The RBC GranFondo Whistler – September 10th, 2011…
Seriously?! I still haven’t figured out why I signed up, but I did. 120 kms on the crazy highway to Whistler and I DON’T EVEN ROAD RIDE! The last time I was on a road bike the Village People were chart topping about a rec center and my bike was tricked out with bike-spoked hockey cards, a purple banana seat, and exceptionally pretty handle bar tassels (a guilty pleasure to this day).
What possessed me to add my name to the many crazed road riding enthusiasts of Vancouver?! Yes, I have dabbled a bit in mountain biking, but this “roadie thing” is a whole new monster…and a scary one at that. Getting hit by a car is not on the top of my bucket list nor is picking out pieces of pavement from my body tissue. Although, if it does happen I hear there is a mighty cute doctor patrolling the ER at Lions Gate. Bright side??
So, to answer to my previous question as to why on God’s green earth am I doing this?…hmmm…still trying to figure it out. I am in my late 30’s…cough40cough…a mom of a two and four year old, and my biggest accomplishment in the past five years has been to survive: 1 wedding (while being six months pregnant), two hellish pregnancies, one explosion (long story), one house renovation, one move (with a baby and toddler), and a husband with a bruised cranium. Add in the general day-to-day survival of rearing two high-spirited boys (one with a penchant for biting, hair pulling, and doling out Soprano-esque style kicks when life doesn’t go his way) and let’s just say my ticket to the psychiatric ward is paid in full.
I think I am looking for something for myself. Something that has nothing to do with changing diapers, hearing a question repeated over and over and over and over and over and over (get my drift?), or trying to protect the dog from a toddler tag team bludgeoning. Something that I can call my own. Selfish? Maybe…but a necessity nonetheless. Therefore, I have decided to take up a sport for which I have no bike, no gear, and no f*%#ing clue of what to do or how to ride. EXCELLENT! Not wanting to be thrown to the MAMILS (Middle Aged Men In Lycra) by myself, I have enlisted (aka…blackmailed, coerced, and heavily threatened) some of my girlfriends to join in my journey…to hell. So, now I just have to buy a bike, shoes, helmet, shorts, shirt, socks, and any other accoutrement that I am woefully oblivious to. I think I’ll take this in baby steps. Step one: sign up (check). Step two: buy a bike…hmmm… I wonder if I can get one with tassels??