My life in treadmills...

I guess it's the Catholic in me.

Joy here…Often balancing life - especially travel obligations - and sport don't necessarily go well for me.  I have a history of dropping the proverbial ball when it comes to travelling and maintaining my sporting regimen.

I first realized this when I was training for my first-ever half marathon.  And again and again on this (and my last) blog, I end up rehashing my many failings when I travel (like this post from September, during my first trip back to Canada from Malaysia).

I was good and ate salads!

I fall off the wagon with my training; I eat too much of the wrong stuff; I drink too much; I don't sleep enough.  And when I return home to reality, I end up in an unproductive cycle of self flagellation.

But in the month of March I had to travel from Malaysia to Canada for a jam-packed session of work and socializing.  I'd be in non-stop 14-hour a day meetings; I'd celebrate my dad's 70th birthday with my family; I'd get to visit friends in Toronto I haven't seen in a while; I'd get to meet my friend's new baby son who is thriving after having open heart surgery; I'd get to show the prototype of our essay-drafting software project to interested parties and shareholders; I'd give a presentation at the University of Toronto for PhD students thinking about life outside the academy; I'd give a keynote address for a women's alumnae society etc. etc.  You get the picture: my trip was scheduled as a fully-booked whirlwind extravaganza, and I faced it with terrible trepidation, figuring that all it would take would be a couple of weeks to undermine all the progress I've made with my fitness over the past few weeks.

This is what greeted me upon my arrival.

I was afraid I'd eat crap.  I was afraid I'd do nothing.  I was afraid I'd come back to Malaysia and have to start all over again.

I boarded the plane (incidentally, at the same time and at the same airport as the ill-fated MH370, which, by the way, they still haven't found; but while that plane was bound for Beijing, my first transit was through Istanbul, so I was blissfully unaware of the missing jet for my whole long flight to Canada).

I landed in FREEZING Canadian weather, and while I missed my first planned run, I dutifully found treadmills throughout Canada to use - one at my sister's gym, one at the posh Ritz Carlton hotel in downtown Toronto, one in my dad's gym, one at the airport hotel, and one at the Mandarin Oriental upon my return to KL - so that when I got back, I think I was even in better shape than when I had left.

Treadmills galore...

...the view from the treadmill in my dad's basement...

...the view from yet another treadmill.

Back to self-flagellation again...

Now I'm left feeling a little bit silly for all those times that I travelled and fell off the working out wagon, drank too much, and ate crap.

Now all those other times seem like they were filled with silly excuses.

So now, I'm back to self-flagellation after all.

But at least I'm in shape!

Over and out,
Joy

Long Awaited Robbie McEwen Post

Joy here…I've been swamped by life, swamped by work, swamped by training, and swamped by just having a great ole time here in Kuala Lumpur.

Robbie McEwen winning the Green Jersey (for sprinting)
at the Tour de France for the third time!

But I'm now sitting down to catch up on some of my blog posts, and the one at the top of my list is a little bit of info about my January ride with Tour de France Green Jersey winner, Robbie McEwen.  I mean, even though this is a long overdue post, sometimes things - like wine and cheese - get better with age, and I assume that applies here as well.

One afternoon in January, The Man received a text on his phone from a friend saying "do you know who Robbie McEwen is?"  He showed me the text, and we were both jumping around:  "DO I KNOW WHO ROBBIE MCEWEN IS?  OF COURSE I DO!" The Man was much more cool and collected in his text response to his buddy, but I fired off a quick message, something like:  "OMG! Robbie McEwen! Is he coming to town? Can I meet him? I'm a hilarious dinner guest!"

To make a long story short, while our buddy didn't get us into a VIP dinner with Robbie McEwen, he did get us into a VIP 70km bike ride with him and about 8 other folks.

Yep, so I'm the only girl with these guys waiting for
Robbie to show up!

I was the only girl.

We rolled up to the hotel in downtown KL for the start, met up with Robbie, made a little small talk, and then rolled out through the city streets, complete with a car escort!

We road in a two-person wide pace line (basically two rows of single file riders staying tight together), riding at around 33km/hr over rolling terrain through the city and out to our regular 15km hill to ride up that with Robbie and the rest of the guys.

As the ride began, I was super nervous - Will I be able to keep up? I'm out of shape. Will everyone ride away from me? Will I embarrass myself?  Can I do this? - but as the ride went on, I felt amazing.  My legs responded to the dynamic of the group riding, and the anxiety in my chest and in my tummy faded with each pedal stroke.

Robbie was smooth and relaxed on the bike, riding back through the group to spend time beside each of us - really pro and really classy.

As the pitch of the hill began to creep up up and up, I could see the stronger riders - The Man included - begin to pull away from me.  There were about 5 of them, and I either didn't have the technical skill nor the strength in my legs to keep up with them.

The Man, Robbie, and me!

The good news is that there were about 4 guys behind me dropping fast.  I could still see the stronger group just ahead of me, but those behind me were long gone.

So I settled in and found my rhythm to climb the rest of the way.

I felt strong.  I felt good.

Then the faster guys had turned around and started the descent, when I was only about 1km from the top.  "We're heading back!  C'mon!"  They urged me, so I turned around and followed them, watching The Man and Robbie descend with a skill that I could only admire, but not emulate.

But as I rode down, trusting my bike and trusting my skill, I was able to stay with one of the stronger riders, following his lines.

And to my surprise, when we reached the other, slower, riders down the slope, they were much farther behind me than I was behind the faster guys.  It was quite the ego boost!

Fabian Cancellara powering away to win the Tour de
Flanders for the third time this 2014.

So then we were all tearing down the hill at breakneck speeds, and as we reach a false flat where the terrain rolls ever downwards - my favourite part of this ride - I just pedalled my little heart out.  I was behind that faster guy until he passed a truck and I, being a little more conservative, settled in behind the truck until I felt it was a bit safer to pass.

As I waited, one of the other guys caught up to me, and we rode together for a while.  Once the truck was out of our way, chin on shoulder, I shouted:  "Let's go!"  I shifted into the big ring and rode like Fabian Cancellara.  I looked over my shoulder, and the lean cyclist in full kit who looked like a pro wasn't able to keep up with me.  I was going over 45km/hr, and I just kept on going.

I regrouped at the bottom of the hill and rode home with The Man, Robbie, and the rest, feeling strong and good.  I was able to ride smoothly and easily through the stop lights and KL traffic, feeling at ease and comfortable, while I could hear other riders behind me unable to catch their breath.

As we parked our bikes and sat at the cafe for our post-ride coffee and chat, I felt good about myself.  Not only did I hold my own, I wasn't the slowest or weakest out of our little VIP group.  Sure I wasn't the strongest (obviously that award goes to Robbie), but I wasn't the worst.

And, I was the only girl.

Robbie and me!

I held my own and had a once-in-a-lifetime experience to ride with one of the pros who inspired me and got me into watching and caring about road racing as a fan.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Friday morning in January.

Over and out,
Joy