

By this time next week, this is anybody’s game however there’s a really big problem lurking.  Despite my attempts at having Adam shipped away on business for a few days, it is I who is heading off for 3 days next week.  That’s 3 days without riding.  That could put Alberto 50km in front of me (and Adam 105km if all he does is commute!).  I need a strategy.

I should take this opportunity to say I believe I am crushing all comers on the elevation race.  The First to 10,000 meters that I instituted last week – seems I neglected to directly inform (though I must say it was published publicly, accessible from pretty much anywhere in the world…) the rest.  They think it’s cheating, I think it’s clearly and obviously not.  And I’m winning.  :-D

 

Regrets

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This was supposed to be a post tied into the regrets and questions brought about by not doing something, in particular not riding.  Life has a strange way of driving home a point at the most appropriate moment.

While standing in the rain watching my eldest kick a soccer ball tonight, my cell started buzzing.  I checked the caller ID and was pleasantly surprised to see it was a friend and mentor I hadn’t talked to in ages.  “Clark!  It’s been too long.”  There was a moment of silence on the other end before his wife started to speak.  “It’s Clark” she said, her voice cracking.  “He’s died”.

I didn’t know what to say.  Do you ever know what to say?  I mumbled some lame condolences and offered my assistance for whatever she might need.  I asked if he’d been sick but no, there was no warning, no indicator.  One minute he’d been enjoying an evening out with his wife and in a matter of moments he dropped dead.  Just like that.

No chance for catching up, for expressing gratitude, no chance to convey all of those things that lurk and linger but are rarely expressed.  One minute a vibrant life and the next …nothing.  For those left behind that seems an unfair hand to be dealt.  On the surface you’d think one would want the opportunity to say those things, to express those feelings and too, to try and find some emotional bracing for the inevitable.

On the other hand, surely this is better than a protracted illness of suffering and pain, the gradual (or not so gradual) loss of independence and dignity.  A slow wasting away.  Plenty of time to know.  But at what price?

No regrets.  If we are to live with no regrets, then one must find a way to remove the self-imposed boundaries and limits and live, for it would seem it is the things we haven’t done that become our greatest regrets.

Thank you for reading this blog – it means a lot that other people can be bothered to read what I write and find something that engages, enrages or amuses them.  Thank you too for being in my life and being the amazing, fantastic, wonderful characters that you are.  I am better for it and so is my world.

Go.  Live without regret.

A breakthrough?

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Upon arriving home in the rain and the headwind yesterday, or rather arriving at the base of my steep climb to home, I found I wasn’t quite as burnt as I normally am by this point.  While I didn’t exactly fly to the top and race away (twas more like lumbering and wheezing), I was able to push on without much complaint from my legs.  Aha thought I, perhaps there’s something to the idea of not riding at 95% all the time (or in my case trying to make like I’m riding at 95%).  Having energy reserves for the big efforts – sounds like common sense.

Last year I found myself making up excuses for why that rider passed me or why I couldn’t catch them.  I’m on the tail end of a big ride.  It’s a recovery day.  I’ve got another 100km to go yet.  Those were the mainstays, lies I made up to tell nobody – so I must have made them up for me.  However, having been with myself the entire ride, I was pretty sure they were half-truths though I could be swayed with the right bribes.  This season it’s become  hey, I’m knocking on 40. That’s quickly pooh-poohed by the logical half reminding the liar creative half that Thomas has a few more years on me and could out-ride me with one leg.  Then I recall that my father-in-law is of retirement age and continues to ride hard, recently rewarding himself with a spanky new full-suspension Specialized 29′r.  I have no excuses.

The excuses of course are a direct result of finding myself in a very losing position to Adam and Alberto.  I’m not sure who’s more competitive but Adam has laid down a serious gauntlet.  Within the last 15 days he’s amassed a minimum of 438km – more than double my own.  As of this afternoon, Alberto has a solid 40km on me though I strongly suspect he’s put another 40 on this evening.  I have not.  (Here comes the excuse)

Monday the eldest has Beavers, Tuesday there’s soccer and Sparks, Wednesday there’s yoga for the best wife, Thursday is soccer again and then it’s Friday.  If Adam were to ride only his commute of 35km/day and I maintained a daily 28km commute, by Friday night I’m already 35km behind.  It doesn’t help matters when the man takes a day off to put on over 120km, leaving the rest of us in his proverbial dust.  He’s going to have to break a leg…

While I have faith that Chris will pick up the pace as we goad and taunt him into action, it is Alberto that is the true wildcard.  His familial obligations are (at the moment) nil, there’s nobody waiting at the door to give him the gears should he opt to spend the evening riding instead of showering her with attention.  Should he decide, he has the time resources to put us all at the back of the pack.  Such an attempt on his part however would likely provoke a counter-attack by Adam and we’d have a hard battle for first.  At any rate, it does not look like I’ll be claiming the bragging rights this year.

So – I propose a new contest.  Elevation.  I have a distinct advantage in that I appear to have more elevation to conquer every day than the rest of the group.  It’s possible that Chris has a similar amount though I haven’t seen his new route either (also moved into a new house this winter).  Adam has almost no elevation on his route, Alberto appears to avoid it and I gather up in excess of 200 meters daily.  This I have a chance of winning without getting into trouble with the family.

A (parallel) gentleman’s wager then – first to 10,000 meters of climbing.  Game on.