Party Run: 2016 Mudmoiselle London (Guest Post)

By Elan Paulson

(Shown above: Team “Slick Chicks” post-race)

This is a follow up to my previous blog post on party runs, which I published in anticipation of the 2016 Mudmoiselle London fundraiser for the Canadian Cancer Society. In my previous post I had signaled some concerns about party runs, highlighting examples of runs that are currently available in North America. So, here’s me reporting back on where the Mudmoiselle stands in relation to these concerning issues.

The corporate issue: The event was well-organized and fully stocked with smiling volunteers; cheerful music; and a series of tends for registration, bag check, and changing. The Mudmoiselle “template,” with standardized pink/yellow/teal colours, was used for signs and medals. Registered participants received modest draw string swag bags with a shirt, trial-sized protein bars, and assorted gift certificates. About the only noticeable corporate branding was a guy at the photography booth dressed up like a Best Buy ticket.

What I think I liked most about the run was the camaraderie it inspired. There were some cooperative obstacles, but it was the occasion itself that brought out our team’s support for each other. That’s something no amount of sponsorship could buy, and perhaps it was in part because there was little corporate presence that we could focus on motivating and having fun with each other.

The “dress up” issue: Our team chose “business slick” attire: white men’s dress shirts, ties, sunglasses, and lipstick. Our costume was determined less by gender norms and more by what was comfortable but also ironic for a mud run. At our after-run lunch back at the captain’s house, our team was already talking about next year’s costume. Most seemed to like the idea of formal gowns.

The health issue: The course was not competitive, or even timed. An announcer warmed up teams at the start line. The obstacles were challenging, but not insurmountable. And some were quite amusing. Our team particularly liked the diagonal pole we had to slide down (with the aid of applied lubricant) to avoid falling into a mud pit. We encountered encouraging signs (“It’s just a hill; get over it”), water stations, and cheers from by volunteers and medical staff. So, it was a healthy activity, but afterwards we chose to have pizza and beer.

The environment: On this well-marked course we ran up and down a local ski hill on a beautiful, sunny day. We pulled jeeps in neutral, flipped large tires, and navigated through strings pulled taut across woody bike paths. Other than the water and soap to make a “slip ‘n slide” down a larger part of a hill, most obstacles seemed to use existing spaces well, and did not seem environmentally damaging.

The fundraising issue: The London Mudmoiselle met its fundraising goal—nearly $80,000—and our team met its own goal as well. I took my fundraising seriously, and through asking friends and family for donations raised almost $900. While I may have ran the Mudmoiselle run, it’s those who donated to the charity who are the real champions of the day. So, I’m listing below those who donated for me to acknowledge their generosity.

I had only one family member refuse to donate to the CCS because he thinks they aren’t transparent about how they manage their funds compared to other charities. And while the day served the purpose of fundraising, at the starting line there was no explicit mention by run organizers of the charity or its efforts (at least none that I had heard).

Overall: As an event that emphasized fun, friends, and health, but without over-the-top competitiveness or a barrage of corporate gimmicks that undermined the run’s social purpose or personal benefits, Mudmoiselle’s pros and cons netted out pretty evenly for me. It was a party run, but it was fun and it promoted an inclusive type of “partying” that many would find to be a welcome alternative to a traditional booze bender on a Saturday (complete with ties around our heads).

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Riding the Friends for Life Bike Rally at a friendly pace

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I just recently completed the Friends for Life Bike Rally, a six day cycling adventure that’s the main fundraiser of the Toronto People with AIDS Foundation. The bike rally is many things. It’s a fundraiser, sure, but it’s also a community, an experiment in cooperative, communal living, a chance to make friends and share stories, and it’s also a very long bike ride. I don’t find 100 km that challenging but six days of it is challenging, especially when you’re camping at night and riding in all conditions.

Other people do a much better job than me at explaining what’s so beautiful about the bike rally. Ken Allen writes, “Once again I’ve arrived in Montreal by bicycle, left emotionally reeling from having spent a magical week living in a world where challenges are met with collaboration rather than competition, where kindness is commonplace, and where hugs are plentiful. It’s a rare and beautiful thing, to find a world outside of my imagination that so perfectly meets my needs while also acting as a mechanism for helping others. A week is too short a time to live in that world. ‪#‎f4lbr17‬” That was Ken’s Facebook status update but it was set to to public so I assume it’s okay to quote.

Stephanie Pearl McPhee, aka The Yarn Harlot, writes this about the rally, “There is an intimacy that happens on the Rally, and it happens right away. There is no way that this many people, all moving toward a common goal, all hurting for the same thing, all in the same place, eating together, riding together, putting up tents together – can avoid feeling a togetherness that’s remarkable. You become each others world very quickly, you’re the only people who really understand what’s happening, and friendship is the thing that makes it so – and friendship in all its forms. The sort that springs up when you brush your teeth with someone you just met, together at 6am, all squeezed into spandex and about to do something epic. Another sort thrives as you see old friends revealed in new ways or discover new depths and build on a friendship you thought was at its fullness.” See more of her words here but prepare to get weepy. I did.

(Want to come with? Registration for #F4LBR18 is open with an early bird discount until August 7th.)

One thing it isn’t is a race. There’s lovely company, beautiful scenery, and many days to get through/enjoy weather depending. Six days, six hundred and sixty kilometers.

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Not only isn’t it a race, it’s also not a fast training ride.

When on the bike rally and on cycling holidays, I find myself happily switching into touring mode. I try to find a quick sustainable speed that I can enjoy and still appreciate the journey. That’s good because I was riding the bike rally with my friend and guest blogger Susan. She’s pretty fast for a brand new cyclist but this is her first year on the road bike so there’s a bit of a speed gap between us. Drafting helped us bridge the gap.

Susan told her story about learning to draft here. She’s great at drafting now.

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(You can compare my speedy training rides with the bike rally thanks to Strava. Average speed on speedy training rides, 28 to 30 km/hr. Average bike rally speeds 22 to 24 km/hr. More telling though is average heart rate. It’s 140 to 150 on the training rides, 120 to 130 on the bike rally. And that is exactly as it should be. Even cycling coach Chris Helwig’s instructions were to ride easy, staying mostly in Zone 2, except on hills.)

Indeed my one exception to the policy of moderation was hills. I think I’ve caught the bug. I see hills now and want to race up them. Luckily the landscape between Toronto and Montreal is mostly downhill, and the prevailing winds are behind us. I have work to do though on being the person drafted versus being the person hanging on the back for dear life. I’m so often in the latter role that my skills at the former are rusty. I’m good at maintaining a steady speed but not so good at remembering to ease up from that steady speed on hills.

Also, in the taking it easy category, I did excellently at putting into practice the principal that it’s not my job to correct wrong people everywhere. As they say, I don’t have to attend every argument to which I’m invited.

I didn’t feel the need to announce my reasons for being slower than others. I heard one young man tell everyone around that the only reason he was just getting into lunch now is because he was sweeping. (The sweeps ride in last so the volunteers working “road safety” know that we’re all in.) Don’t do that dude. There’s no need. It’s not a race. And think about how it made the people who were riding that pace feel.

I didn’t correct the young woman who didn’t believe in drafting because it doesn’t work. The riders in bike races ride so close for fun, I’m sure. You save your words of cycling advice for riders on the Tour de France. They’ll be happy to hear that drafting is unnecessary.

I also didn’t correct the man who told me he’d done his research and clipless pedals don’t make a difference. I just smiled and said I liked mine. No argument.

At 50 I’m finally growing up! (Though I still feel fifteen an awful lot of the time.)

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Friends For Life Bike Rally Day 2: in which Samantha pulls me to Adolphustown

This is the longest day of our Toronto to Montreal journey. It’s 130kms of lovely lakeside biking but still, that’s a lot of biking. 

Truth: I have been road biking for less than a year and before that, I was only the most casual cyclist. So, I have been pretty darn impressed with myself that I’m hovering in the 23.5 km/h average range. 

Sam has been gracious enough to ride with me this year and I have spent that time chatting, panting, swearing under my breath and occasionally thinking of good questions to ask about cycling. 

All these things combined together on day 2. First of all, speed is about time on the bike. I can do squats and deadlifts and run and TRX but nothing is gonna get me faster on the bike than trying to go faster. So, I will keep trying. Faster is most definitely more fun. 

Next, don’t brake. I don’t mean never, but try not to. She suggested all sorts of ways to slow down that don’t involve braking (no, dragging your feet on the ground isn’t one of them. It wears out your shoes, just like mom said, amongst other problems). What clicked for me was conservation of energy. If I don’t brake, I pedal less or less hard. If I pedal less hard, I use less energy and I have more for hill climbs and sprints and such. 

Next, I have a weak right butt cheek. TMI? Maybe, but it led to the next important lesson. I started to get spasms in my right butt cheek around 35 km. It’s easy to fix. I have to stop and stand up. Nothing else works. No other position, or standing up while riding or anything. I have to get off. That isn’t a problem if I can wait for official breaks but when the interval shortened to 25 km, then 15 km, then 8, well, that’s a pain in the butt, if you get my drift. It was a long day and going slower wasn’t the solution. The solution was to go as fast as possible and get it the heck over with. Which leads me too…

“Susan Finally Learns to Draft”. Oh yes, I learned and I learned good. My whole world was Sam’s wheel and her butt. I stuck to her like glue and we went FAST! It was glorious, especially when my rear wasn’t at a critical point. I got over my anxiety of being close, didn’t brake hardly at all and she dragged my sorry self all the way. 

At 100 km I thought about stopping and taking a support vehicle. And then I wanted to cry. I have worked so hard to get ready for this ride and, barring something truly horrible, I want to finish. I NEED to finish. All my pride and competitiveness and blah blah says “ignore your rear and get in gear”. So I did and in just over 5 hours of riding time, we made it. 

I could NOT have done that without your quiet and persistent and patient support, Sam, so thank you. 

By the way, if anyone is impressed, show us how impressed you really are and sponsor us here. That’s me. Sam is here

  

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On the road with #F4LBR17

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Me on Red Dress Day 2014. I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll wear this dress again or something else. Decisions, decisions!

I’m on the road all next week with Friends for Life Bike Rally, riding from Toronto to Montreal to raise money for the Toronto People With AIDS Foundation.

Saturday, July 25th  is Packing Day and Sunday, July 26th is Departure Day. On July 30th, 600 km later, we arrive in Montreal, with lots of fun, friendship, and adventures in between.

Last year I rode with my friend David. This year I’m riding with my friend and guest blogger Susan.

I’ll blog a little bit from the road, maybe, but it will depend on fussy things like the elements, mostly rain and a strength of the cellular signal.

It’s not too late to sponsor me here!

And you can read about last year’s ride:

Bike Rally Route

PWA’s Friends for Life Bike Rally

On July 26, 2015, more than 300 Riders and Crew will embark on a six-day, 600 km journey from Toronto to Montréal to support the Toronto People With AIDS Foundation’s (PWA) ability to provide critical services and support to individuals living with HIV and AIDS in Toronto. Now in its 17th year, the Bike Rally is the sustaining fundraiser of the PWA.

Bike Rally Participants of all ages and levels of experience share a common passion in supporting their friends, family and neighbours living with HIV/AIDS. Join PWA’s Friends For Life Bike Rally for the experience of a lifetime and help make a positive difference. Dreaming Bigger … Celebrating Friendships … Strengthening Communities … one kilometre at a time

Walking and Running with Pride!

 

This past week was a big week in my life. So big that I couldn’t fit it all in and had to cancel cycling holiday plans. No Manitoulin Island for me this year.

While my father’s illness, badly behaved teenagers (it’s the end of the high school year, we’re all running out of patience) and travel plans on the part of my sister-in-law who usually does back up parenting for us were part of the story of competing commitments, it wasn’t all bad.

Here’s some of the good stuff: My son graduated from the Triangle Program. It’s Canada’s only publicly funded secondary school classroom for LGBTIQ2S youth from grades 9 to 12. That’s exciting. I was thrilled to be there for his graduation ceremony and to get to spend time in Toronto for Pride. Mallory and I also got to do the Pride and Remembrance Run. Guest bloggers Alice and Susan and Stephanie were there for the run too.

Susan wrote about the Pride Run last year: “There is one race, however, that motivates me best, the Pride and Remembrance Run, held each year in Toronto on the last Saturday of Pride Week. It was founded in 1996, The Pride and Remembrance Run has become an annual tradition promoting and fostering community spirit, goodwill, volunteerism and sportsmanship in the LGBT community.” For the complete list of reasons she loves it, read on here.

Stephanie says about this year’s event, “This was my fourth year doing the Pride and Remembrance Run. I love it for so many reasons: it’s close to home, the course is familiar (I run around Queen’s Park all the time), and it starts at a very reasonable 10am. It’s also one of the most fun races to run: confetti at the start, the Pride festival on the surrounding streets, people dressed in costumes and bright colours. It’s become a bit of a traditional race for members of my department. This year, I think we had about 14 people running – what a great turnout!”

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I think between us this community of bloggers had the full range of speeds and experiences! Susan got a personal best for 5 km and Stephanie broke 25 min for the first time in awhile. Alice and Amy had a terrific fundraising year. They arrived late, 14 min after the start due to “toddler issues” and pulled up the rear.

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Mallory and I were in the middle. Mallory wanted to do the 3 km walk and I was originally going to run. But after walking 16 km the day before I had a sore knee and started to worry about running in the upcoming duathlon. In the end I walked all but the final kilometer and started to run only when Susan came past us.

I loved the event. It was probably the best organized run/walk event I’ve ever taken part in. The serious runners got to start first and they were coming back in as the walkers were leaving. The best times were in the 16 and 17 minute range. Speedy!

Here’s how they organized the waves:

I loved the glitter/confetti cannon.

Here’s the start/finish line:

I loved the closed roads in downtown Toronto.

Here’s the route:

I loved the marching band playing Sesame Street and Muppets tunes. I loved all the costumes, of course. These guys won for best costume:

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Glenn Bell photography

But most of all I loved the sense of community and the full range of ages, abilities, and ambitions. I’ll definitely be back, next year I hope without a sore knee, and I hope to run the 5 km. See you there!

 

Mallory and me

Mallory and me!

Susan and me!

Susan and me!

Oh, and I also love that the Premier of Ontario, Kathleen Wynne, does the run with police escorts on bike!

One Run, One Ride: Rocking the cause (Guest post)

I have an ambivalent relationship to charity rides and races. I’ve done them – you can check out my posts about my craziest charity challenge ever, the Scope London-to-Paris 24-Hour ride I did in 2013 – and have enjoyed the riding/racing part, but I find the fundraising really tough. I like to give my time and effort to causes I believe in, and because I’m lucky to have a well-paid, salaried job I happily donate money every month to charities that represent my core community values (the Daily Bread food bank and Humane Society in Toronto; Women’s Community House in London, Ontario). But asking friends for money, over and over? Organising events to raise money, usually inviting the same friends to attend? Huge respect for people who do this well, but I find it really hard.

So this year I did not sign up for the One Run charity ride, a spin event at a local gym here in London that supports the amazing annual breast cancer fundraiser powered by survivor Theresa Carriere. One Run is a superb event that funnels the money it raises mindfully into three causes: a patient assistance fund, a research and tumour biobank, and an awareness/education program, all in London, Ontario. (For those from away: London is a university town with internationally known clinical and research facilities, part of Western University and the London Health Sciences network.) Theresa, meanwhile, is a total inspiration: HER part of One Run, in addition to marshalling her numerous volunteers and managing many, many fundraising events, is to run 100km in one day, from London to Sarnia, Ontario (on the Michigan border) as part of the charity’s marquee event. You can take part in loads of One Run’s great fundraisers simply by contributing a donation fee (please check out all of its awesomeness here; if you don’t live in Ontario note that you can also donate on the web), but stuff like the 100km group ride encourages participants to fundraise too. So even though I’ve enjoyed riding this event in the past, this year I balked. Too much on my plate right now to think about asking friends for cash.

Then I had a series of really bad days. An accident at home, the result of anxiety-fuelled sleepwalking; a car accident (nobody was hurt, thankfully!) on a major highway far from home. I posted some stuff to Facebook, trying to keep it light but alerting friends to what I was going through. (See here for my post about reaching out – I believe in asking for help from loved ones when, or ideally before, you need it.) And then I got a message from my friend and spin guru extraordinaire Michelle Kerr.

There was a spare bike for the ride, the next day; did I want to come out for some sweat-it-out love with her, and my other gym/spin gurus extraordinaire Lore Wainwright and Rachel Skinner?

Hells ya.

I was planning on heading out on the road with Sam and our club, the London Centennial Wheelers, for my first ever Saturday Tour, but suddenly I felt the overwhelming need to be in the hot-house studio with my longtime friends and more than 50 other cycling buddies. So I jumped on Michelle’s spare bike, and I was not disappointed.

The amazing thing about the simulated 100km ride event (like all One Run events I’ve attended) is the atmosphere: it’s a vivacious, hilarious, supportive community that welcomes all comers, all body shapes and sizes, all levels of experience. In the back, a “team” of friends in matching kit road their own road bikes on their trainers. In the middle, loads of us on the many extra spin bikes brought in for the event wore everything from T-shirts, shorts and runners to full-on cycling gear. Some sported pink feather boas and other festive attire. A mass of volunteers refilled our water bottles and offered fruit and granola bars for fuel at regular intervals. Every 45 minutes or so we slowed, rode easy, snacked, and waited for another prize draw. (I won a waterproof iPhone case – hooray!) We whooped and shouted and cheered each other through tough drills, as some of our favourite spin instructors took the stage in teams to guide us through. Michelle made her usual mix of corny jokes and inspirational cat-calls; Rachel kicked everyone’s ass; Lore talked us through a tough endurance drill; and Theresa rode us home.

Photo credit: Sharon Wilson. Michelle and Lore taking us into hour #2.

Photo credit: Sharon Wilson. Michelle and Lore taking us into hour #2.

It might seem kind of weird, for regular readers of this blog who know me as the girl who likes to ride major distances and up killer hills (see here if you’re interested), to imagine me inside, in a windowless gym warehouse, on a sunny Saturday morning when I could have been out with the club. But I’m one of those cyclists who loves all forms of riding, because what gets me most worked up about the sport is the incredible, supportive community of men AND women it attracts. Yes, there are gendered differences we are still working through: there are more women than men on stationary spinners at the gym, and more men than women on road bikes, helping to propel the sport’s “Mamil” culture. But events like the One Run 100km ride remind me that we are all strong, and all capable of being loving, accepting, and supportive toward each other: after all, it takes all kinds to make a sporting community.

Working hard (I’m in the blue headband near centre)

Working hard (I’m in the blue headband near centre)

There might not have been sun, but this year’s One Run ride was exactly what I needed. Thanks, Michelle.

Theresa takes us home (half an hour to go!)

Theresa takes us home (half an hour to go!)

End on a BANG! (Guest Post)

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My sister and I are 3 years apart and I always thought it was cool that her birthday was Sept 10 and mine Oct 10. I would tease her that she was only 9/10 while I was 10/10 but it also meant the fall was heralded by her birthday and often back to school was her birthday too.

On Wednesday it occurred to me, after calling my sister to wish her a happy birthday, I was exactly one month before my fortieth birthday. Oh. Cue feelings. And as is my way, I went to humour to figure out my feelings and put this call out to my facebook friends:

“Hi Folks! I’m turning fabulously 40 in exactly one month. You know what would perk up my sagging bits? A donation to the ScotiaBank AIDS Walk for Life – London, specifically my Team RHAC honours Everyday Heroes. We are 50% of the way to our goal and the Walk is SATURDAY. Help a saggy sister out, DONATE today! https://secure.e2rm.com/registrant/TeamFundraisingPage.aspx?langPref=en-CA&TSID=501838

I thought it was funny, things are saggy-errrr and aging can be slightly ridiculous. Some friends rallied to assure me I’m due for the best decade of my life. I’m not terribly freaked out about 40. I’m fortunate to have lots of friends in their 50s and 60s who show me what great decades those are to be in. Samantha offered that I blog about the Walk, it’s not an athletic endeavor but it has its own challenges.

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I haven’t written much about my paid work as a Fund Development Coordinator except to encourage people to be wise when combining philanthropy and fitness. I raise money to provide services to people living with HIV and hepatitis C, two highly stigmatized viruses, as are the people who are at risk of infection and people living with these viruses.

I see the impact on wellness that stigma has, far worse than the impact of a virus or even side effects of medication. Simply being suspected of being HIV positive can put a person’s housing at risk. So, for the past 25 years, we’ve organized an AIDS Walk in London to raise money and awareness.

It’s also that last year of the Walk, the end of a chapter. The partner agencies that support people living with (and at risk of )HIV agreed that we need a new vehicle to raise awareness and more funds to meet the needs of people using our services.

So please do consider helping me end the Walk on a BANG! It’s a celebration of 25 years of activism and raising money. We will have glitter and glam. We will walk 3km with lanterns as the sun sets. We will honour the past and take steps to end HIV stigma, which makes for a better life for people living with HIV and HIV negative people. We all have an HIV status, positive or negative, I live for the day when we are all HIV equal.

So whether it’s a celebration of my upcoming fortieth, an urge to make the world a better place, or simply that you can’t think of a reason not to, please donate today!

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