Road Biking Woes

I have always been a reluctant exerciser.  But something about living through two pregnancies (and the aftermath) has nudged me into a new phase of gratefulness.  Nowadays, finding the time and having the ability to exercise is a privilege I am eternally thankful for.   It has yet to loose its appeal…

As such, when Mia was a year old, instead of going for a 3^rd child I took a different approach; I bought myself a road bike.

I can’t tell you how much I love the opportunity to go for a “bike around the block” after the kids go to bed.  When you live up in the sticks like us, “around the block” is a good 20km ride.  Biking past rolling farm fields and grazing cows with the never-ending sky above and the setting sun casting a romantic glow on the earth below, it is an idyllic way to get some exercise.

I was so rapt with my new bike that I even agreed to participate in the hospital fundraiser – the Wasaga Beach duathlon.   The first time I participated I was a novice.  I came some dreadful place that had 3 numbers in it and Toby had to cover his eyes when he saw my abysmal placing.  By the second year I had upgraded to toe clips and had started passing the grazing cows with much more oomph so I expected more from myself.

My-slightly-more-competitive-and-incredibly-athletic-but-completely-unhelpful-colleague kindly pointed out to me with much wonder and amazement that I had managed to finish the bike portion of the duathlon with the EXACT SAME TIME as the year before.  That is quite the feat.  And much as I tried to rationalize it in my head (must have been the shoe changing and the wind)… I was deflated.

THIS year, now that I am in my THIRD year of road biking, I decided that I was going to actually APPLY myself and try NOT to get the EXACT same time as last year.   I have purchased a “thing” that records my speed, time and distance.  I have a few set routes and I not only record my stats, I actually CHALLENGE myself to improve and go faster each time.  Somewhere in my brain I have the magic speed of “30km/hr” as a good target to strive for…

Today I set out on one of my more regular routes.  Right away I could feel something was different.  I felt invigorated.  I FLEW up the first few hills and careened down the slopes with more speed than I have ever felt on my bike.  When I reached the flat portion I had myself in highest gear and yet my legs were going hard – my speed was over 35km/hr and it was totally flat.  Even the cows, I kid you not, looked up with a sense of awe as I flew past them.

I’m going to be honest with you, now, and share with you the thoughts that ACTUALLY went through my head today as I whizzed down the abandoned back roads of Rob Roy today.

1.  I might ACTUALLY have a secret talent for biking.  All this time (36 years to be exact) I have been a mediocre athlete at EVERYTHING (except for basketball at which I am appalling).  But maybe just MAYBE I have found my calling.

2.  It must be my big thighs.  I’m like Clara Hughes.  If my parents had only monopolized on my big thighs and started me at road biking when I was younger maybe I COULD have made it to the Olympics…

3.  I have a cousin, Scott, who is a phenomenal biker.  (He even won the Centruion50 the other year.) I started rethinking my entire genetic gene pool.  Maybe we DO share some of the same athletic genes.  I should do the Centurion this year.

4.  I think I might need to get a faster bike.  I’m literally in my highest gear and this is easy.  If I had a really EXPENSIVE road bike (like the one the dude in the store tried to up sell me to) it would probably have higher resistance levels for athletes like me and then I’d be able to go faster.  Yup, the only thing holding me back right now is just the fact that I have but an entry-level bike…

It was at this time that I had to break from these delightful thoughts and stop as I had reached the turnaround part in my bike route.  I won’t lie to you - I really WANTED to keep going, but I had to stick to the prescribed route so that I could see by just how much I had obliterated my previous time.

And so I turned around.

There’s an Irish Proverb out there that goes something to the effect of “May the wind be always on your back”.

I get that now.

The wind, on the way home, was most definitely NOT always on my back.  In fact, it was blowing so hard in my face that the first thing I had to do was downshift.  Twice.  I then had to avert my eyes from the dust and debris that was being violently FLUNG into it. 

I huffed.

I puffed.

I pedaled as hard and as fast as my Clara Hughes thighs would take me, but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, break 20km/hr.

At one point I actually had to WALK up a hill.  In my fancy clip-in-I'm-a-real-road-biker-I-know-what-I'm-doing-shoes.

OH, my poor ego.  

I arrived home deflated and dejected and about 10 minutes longer than it had taken me to do the exact same route two weeks prior.  All super-biking-power-abilities had fast been obliterated from my brain.   As I walked in the door to an absolutely quiet house (all 2 kids and 1 husband were fast asleep) I soaked up the blissfully tranquility.  I still had a few minutes to myself before putting my mommy hat back on…I guess in the end it’s OK not to be a fantastic athlete.  I may never improve on my time at the Wasaga Beach Duathlon.  My thighs may never be as powerful as Clara Hughes and Scott and I may never bond over our first place finish at the Centurion, but I can tell you one thing…I definitely think my decision to buy a road bike was a good one…