If it has been a while, then please take this post as a sign to pat yourself on the back, congratulate yourself, and claim your gold star.
And if you congratulated yourself earlier today?
Well, pat yourself on the back, congratulate yourself again, and claim your gold star.
If you’re like me, there will be times when you are really challenging yourself and times when you are just kind of treading water.
Both are good.
In fact, the whole range of ways to show up are all good.
And I’d like you to celebrate every one of them.
I am proud of you for showing up when it’s fun and I’m proud of you for showing up when it’s annoying to be there.
And I hope that, overall, you get more fun than annoyance but here’s your gold star for your efforts either way.
Go Team Us!
I’ve been trying out gold star cards with encouraging text and I like how this one turned out. Image description: a black card with a small painting of a gold star on the left side. On the right side is a piece of white card with rounded corners that says, in black text, “ this gold star celebrates your hard work, the effort you put into showing up every time. Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” The white card is framed in black with a gold frame outside of the black one. There is a thick gold line a little ways under the star that also extends downward underneath the white card.
Thanks everyone who sponsored the Tour de Guelph Gryphons and helped us reach our $1000 team fundraising goal.
We were a small but mighty crew in the end, with Sarah and Amy both having to drop out, but Graham, Abby and I had a fun day on our 50 km rides. It was Abby’s first 50 km. Go Abby! She rode the multi-surface route with her sister and a friend. Graham and I rode the 50 km road route.
I was nervous about the hills since the route took us downhill, past the 401, on Watson and back up into Guelph on Victoria. Graham gets points for patiently waiting at the top and not asking, “What’s wrong?” and I get points for not walking my bike up any of the hills.
There were lots of people riding, more than 800 across all the different distances.
Want to donate to support our team and to help the Guelph General Hospital? There’s still time. Click here.
We have big plans for next year–training rides, Gryphon jerseys, more people and more fun. Hope you can join us!
I just finished reading an advance copy of What We Found Instead, by Heidi Reimer, and it embodied everything I ever want in a summer read: compelling plot, emotional depth, and the kind of writing that makes me go “oof,” because I’ve been hit with a massive truth in a few simple words.
I’m not really a “beach read” kind of person — I don’t spend a lot of time sitting still during the summer. My best summer reads fall into three categories: diverting audio books read by people with clear voices that I can listen to while I’m riding my bike; books with good writing but simple enough structure that I don’t lose track of what’s happening when I read them in chunks on trains or eating solo travel meals; and books that I can wallow into in a hammock. What We Found Instead fits all of those categories.
Set mostly in Ontario, mostly in the north, it’s the story of two women who find themselves in an unlikely orbit when they discover they are both in a relationship with the same man (not a spoiler, this happens in the first chapter). There is plenty of plot, but really, it’s about two women who want more than they have been allowing themselves, and who have to learn to trust themselves and each other to get it. It’s funny and hard and deft and compelling. If you advance order it, and connect with Heidi via her subtack, you’ll also get a delightful prequel sent to your email.
I did get an advance reading copy because I know Heidi, but I’d rave about this book in any case — it takes a lot to penetrate my ADHD/ over busy hummingbird mind these days long enough to care about imaginary people.
My hired bike last year on my solo trip through Normandy.
Since I moved to Nova Scotia, I’ve been trying to spend more focused time reading — and I’m also compiling a list of audio books for hours on the bike, overdue training for a solo cycling trip at the end of August in northern France and Belgium. My current stack includes two beachy froths from Emma Straub and Carley Fortune, Emma Donahue’s The Paris Express, The Midnight Train by Matt Haig which Sam left for me when she and Sarah hung out in my new place before I even moved here, and Black. Single. Mother. by Jamila Lemieux.
What’s on your list? And add Heidi’s book to it :-).
Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede-Desmarais, who is still trying to create order out of chaos in her new little red house by the sea.
What about the 30-30-30 thing? You know 30 minutes of movement and 30 grams of protein within 30 minutes of waking up. I should have realized that wouldn’t work so well for me. I take medication that I need to have on an empty stomach, and then I can’t eat for an hour after. There goes the 30-minute bit. I am pretty good at getting 30 g of protein when I do eat breakfast, and I usually walk the dog, bike to work, or go to the gym most mornings, so there’s the movement covered.
How about the after-dinner digestive walk? Don’t worry. Cheddar is on it.
Since 2017 I’ve been a member of the 2XX workouts in 20XX Facebook group. I’ve always made it– most years screaming in on the last day of the year, sometimes doing two or more workouts to squeak through. But hey, a win’s a win.
Until 2025. I was chugging along until the beginning of fall. Then, for no particular reason, I trailed off. Stopped posting. I felt like I should resume, but I didn’t.
Then in 2026, I restarted, only to stop again after recording 6 or 7 workouts. Hmmm.
I’ve never had an easy relationship with challenges– they bring out my inner belligerent teenager, ready to flip off anyone (including my non-teenaged self) who’s trying to put me on a schedule of (Heaven forbid) self-improvement. But my non-teenaged self knows it’s not really self-improvement I’m aiming at; rather, it’s self-care. Huh.
I’ve been a close-to-daily meditator since the pandemic. Before 2020, I meditated off and on for decades. But the combination of extreme necessity and a handy app (I’ve boosted the Happier app a lot here, but there are loads of them to try) has helped me set up and maintain a practice that works for me. As they say, the numbers don’t lie…
I’ve meditated 308 weeks in a row. Yes, missing a few days here and there, but I’m pretty proud of this.
The co-most important lesson I’ve learned from 308 weeks of close-to-daily meditation (along with “just breathe”) is that the streak that matters is the streak of one. Being and doing at the time is the thing. Not for what it will yield down the road, but for what it does now, in that moment.
Yes, that sounds cheesy. But a) something can be both cheesy and true at the same time; and b) I’m trying to be sincere here, so don’t pick on me… 🙂
Back to the 226 workouts in 2026: It’s June 28, so we’re almost at the six-month mark. I’m restarting a focus on doing and recording workouts as of yesterday. My plan is 113 workouts by the end of the year. I started last night with yoga before bed. That’s one. I can continue with streaks of one at a time.
Time to do some more yoga now.
Dear readers, how do you feel about streaks? Interrupting them, restarting them? I’m not asking for advice here, but it would be cool to hear how these experiences feel for you. I’ll report back in a while on mine.
Feeling open for business. Open to what’s ahead. By Clemens Van Lay for Unsplash.
I swore I wouldn’t repeat the pattern of a quick ramp up to the MS Bike Tour in 2026.
I retired May 1 and I was CERTAIN I would be riding all the time.
That didn’t happen for a bunch of reasons. As June winds down and July approaches my longest ride this year has been 30 km.
I really enjoy riding. It takes me a hour to warm up and then, then it feels like flying. But my speed needs to improve or I’ll be on the road way too long in the hot sun.
Yikes!
The plan today, get out early for 40 km and see how that feels. Then ride Monday, Wednesday, Friday next week. I’m thinking 10-20 km on rides during the week and go for 50 km July 5.
The next week do back to back rides to normalize riding on tired legs.
The MS Bike Tour is July 25 & 26. It’s roughly 85 km each day. I’m totally kicking myself for my procrastinating on riding.
My fundraising goal is $2,000. If you would like to help me reach that you can Donate here
Michel and I look happy and sweaty after a bicycle ride.
There are many people I know that live with MS. A bunch more have dear friends and family living with MS.
For reasons we do not fully understand, Canada has some of the highest rates of MS in the world. We also have amazing research happening that is helping my friends right now.
While I do have challenges riding as a fat, asthmatic athlete with some typical middle age injuries – my body does respond to training. I’m very lucky that a month is enough time to have a decent MS Bike Tour. Not everyone enjoys that kind of privilege.
So here’s to lots of miles & smiles.
Yes, ideally, I would have had a more gradual ramp up since April. But the second best time to start is now so, pitter-patter, let’s get at’r.
This week two birth stories made the news in my corner of the sports world. The reaction to them shows we still have a long way to go in gender equality.
Jérémy Doku, a member of the Belgian soccer team playing in the men’s World Cup, returned to Belgium from the USA on Sunday to be with his wife for the birth of their first child. It meant he missed the game against Iran that day. Many commenters were not kind, to put it mildly. One French commentator even called it “disgusting”.
Doku’s wife gave birth on Monday and both she and the baby are reportedly doing well. Doku is scheduled to be back with the team in time for Friday’s game
Meanwhile, Blayne Turnbull, captain of the PWHL Toronto Sceptres, announced she is expecting a baby in December. Reaction from fans has ranged from “amazing” to “I wonder how maternity leave works in the PWHL?”
Blayre Turnbull and her husband with a stuffed bunny sit in a grassy area with trees in the background. Her husband is wearing a cap that says “Dad” and she is holding a picture of an ultrasound. Image is taken from her Instagram page.
For the record, the PWHL Collective Bargaining agreement says that “the League must continue a Benefits Eligible Player’s base Salary and all other benefits in the event of pregnancy until the earlier of such time as the Player is cleared to return to play by both the Player’s medical doctor and a Team physician or the end of the League Season in which pregnancy-related disability commences.” I’m not thrilled with calling it a disability, but otherwise it’s not a bad deal.
Maybe part of the reaction reflects a slightly older tradition in Canada where women athletes face less discrimination if they choose to have families while competing. Since 2024, athletes funded by Sport Canada no longer have to use their precious injury card for pregnancy. Previously, it would have left them extremely vulnerable should they have an actual injury.
Sure, it’s elite athletes and their reality is different. But it is still very sad to see how toxic masculinity can be cruel to an expectant dad.
It wasn’t unexpected that my Mom died. She had been sick for quite some time. There is still nothing like it when it happens.
I remember feeling like I was living out of body for the first few months. The physical effects of losing one’s Mom, were surprising to me. I knew I would be emotional. I would miss her. A million ways and more. But the physical feeling of a chunk being removed from my being was unexpected.
For the first few months, I overshared my thoughts about my Mom, via video. While it helped me, I was glad when it ran it’s course. I’m sure others were too.
Fitness-wise, I recall continuing to jog through grief and go to classes. I remember the first few classes felt heavy. A blur.
Along the way, things stayed much the same with my fitness routine — I love my running and strength classes. However, the venues changed in some cases. The strength classes moved around and now I have been enjoying a regular place a couple times a week, even though it is a 40 min walk in the morning, to get there. Sometimes, a good friend is there too and that’s a bonus. I also recently tried a new class with a familiar coach and loved it. This is different than the seven or so years I spent going to one place. Overall, change can be good.
I have experienced both old and new sensations while running/jogging, also. Sometime in early spring, the vertigo I experienced a couple of years ago (around the same time of year) returned. One week I had the best post-winter run of the year and the next, the world was spinning again, if I moved to fast and, sometimes, when I was only attempting to walk. Thankfully, I learned some tricks the first time this happened and I was able to move through it and get back to normal running again by the beginning of May.
While running is feeling really good and I am working on getting a good pace back, I am also noticing my body needs a bit more rest in between a long run followed by a heavy strength day. Will age help me listen to that intelligence? Sometimes, I am forced to slow down on “in between days” whether I listen to the messages or not.
A screenshot from Strava of my birthday morning run. 10 minutes slower than last year but much better than a couple months ago. Grateful.
I find myself craving more movement and stretching in my hips and lower body and find myself taking some mornings to simply move through supportive exercises in my living room.
Overall, I have been feeling much more like myself again, for several months. At least — the self that continues to evolve, if we are lucky enough to age. The evolution feels less about the grief of the last year and more like typical 50-something changes, in an ever changing world. A world full of wonders, delights, simple moments, frustration, stress, monotony, sadness, joy and horrors. Yesterday, I was going to add “not bad for 54” to by Strava run comments but I went for “Grateful for another year”. That feeling deepens with each year. The gratitude. The inability to take anything for granted. The immense sense of privilege I have to age – and – in the part of the world where I was fortunate to be born with so many built-in advantages. I hope I learn how to support those less fortunate, in a really useful way, with each year I am granted.
Several years ago, while running, I started using the mantras, “I am. I can. I will. I do” (thank you, Christine D’arcole). Then I added “Thank you”. (Just to my body for being able to do things) “Envision” (when I was looking for a job). I would find that these mantras would automatically kick in, somewhere along the route.
A couple of years ago, when I first had that vertigo problem, I added things like, “Fuck it”, “Just Run”. This was because the vertigo would have me start jogging, stopping within a block because of spinning head.” Starting again. Over and over. This would create more anxiety and make things worse. Sometimes, the most helpful thing to think for my anxious brain was, “Fuck it”, “Just Run!”
This time, when the vertigo returned, but then started getting better, I’ve start adding, “It’s just a feeling”, “Don’t take the short cut”. This helped me get past the stop/starting and into a familiar and pleasant groove.
A boxing coach used to tell us, if people were pushing past a tough point in an abs section or running up a hill, “It’s just a feeling”. Of course, people know when it is more than a feeling and to stop but, if one is feeling good and know they can do it, I find this prompt helpful. It is not just the vertigo. A slow running winter and those middle age aches have required that I get some of my cardio up again so that I can push past my delicious comfort zone, into an even more delectable endorphin dessert. It helps if I remind myself that some discomfort can be nothing but a feeling to move through and past.
Once again, running is not unlike other parts of life – such as moving through grief experienced when losing a loved one. Sometimes you just need to move through it. Sometimes you get to another side where your Mom is there, just in a different way. She is the air that you breathe in and the sunrise on a walk to work or a ladybug on your shoulder. You can’t take a shortcut to move past the uncomfortableness and onto the good stuff.
Nicole P. is moving into another 365 days and ready to adjust as needed and enjoy the ride.
“It’s kind of a miracle I haven’t just passed out.” That’s how Lael Wilcox described the heat exhaustion that ended her bid to break Mark Beaumont’s around-the-world cycling record this week. A European heat wave did what training and grit couldn’t. Reading her words, I felt the particular dread that’s become familiar lately — the recognition that the conditions we plan our riding around are no longer the conditions we actually get.
The increasing summer heat is terrifying, and people are dying. Probably, when there are health warnings against outdoor exercise, it’s not the best time to try to break a world cycling record. I know the loss of summer riding is a small thing compared to all the horrible effects of our warming world.
Me, I’m planning my long-distance rides for the fall. I’m switching it up and moving some of my exercise indoors in the summer. That feels strange and awful, but it’s where we are.
