Hey! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? At the end of the winter things settled into a really nice routine of exercise, work and reading so many books – more books than I’d read in any year of my adult life. But as fun as it was for me – and it was a pretty great way to pass a lovely winter, I didn’t feel I had much to say. But lately things have been getting busy both with personal projects and as I do them I started thinking about writing about them here.

So my big project is fundraising for our local food bank, the TNO Food Collaborative. They started back in 2020 delivering food to people in quarantine and expanded to where they now feed 1,100+ families every week. To raise money I’m doing my first charity bike ride since 2011: an unsupported ride to Montreal. Those who know me are saying “Hey, you’ve done that before!” and yes, I have biked to Montreal three times now. To make it more challenging, I’m doing it faster. Where usually it takes me about six days to ride there, I’m doing it in no more than three. This means riding an average of about 200 km/day (~124 miles) – and I’m doing it 12 years after the last time I did this.

Intrigued? Want to help support this ride? You would make me really happy by making a secure and tax-deductable donation here.

My training rides have been something else again. They started a few months back at over 100 kilometres and worked their way up to 150+. I try to pick interesting places to visit, riding down to Niagara Falls, up to Lake Simcoe (and a delicious Italian hot table restaurant for loads of carbs). This past Sunday, though, was my longest and most challenging. I set my alarm for 4:15 AM but in my excitement I was up at 3:30. After breakfast and coffee I was out the door and on the road by 5:00. The first 50 kilometres were nice. The temperatures were cool, traffic was light and I was feeling speedy with fresh legs and a good attitude. And then, at the edge of Mississauga, I felt a cold drop, and then another and another. Before long, rain was steadily falling. Meanwhile, I was in cycling shorts and a short-sleeved jersey. Great when I left, but now I was getting chilled. By 60 km in I could feel that while my core temperature was fine my skin temperature was cold – and I still had all day left to ride. I pulled into a Walmart, locked up my bike and went inside, looking like a drowned rat with cycling shoes squeaking as I walked. There was one water-resistant jacket left in my size. After riding a few minutes with it on I realized just how cold I’d become. I was glad I got a jacket – it would be another 2-3 hours before I would be anywhere near another store.

In the past when I’ve ridden shorter distances, I was prone to stopping: taking photos, grabbing snacks, or just stopping to just have a break from riding. What I learned, though, as my distances go up is that at this point, riding faster is not the most productive way to cover long distances, taking fewer and shorter breaks is the trick. Shave 30 minutes off my break times and I can go another 10 km or more. Old habits die hard, though, and still I find myself wanting to stop and I have to be mindful to ask myself what useful thing I’ll do with that stop. Will I have a snack, refill a bottle, verify my route, or will I just stand on the side of the road not cycling. The lucky thing about riding in a rainstorm was that stopping meant not only spending more time outdoors in the long run but stopping pedaling amounted to turning off the furnace that was keeping me warm. So on this leg of the trip I made very few stops. This meant that I made it to my destination 15 minutes earlier than I planned. I stopped long enough to get a couple of photos:

There is one covered bridge in all of Ontario and after 118 kilometres of riding mostly through rain, I had made it: the West Montrose Covered Bridge, also known as The Kissing Bridge. A quick photo, a visit to the restroom and I was back on the road toward home.

The ride home was harder by far. Gone was the motivation to get to the covered bridge. The most difficult part, however, was emotional. The weather was dismal, in places the roads were busy with not so great scenery. At the 140 km the devil appeared on my shoulder. “You know, you could reroute to a train station, still get in 200 km and get home earlier,” he said. What I’m learning from all of this training, though, is what that usually means and what to do in the face of it. You may be surprised to learn that the devil on my shoulder isn’t a devil at all. He’s a toddler – and he’s cranky and hungry. Now is a good time to stop for another snack and a drink. I also can deal with my inner toddler the way some do with a real toddler: I make a bargain: Keep riding for another two hours and I’ll take you to McDonalds. Now McDonalds is not my usual preferred daily lunch choice but there are some benefits. First, one can eat only so many energy bars and other sweets to keep your blood sugar up before you feel ill and have to push through nausea to eat enough to ride. But also, on a long ride where one burns 4000-6000 or more calories, it’s not just a good idea to eat lots of calories, it’s important. The alternative is not pretty and can involve bonking – a blood sugar crash that has literally left me in tears on the side of the road. Two hours of rainy riding later, I’m passing through Guelph again and stop.

Every thing on that tray has a purpose. The apple pies are for simple carbohydrates to quickly digest and feel energized. The caffeine and sugar in the coke will help with that. Fries are more carbs and replenish the salt lost through sweating. The fish has a bun with more carbs, and a little protein and tartar sauce for flavour. This will keep me going for a couple more hours anyway. I eat quickly, listening to a dad at the next table sing along with “Dance Hall Days” by Wang Chung to his toddler. Thanks to the wonders of fast food, I’m in and out fairly quickly – though I probably could’ve chosen something faster to prepare. Something to remember for next time.

The next bit of the ride is the most dismal: rain, a few cars and nondescript scenery. My legs are starting to feel a little tired but I also know that once I get back to Georgetown where the Walmart was, it’s mostly downhill until I get home. Still, there are a few climbs left to go before I reach there and now that I’m approaching my usual training ride distance of 150 km, they’re tough and I’m getting a little discouraged. The toddler is back again reminding me that I might be able to catch a train home and still do a really long ride. I think it through again and ask him if he can’t do it, or if he just doesn’t want to. One thing that training rides do is build up one’s relationship with their inner toddler to where they’re honest. He can do it, he would just like me to know how much it sucks and how much more fun it will be at home. I feed him another energy bar and remind him that riding faster means we’ll be home faster. I promise a treat when we cross the border back into Toronto.

The downhill hits and at about the same spot where the rain started, it stops. I still have several hours to go, but it’s not only attainable, there’s even a tiny bit of blue sky.

When I get to the western border of Toronto – still almost 40 km from home, I’m tired but feeling pretty proud. Without noticing when, I’ve gone past the distance of my longest ride – 200 km back in 2020. I keep an eye open for a place to grab a treat for that toddler. He’s getting cranky again. And there it is: You might think it looks like a boring grocery store but to me it is heaven: a bakery and a Starbucks. I grab a box of glazed donuts and a double espresso. I wolf down two donuts and the espresso using a tall pallet of topsoil as a table.

While I’m sitting there, Sage sends a text. Her first storytelling performance post-COVID is coming up and there’s a tiny chance I can make it. The sugar and caffeine add to the motivation and somehow despite being completely exhausted before, I’m now zooming at over 30 km/hour down Eglinton West. Before long I can see our highrise in the distance. My legs are sore and I’m digging deep just to get back home, but then, I’m there.

In the end, I’m not quite fast enough to make Sage’s show. I get in the door, eat a huge, carbohydrate-filled dinner with extra snacks, drink a ton of water and watch TV with Daegan. My readiness to nod off from time to time makes me think it was a good thing I didn’t try to make it to the show after all.

In the early part of the pandemic I had a pretty big flare up of insecurity. Oh my god, I’m not just 50, I’m “in my 50s”. Have I peaked in terms of what I can do physically? Sage, being Sage, laughed at me and said I was being foolish but I assured her that probably I was right. Maybe I should just settle down. But on this day, nearly four years after that bout of insecurity I did the following:

• Rode 238 kilometres – my longest ride in my life by 38km
• Had the most elevation gain in a ride: 2,181 m (7156 ft)
• Beat my 90 km speed record by 5 min
• Beat my 100 km speed record by 6 min
• Beat my 100 mile record (set in 2016!) by over an hour
• Beat my 180 km record (set in 2020) by almost two hours)

Maybe it was that same inner toddler coming up with that nonsense.