“After having proudly supported Zwift-owned Pride On campaigns every June in recent years, Pride On on Zwift is now fully owned and hosted by LGBTQ Zwifters. This is what to expect this June: entertaining group rides, exciting races, runs, a new Pride On kit, legacy unlocks and – most of all – a lot of fun on a daily basis!”
It’s also cold and rainy this weekend in Ontario, and I’m feeling pretty grumpy about not riding my bike. Two weekends ago we went car camping with Mallory and Cheddar, and we couldn’t bring our bikes because Sarah’s car, the one with the bike rack hitch, was broken. Last weekend, Sarah got to ride her bike at the farm, but I was sick. There was also a heat alert. And then this weekend, I’m better, and I have a bike ride marked on our weekend to-do list. It’s cold and miserable. Grrr.
So instead, I got up Sunday morning and joined the 730 am Pride Ride, before church.
Well, that was a very eventful ride. Wowsa.
Zwift has lots of gamified features and I feel like on that ride, I hit all of them. So many medals and prizes.
First, I won every sprint, segment, whatever because they are given out to men and women separately and I think I was the only woman in the ride, hence the fastest woman on all the segments.
Second, I met my weekly distance goal during the ride. That required a small animated digital celebration.
Third, I completed a new route and got a route badge for Scotland Smash.
Fourth, for completing the Pride Ride I got new socks and new kit.
Fifth, during the course of the ride I levelled up to Level 53. Cue more streamers and confetti. Read about Zwift levels here.
And here’s my playlist for the ride from Spotify.
I don’t think I’ve had a much fun on a Zwift ride since I got my flaming socks and my pocket Scottie.
In the Azores, on the volcanic island of Faial, 5 friends and I rented ebikes for what we thought would be a scenic and leisurely ride through part of the countryside.
But after a few hours, following stops for an ocean swim and a lunch, the wet and foggy weather started closing in. We had few route options and limited ebike battery life. The guy at the rental shop had warned us: use the pedal assist too much and we’d be pedalling our heavy ebikes home entirely on our own steam.
The team posing: we had cycle, rain, and swim gear all ready for this trip that day!
I am, by instinct, a middle-of-the-pack person. I’ve never been confident or experienced enough to lead a physical group adventure, though I’m not usually slow enough to need too much bringing along. Most of my athletic life has involved participating but mostly being accountable just to myself.
But after two years of riding with my local cycling club, I’d learned enough about how group rides work to provide some safety and support strategies. One person sets the direction and pace. They carry the authority and stress of being first. Another person holds the rear and watches for gaps. They make sure no one gets left behind and communicates trouble forward.
I didn’t know those roles had names until I talked to a friend who, as an avid hiker, described similar roles for groups on multi-day hikes: scouts and sweeps.
I had just happened to take a photo of the ride routes map beforehand at the rental store, and I’m glad I did because my RidewithGPS app wasn’t awesome in the Faial backcountry.
I was so eager to ride that day, I ended up at the front. It turned out that my first day as a group cycling scout was somewhat stressful: the weather was not improving and the road on those volcanic hills seemed to head ever-upwards.
A break in the hills and the fog allowed me to snap a picture of the road and town ahead.
By the time we got to the exact opposite part of the island from where we started, we had to make a choice: follow the shorter mid-island route the bike store guy had suggested…or take the longer, traffic-busy road near the water. Given the hills we had already faced, we chose the latter.
There were other experienced riders in my group, so we rotated scouts and sweeps as we made our way towards Horta. By finally hitting some downhill and conserving our energy and our bikes’!), we ended up returning to the rental shop with time and battery to spare. Our apps told us we had made speeds of over 50km and reached an elevation of 330m, a gain of nearly 1000m overall. Not bad for recreational cyclists!
Elevation and weather made this recreational ride a good challenge, even on e-bikes.
Our final ride around the island and back to Horta….the long way.
Thanks to the Scouts and the Sweeps
Since our Faial ride, I’ve been thinking about the contributions that scout and sweep roles play in group activities. Not just the formal leaders who are trained and hired to lead groups on trails and tracks, but the regular folks who volunteer their expertise to help move groups of people along together. Scouts and sweeps aren’t just coaches on the sidelines. They are part of the group too, and their labour can be invisible until you’re the one doing it (or you are the one being helped).
Me (Elan) on a scout break eating a Nutella sandwich.
This holiday group ride, which was longer and more difficult than anticipated, made me grateful to have had so many great scouts and sweeps in my life, taking care of me and the rest of the group when I didn’t even notice it. And this time out, I appreciated being able to serve my friend group in that same way.
I find all the talk about aging fascinating. We seem to worry about the aging process almost as much as we worry about climate change. And yet, as a very old man always said when I asked him how he was, “It beats the alternative!” I discovered this blog when I was already well past 50; it began after I was fifty, with Sam’s & Tracy’s stated goal of achieving great fitness by the time they reached that landmark age. I have been reading it steadily ever since, and realize I am quite a bit farther on the aging path than the other contributors. So, I thought I’d share a few of the things I have experienced and observed.
In my first post, The Origins of My Surprising Fitness Journey, I described my brain cancer experience: I was told at age 46 that I was lucky; I could reasonably expect to live 10 to 15 years, but that didn’t feel very lucky to me. So I made ever-increasing forays into fitness. I’m 74, and honestly, I feel stronger and better than I did at 35. Yes, there are a few changes I don’t love: one knee, which was diagnosed with bone-on-bone arthritis about 15 years ago, has very recently made it clear that running is not a reasonable choice anymore. OK, I never really liked running much. I just used it as cross-training for a day or two most weeks, never went farther than the 7 miles (12k) of San Francisco’s (in)famous Bay to Breakers run.
And I wasn’t doing so many push-ups. Hmm. I got back to work on those and am back up to about 10 & still increasing, so no aging problem there. Balance? Nope, with all the dance classes I take, I can claim to have better balance than all the silly tests we keep seeing think a 30-year-old should have. Endurance? My bike rides right now are maxing out at about 30 miles, but I fully expect to work back up to 50 over the next month or two.
We moved four years ago to a Lifetime Care Community, a place that offers independent living, where you pretty much get on with whatever you were doing before you got there, assisted living if/when the need arises, skilled nursing (primarily for recovery periods when you’ve been released from the hospital but can’t quite be on your own yet), and memory care. Sounds sort of, well, weird, to want to live at such a place when we are still so healthy and active, right?
This community has taught me more about aging than I ever thought to learn, and I have never regretted our move. That is only a tiny bit due to one silly little thing: I never expected to go around saying, well, I’m only 70! I have met dozens of people here who are in their 90s and still taking brisk, hilly walks pretty much every day. I have learned about technology, history, sustainability… the list is long. People here are vigorous, intellectually challenging and fun to be around. And this is a feminist blog, so I can happily add that women are, on average, holding things together longer than men. Which brings me to a concept I read about before I moved here.
Squaring the Aging Curve.
I get a weekly bicycle newsletter in which one of the writers pushed the concept. He had believed that we can keep right on doing a lot of the active things we enjoy. We just might have to slow down a bit. Or maybe not. He didn’t think it would extend our years, but rather than it would keep us feeling better longer, with perhaps a steep drop off at the end. In fact, that is exactly what happened to him. He was still riding his bike in mountainous terrain when he died suddenly. I admit I don’t know much about the science behind this. I don’t even know if it has been tested in any way. We do know that people who exercise more tend to be quite a bit healthier than people who don’t move much. I do see that people who contribute to my community intellectually, musically, artistically, and who are often to be seen at the gym or out walking, seem to be a lot better off than I ever dreamed I’d be if I reach their ages. I plan to follow that thought for as long as I can!
I admit to being a chronic optimist. To prove that I don’t go too far in that direction, I will comment on a few elements of aging I could do without: getting up to visit the bathroom most nights; sagging, sensitive skin (I don’t burn at all easily & have had a hard time accepting sunscreen – but have grudgingly done it), plus there are more saddle sores; fussier vision, including reading glasses & cataract surgery; dreaded colonoscopy, but lots of years between them.
Sure, it’s not all easy. With a little luck, though, I think we can breeze through it longer than I expected. I see the fitness everyone here aspires to as an amazing head start to a great old age.
Bio
I am a lifelong Californian. My mother and father were not born here but moved to the state as small children. I have two grown daughters and five wonderful grandchildren. I spent my working life working at, and eventually running, the family insurance business. My father had introduced many employee benefits – sabbatical starting in 1970, optional four-day work week in 1972, elimination of all official work time rules in 1974. Adults like to be treated as adults, and people tended to stay a long time, so it was a very pleasant working environment with key elements of trust and respect. I also served on a couple of independent school boards, one a strong academic school serving grades 6-12, one a school designed to start helping city kids who had suffered the ongoing effects of racism & poverty to find opportunities they might not as easily discover without support. I live at a Lifetime Care Community where I serve on the finance committee and chair the sustainability committee. I also plan to join the newly formed fitness committee. And for fun, I have ridden my bicycle across North America. Twice.
First, I rode my bike to the gym. I love doing that, but it’s complicated since I go to work straight after and often have my laptop and clothes with me, and I fret about rain and about theft. See Sam bikes to her new fancy gym!
But today it all worked out fine. No big meetings so I’m at work in sweatpants and a College of Arts hoodie. (Normally, Sarah drives me to my office after personal training but she had to leave early for an important presentation so I cycled there and to campus after.)
I went back to Sam’s Thursday post in the third week of April 2015 (11 years ago): The rules of cycling rewritten. It was composed of three linked posts and Phil Gaimon’s 3-minute video, New Rules of Cycling.
Sam’s two linked posts describe observations about some negative aspects of cycling she was seeing at the time, focusing on machismo and fussiness.
I found through the Wayback Machine the youth sport UK’s 27 rules for young cyclists, which emphasize respect, consctientiousness, and reality checks during training and races. The rules advise young cyclists to reject egotism and meanspiritesness and embrace competition while still seeing the bigger picture.
Finally, conplete with a makeshift outdoor office, a Cookie Monster mug, and his bike behind him, Gaimon shares general etiquette cycling rules that reject elitism and encourage safety and inclusion. And waving, as Sam notes in her OP.
If I had to boil it all down, the “new” cycling rules in 2015 were to Be Kind To Others and Be Kind To Yourself.
I think Sam’s post from eleven years ago is evergreen, not throwback. As a curious but hesitant road and gravel cyclist, I might not have even joined the sport of cycling a few years ago if I’d have known how gate-keepy it could be. I’m grateful for these posts because the culture of any sport is learned behaviour. As a novice, I only benefit from more seasoned riders who model and encourage unlearning the “old” rules that would have excluded me. Marc and Fred at the LCC lead in this way.
Longtime FIFI cyclists: have the “new rules” from over a decade ago become just “the rules” today? What’s changed, and what’s still the same in your cycling world?
In 1998, we were traveling in Australia. That was a lifelong dream of mine. As far back as 4th grade I read books about animals. I began dreaming about parts of the world where they were widespread and different. Now, at last, with Bruce (my husband), daughters, and friends, we were there. This day we were in Queensland. We had seen the Barrier Reef, the giant clams, the enormous cod and all sorts of colorful creatures. Then, off to dinner and a good night’s sleep.
I woke up to find one of our friends sitting next to me, chin on hand, staring thoughtfully. He’s a doctor. My husband & I shared a room with a good friend whose mobility is severely limited (we’ve been good friends since high school). She told me I’d had a grand mal seizure. She had recognized it and, from her experience as a special-ed speech therapist, had been able to talk Bruce through it. The others had called a local doctor. He arrived, checked a few things then asked, “Do you know where you are?” I looked around. The whole thing had, to me, a pretty Alice in Wonderland feeling. Dream-like. I hadn’t thought to question anything. But now, I realized I had no idea where I was. A trip planned for 30 years, and it was gone?
Fortunately, the memory of everything through the previous evening came back. And the doctor said we could continue to travel (phew) but I’d need a cat scan if it happened again. He thought I’d had “a one-off fit.” So we finished the trip, but when I got back home, I went straight to my doctor, who sent me to a neurologist, who got an MRI, which showed the tumor. Surgery followed, then lots of MRIs & follow-up care. And, since my tumor was very low grade, a projected life expectancy of 10-15 years. In the brain cancer world, that is great. But for the 46-year-old hearing it, not so great.
Once I had grown somewhat accustomed to my new reality, it occurred to me that I’d better give up procrastination. I suppose we all think of that as a pretty good new year’s resolution, but this time, I meant it, and I followed up. And one of my top priorities had been to get back in shape. I had been running the family business and raising daughters, and there just wasn’t a ton of time out there. My daughters were, by now, away at college, so that excuse was no good any more. So I got a stationary bike – the old kind with nothing but a seat, handlebars and pedals. And I put in a half hour every day, and it began to make quite a difference.
After a few months, Bruce kept telling me how boring that was, and that I really needed to get out on a real bike. Eventually, I caved in, and got a hybrid bike and began to take cautious rides along local paths. I got up to 5 miles! Ten miles! He got me out to ride to a local reservoir, a ride that included some traffic and a final climb of 100 feet or so. I thought, 1) I might die from the effort, and 2) I must have climbed something roughly equivalent to Mount Everest.
And one more change, and then another: I joined a women’s bike club; I cured tendinitis caused by lugging the heavy hybrid bike onto the commute train by buying the road bike the shop guys recommended; I was so impressed by the lightness & easy riding – once I had overcome my fear of such a delicate vehicle – that I signed up for the following year’s AIDS ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles.
And so many things followed. More AIDS rides (there’s quite a story there, since when I finished the first one, I said to myself, well, I’ll never have to do that again!); lots of touring and leading local endurance training rides, some running, some strength training, some yoga, and lots and lots of tap dance. That was already a regular thing – my older daughter was in STOMP! for a couple of years & we went to tap festivals together.
Somewhere in the fitness journey, I stumbled across this blog, and loved it! I can go on with my stories, but first I want to thank all of you who write here for the inspiration and support you have given. And to apologize for the somewhat haphazard pace of my comments. I have comments in my head for almost every post I read, and only seem to get a few of them out to you. So thanks so much for all you have done to help this journey!
Quick Bio: I am a lifelong Californian. I have a husband, two daughters, and five grandchildren. I spent 40+ years in the family business, taking over when my father retired. I have served on a couple of school boards and worked with several non-profits and several individuals who needed help. My lucky life makes me very eager to pay it forward. My current fitness makes me very eager to see the world from a bike saddle.
Me at about age 10 with what I think was my second bike. 3 speeds, and we often had to wear dresses. Me holding my bike overhead at the half way point on the AIDS ride from SF to LA. The third is a picture of me and Bruce having ridden up Waimea Canyon on Kauai.
It’s been a wet week for #30DaysOfBiking and also a very busy week at work, and so I missed a bunch of days.
And on our way into personal training at Movati, Sarah and I spotted this sign below. A very cheerful woman at the front desk saw us looking at it and said, hey I’m teaching the Glow ride on Saturday. You should come. It’ll be fun.
So that’s where I was this morning. (Sarah was off helping to put in the docks at the Guelph Community Boating Club. That’s a different kind of workout that involves waders.)
How was the Glow Ride? I liked the aesthetics–dark with glow sticks. The instructor was friendly and helpful. I love that they offer earplugs if you’re concerned about the loud music. I didn’t take them, but I liked that they were on offer.
Movati has new bikes which display all the things: power, cadence, speed, and distance. They’re easy to adjust for seat height. As usual, I hate all the dancing around on the bike. I’m also not a fan of upper-body exercises on the bike with tiny weights. But there was lots of the stuff I do like, climbing and sprinting. I didn’t have any bad effects with my hiatal hernia but I made sure to eat a few hours before the class, not right before. I also didn’t do anything too intense. See here for why.
Anyway, it’s a very rainy weekend and we’re back to chores and weekday work stuff that’s spilled over, way over, into the weekend. But it felt good to get some movement in.
I’m adding an island to my cycling list! This weekend I rode on Pelee Island. I joked that since I’m not riding in the United States these days, I needed to seek out the southernmost island in Canada.
I’ve got a bit of a thing about island bike rides. Bora Bora was the most exotic. Big Island is the one I ride around most often. And I love riding in Newfoundland. I’ve also biked on Fakarava, an atoll, a special kind of an island.
Why do I like biking on islands? First, there are very few cars on the small islands. Most people get there by ferry and locals appreciate the visitors. Also, I love riding within sight of the water.
I booked this trip the day Parks Canada opened up reservations for the national parks. I wanted to do an early trip and so searched for “roofed accommodation” as Parks Canada calls it. I reserved an Otentik in Camp Henry in Point Pelee National Park.
It’s a bit early for biking, brrr, and for seasonal migratory birds. But it was sunny and beautiful and not at all crowded. The temperature was 10 in the middle of the day, but it went down to 2 overnight. Most importantly, no rain. It was brilliantly sunny all day.
We’re at the time of year when the weather is either sunny and cool, or warm and wet. Here’s next week in Guelph. Warm and wet days ahead.
What’s an Otentik? They’re platform tents, kind of like yurts. Lux camping, but I think not quite glamping. The otentik had lights and heat and sleeping for six. But no bathroom and no water on the site.
They come with BBQs, and food is supposed to be prepared and eaten outside. There’s animal proof food storage locks on each site. That’s not for bear protection. Instead, the campground is home to many well-fed happy raccoons. One kept joining us at our table and looked like he expected his own plate. He wasn’t a scruffy urban raccon. He looked like a plump, happy cartoon raccoon.
Pretty much everyone staying in Camp Henry was up early in the morning with either binoculars, bikes or both. We had both, but to be clear we’re not birders, though our friend Rob, who visited is a retired mathematician and beginning birder.
We were definitely not Camp Henry’s usual demographic, though. We were very outnumbered by families with small children. That makes sense given that Otentiks sleep 6 with bunk beds. They’re not cheap, the Otentiks. I think we paid about $150/night. My adult kid Mallory was going to join us, but she got a better offer involving handbells in Mississauga.
It’s 15 km from the campground to the ferry to Pelee Island, about half of it on a gravel trail through the woods, which is about perfect as these things go. The trail is just hilly and curvy enough to feel exciting without really requiring any technical riding skills. The point is skinny enough that, though we were riding in the woods, we could see the lake almost the entire time.
The ferry to the island is about an hour and a half long. And yes, it serves coffee and sandwiches. We needed both.
The island itself is interesting. There’s a ferry from Ohio and one from Ontario. There are three bike routes around the island. The longest is 30 km. We opted for 20 km.
The island’s year-round population is about 230 people, and in summer, more than a thousand. It’s less developed than I thought it would be. The place we had lunch, The Dog & Goat Restaurant, is open year-round, but only on weekends until tourist season. We enjoyed a patio lunch along with some of the ferry staff.
There’s a school on the island. The internet says that they have two teachers and about nine pupils across all grades.
And when the ferry stops for the winter, and the lake freezes, as it did this year, residents rely on daily plane service to get on and off the island.
What else to tell you about biking there? It’s flat. Almost no traffic. Roads are a mix of pavement and gravel, but the pavement is pretty rough. Locals seemed pretty happy to see us. I think there’s a bike rental shop there in tourist season, but we’re early for that.
Total distance: 50 km (30 km to and from the ferry plus the medium route around the island)
That was likely too much riding for our first outdoor ride of the year (other than bike commuting and Zwifting). There was a lot of soreness and complaining when we were through. Sarah did make excellent BBQ grilled mushroom and spinach risotto for a recovery dinner. Yum!
I used to wonder why people had to work up to 100 km, why a century was a big deal. Back when I was riding regularly with a bike club, we started the season at 60 km, and then the next week 80 and then soon after that 100 km. Easy peasy. Now I don’t have that kind of mileage in the tank, and it’s also harder on the body when you’re not drafting, and you’re riding on gravel trails.
Anyway, I’ll end this rambly post by saying that we want to go back. Soon! We want to canoe in the marshes and explore the park more purposefully. This trip focused on the island, and next time we’ll focus on the point.
Trees over our campgroundOur otentik porchThe ferrySarah, Sam, Rob selfieSo sunny! Patio lunch on Pelee IslandStudying the bike mapsWe made it to the point Pelee island home of the lighthouseA bird approved bike stopSam and SarahThe island roadBike pathThe lookoutMy favourite treeThe wagons for getting stuff to your siteWant! It’s a LOLO bike rack.Bye Camp Henry! We’ll be back.
Week one is done. How did I do? Much better than anticipated, considering that I barely rode all winter, and the weather hasn’t been cooperating.
I missed April 1 because I didn’t even decide this might be a fun thing to do until at least April 2. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do the entire month because my (delayed) surgery is scheduled for April 20.
I did get out for the next three days. Then I missed Easter Sunday with the legitimate excuse that I had to cook the family dinner and haul it 25 km to my Mom’s (and bring home all the dirty dishes).
I got back at it Tuesday but missed Wednesday because of the weather and general tiredness. I couldn’t figure out the right clothes to go to work when it was -10 with the wind chill, but go home at +7.
I could have ridden to the hockey game that night and brought my bike home on the bus (or even ridden home) if a) I had remembered to charge my lights or b) remembered that busing home with my bike was an option. Oops.
By yesterday, I had the full-on cycling itch so went for a ride around the neighbourhood just for fun. It was my longest ride since last October and it felt great to be out admiring other cyclists, the runners, walkers, babies, dogs and geese enjoying the spring air.
A peaceful little island on the Rideau River. My bike is leaning against one of three red Muskoka chairs where you can sit and enjoy the view. If you know where to look, you’ll see the Peace Tower on Parliament Hill, and a common merganser swimming by.
I’ll probably only ride for another week this month, but I’m excited to feel brave enough to be out on two wheels again.
Whatever the weather outside, it’s definitely spring here in Ontario. And for those of us with summer fitness ambitions, it’s time to ramp up our outdoor activity levels. April 1st is kind of the outdoor hiking/biking/running/paddling January 1st, if you know what I mean. There’s no more winter-weather excuses. It’s time to get out there and do your thing.
(Yes, I know Spring Equinox was March 20th, but for me, it’s really April 1st that feels like the first day of spring.)
I’m looking at the calendar and counting down the days until #30DaysOfBiking begins. (I’ve also got my trainer at the ready in case of snow, freezing rain or other forms of wintry mix get in the way of my outdoor riding plans.) See April’s Gonna Be Pure Joy, Baby
I’m also thinking of trying something new for April 1st, adding a second low-stakes fitness intention. I’m calling it the New Path Protocol.
As a cyclist, I am a total creature of habit. I have my “standard” 20km loop I can sneak in before work, my fave weekend 50 km route, my everday “quick” commute, and my scenic “take the long way” route to campus. I worry that I’ve lived here in Guelph for 8 years and there is still a lot of the city and surrounding area I don’t know.
The New Path Protocol is simple: Commit to taking a different route on my bike at least once a week. Choosing a path just to explore on my daily commute is an act of curiosity. Taking a new path might mean finding beautiful gardens on a side street I usually skip, or on the weekend, on my longer rides, it might mean discovering exactly which gravel trail is currently an unridable swamp. I’m in! Either way, it’s about exploration, not about speed or distance. At the start of the cycling season, I think it will feel good to have some low stakes goals. After all, I’m not a cycling beast anymore!
What about you? Are you a creature of habit who takes the same loop every time, or are you ready to join me in getting a little bit lost this April?
