Living Life as It Happens: the Day I Got a Big Surprise

On June 1st the #GCCCanada started.  Again as last year my goals are the same: 100 km and $500. 

As many of you already know #GCCCanada has become a large part on my personal journey towards recovery from workplace abuse.  It gave me the motivation to get on my adapted bike, now named Freedom Hope, and start challenging myself to ride.

In my younger days, I used to ride a 5 speed Schwinn which was built like a Sherman tank and just about as heavy, somewhere in the vicinity of 5-10 miles a day.  I wanted to do that again.  However, ongoing challenges with balance issues - and other brain related things - prevented that.

UNTIL I decided to change the way I was attempting to ride.  I went to a local bike store, talked with one of the young men there and together we came up with this: 

Heading back from where we turned around on the group ride.
Wearing my colours proudly.

A regular 7 speed bike with adult training wheels for the balance problems.

It works.

However, after relearning how to ride in a local parking lot - going round and round and round again in both directions, I stopped riding again.

I wanted to actually be able to go places, to ride to a coffee shop, to ride out of town, even to ride to do errands.

However, the terrain wasn't allowing that to happen.

Completing my first group ride ever - the Cataract trail
(again something I never though I could do).

What I call my "hood" is triangle shaped and composed of dead end streets inside the area.  Bounding my "hood" are major arteries, some in town, some now, one river and hills.  In any direction I go, there are hills.  Some more challenging then others.  But hills nonetheless.

I got discouraged.  When I get discouraged I get frustrated.  When I get frustrated, everything stops.

One day, a few years back, I saw the Great Cycle Challenge Canada, a ride to raise funds for research for pediatric cancer at Sick Kids hospital in Toronto, on Facebook.  What was different about this fundraiser from others is that rather than meeting at a certain time, on a certain day, and riding a set route, the participant sets their own goals, both distance and kilometres.  The rider has the entire month of June to achieve her goals and can change them at any time.

This sounded like a possible to me.  So I signed up in 2016 for the first time.

My goals were: 50 km and $50.

I had no idea if I could meet those goals.

I not only met my goals but way exceeded them.

I rode 225 km in that challenge and raised $244.40.  I learned that I could do things I never knew I could do.

I found places in my "hood" that I never knew existed.  I even rode in traffic and on hills.  As my borders and boundaries expanded, I began to come alive as never before.

Pumped up, I signed up in 2017 for a second go round.

This time my goals were 100 km and $500 (gulp).

I definitely didn't know if I could meet either goal - especially the $500 one.  I self funded myself at the very beginning so that other, potential donors, would know that I was willing to put my money where my goal was.

The Great Cycle Challenge features different riders at times, almost all of them on 2-wheeled bikes, proudly sporting their jerseys, with details such as how much they're raised and how many km they've ridden.  I wanted so very much to have that kind of recognition and acknowledgement.  I wanted to belong.

I did meet my challenge of 100 km.  I did meet the  $500 goal a little past the middle of the month of June BUT when I ordered the much coveted jersey, it didn't come and didn't come.  Shipping labels were created but the jersey did not arrive at Canada Poste.  For more than a week, I waited checking the tracking information frequently.  Finally I e-mailed the Great Cycle Challenge - and got no response.  Then I started phoning them - and got the easy answers: it would be taken to Canada Poste for the next shipping which would be soon.  I asked them to follow up and get back to me.

They didn't.

I got frustrated.  I got discouraged.  I stopped all cycling.

Eventually, I did get the coveted jersey, the last day of June.  My anticipation of wearing the jersey proudly for the rest of the challenge, ended. 

So it was with a lot of conflicted feelings that I signed up for my third consecutive year with the Great Cycle Chgallenge Canada.

With the same goals: 100 km/ $500 donations.

Only I decided that I wasn't going to bust my butt to get the $500.  Or if I did, if I really wanted the jersey, I would see how far I could go on the donations before the challenge started on June 1st and I would self fund so that it would arrive in time for me to wear it while riding.

Note:    In this challenge, we set our own goals, we ride any time we want, wherever we want during the month of June.  For that reason, most of us never meet each other and we ride alone.  That is why I coveted the jersey.  That is why I got so discouraged when it didn't arrive.  I wanted to belong.

Freedom Hope and myself getting ready to ride.  A word of explanation: a lot of cyclists raise their bikes above their heads in a victory pose.   With Freedom being clumsy and heavy, this is my adaptation of the victory pose.

Last week, someone from the #GCCCanada called me, as they always do before the challenge begins, to check up. At the end of the conversation, the lady asked me if I had any thing to comment. For once, I said: "Yes". I went on to tell her that their marketing strategy was geared to what I call the "lean and mean", meaning the tall, fit, mostly younger ones with long legs and lighter weight two-wheeled bikes who can cycle rings around me and who can raise more than $1000 in donations BEFORE the challenge starts. 

 I told her how the #GCCCanada has been a vital force in my ongoing road to recovery and told her about the "brain injury" from stress in the workplace that had prevented me from being able to ride again and how a local cycle shop (#KingStreetCycle) had adapted a regular bike for me. I told her some of my victories. She listened! 

I told the listener about last year and the jersey. I told her that since workplace abuse was about isolation and exclusion and also about lack of appreciation, I got discouraged and quit riding. I told all this and more to the listener on the other end of the phone. Then Tuesday, I got a notice from the #GCCCanada that they were gifting me the jersey for this year because they are impressed with my story of recovery! 

A selfie taken on my first ride for the challenge this year in the parking lot where I relearned to ride.

The coveted jersey arrived two days later, on June 1st in time for me to wear it during the challenge.

My new "biking" shoes.  A find at a garage sale I was passing.

But things haven't ended there.  That simple act of acknowledgement spurred me on to do things I didn't believe I could do.

Like raise the entire $500 without resorting to self funding.

Like encouraging me to get on Freedom Hope proudly and ride.

What can I say? I never lost my sense of humour and here it is in full.
Posing with Freedom Hope in my jersey and helmet with bling stilettos.
It doesn't get much better than this.

I know I'm not the meanest or the leanest.

I realize that in reality I'm short and sassy.

Or maybe I should say, strong and courageous.

I'll never be the top of the back.  Rather I'm more the cow's tail. Moooooove.

But I'm OK with that.

I'm learning to be OK with being me.

One Thing Leads to Another

My life is a series of interconnecting threads all involving the same person - me - going in different directions all at the same time.

For the purposes of this blog, I'm separating them out.  Kind of like teasing out the separate strands of knotted yarn.  Especially when they're all different colours connected to different skeins each of which will be used (eventually) for a different purpose.

So right now, we're looking at one skein, one colour of yarn.  A vibrant one.  A necessary one.  One which brings joy to my life.  One which makes me feel vibrant and alive.  

A happy place.

One which has been significant on my personal road to recovery post workplace abuse.

Cycling.

*****

In my life I tend to go with the flow.  I start out with a plan but then it kind of morphs into it's own thing.

Take cycling for instance.

What started as a simple goal to get out of my house and become more active morphed into a journey of sorts.

A journey of adventure.

It began with a parking lot cycling round and round and round again - in both directions.

Then it morphed into challenging myself to master what we locally call the Lancaster Hill - because it's a steepish hell on Lancaster Street.

I mastered that hill - once - two years in succession.  On my first mastery, I found myself sitting on large rocks outside the Tim Hortons which sits at the top of this hill breathing heavily, resting to get enough strength to go back down the hill and home.

I stopped a passer by who gladly agreed to capture this moment of victory on my cell phone.

I'm inordinately proud of every milestone I make on this road to recovery.  Especially this one on this bike.

She's exactly what I need to be able to ride again, but she is one heavy sucker.   She's also not as manoeuvrable as a two-wheeled bike.

What can I say?

She gets the job done.

By the way, she now has a name: Freedom Hope.

Just in case you're interested.

The adventure morphed some more once I got a car with a trailer hitch so my bike could be taken to different areas.

I have a fertile imagination.  That fertile imagination led me - and my bike along with my long sufferin', ever lovin' husband - to Tobermory, Ontario at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula.

No major reason except that I just wanted to and that Tobermory is part of my "comfort zone" in ways as we've been there many times over the past

The weekend that worked for us turned out to be the weekend of Tobermory's annual ChiCheemaun festival named after the ferry which takes people and vehicles across Georgian Bay on one side and Lake Huron on the other to Manitoulin Island and from there to the Trans Canada Highway.

Cycling Tobermory was more of a challange than I had bargained for.

For one thing there were hills.  Lots of them. All over the place.

Riding an adapted bike has it's good qualities - and it's negative ones.  It's not as maneuverable as a two-wheeled bike.  It's not lean and mean.  More like overweight and clumsy.

It does get the job done, but has it's own challenges.  I discovered much to my chagrin that some of the roads are built on a slant.

My bike with that extra pair of wheels on the bike doesn't do slants.  It tends to develop a mind of it's own and go one way or the other.  Hence the middle picture.  Freedom Hope bucked me off.  Fortunately it was a soft landing.

Riding around Tobermory led me to cross paths with with this cardboard and duct tape monstrosity: a "rubber duck" cardboard boat for the annual cardboard boat race in Little Tub Harbour in the heart of Tobermory.

It was hysterical.

One of the best experiences I've had in my journey of recovery.

In addition, while talking with the family who built the duck boat, I discovered that a huge, six story tall rubber duck was coming to Toronto Harbour for Canada's 150th anniversary of Confederation.

Which led to another adventure.

Not to Toronto.  Oh no.  Hubby does not like big cities.  However, we discovered that this giant rubber duck was going to make a short tour of Ontario.

The next stop after Toronto was Owen Sound which is a day trip for us.

We got there early.  And just walked around.  Me with my camera around my neck taking pictures of anything that caught my fancy.

No, I didn't have my bike with me.  I did have my camera and my hubby - which were just as good.  Actually, even better.

Just going out and doing things makes a huge difference on the road to recovery.

Looking at the pictures aka memories aka endorphins of that day keeps the journey alive.

The journey that is not just about cycling but about reclaiming what I lost in the workplace:  ME!

After all is said and done, I can definitely say: "I saw the Rubber duck".

And I'll even let you touch me.

Regaining Me: First Steps

The photo above was taken June 7th, 2017 at a high point in my journey toward reclaiming my life post workplace abuse on the #GCCCanada when I mastered what is known locally at the Lancaster Hill - a personal nemesis and challenge.  It took a lot of steps to get to this point. 

It took a lot of work on the general journey toward recovery on many fronts to get there.

It was not just about riding a bicycle after so many years, it was also about discovering and reclaiming what I had left post workplace abuse.

It took pressing forward and not giving up.

It also took learning to be gentle with myself and accepting and valuing myself for what I am now.

It took realizing that I'm not the leanest and meanest in the pack but am closer to resembling the tortoise rather than the hare.  And being OK with that.

It took perseverance, determination and willpower.

My primary motivation was to find a safe way to get out of the house and into the wider world.

In the aftermath of my experience in the workplace, I adapted to a largely sedentary lifestyle, one in which I spent the largest part of each day in one small room in my house.  It goes by different names according to who you ask: the office as it has my computer there; my creation room as I keep yarn, patterns, and project there so I can create in this room; my safe room as only people like hubby and people I deem emotionally safe as allowed inside.

It is basically the only place I felt comfortable.

I wasn't even comfortable in the rest of the house.  And it's a small house.  I would get out of my safe room to go to the kitchen and fix food and then immediately head back to my safe room, my comfort zone.  I would cook and eat supper with hubby in the kitchen and then immediately head back to my safe haven. Ditto personal needs.  The only other room I felt somewhat comfortable in was my bedroom and only then if I were huddled under the covers with a pillow over my head thus creating my own personal safe space in which to read, sleep and pray.

Therefore, this was a huge step forward on my personal journey of recovery post workplace abuse.

*****

My first attempt at getting into shape to ride for my first GreatCycleChallenge stint did not go well.  Okay.  It went very poorly.  My idea was to ride my bike on the sidewalk to the nearest corner - a whopping distance of three houses.  The bike though had a mind of its own refusing to cooperate at all.  It would not go in a straight line.  It veered this way, than that like a bucking bronco trying to throw me off.  To make matters more humiliating, I had an audience - my 20 something male neighbour's child who was tidying up his parents' front garden.  I kind of semi sort of made it to the cross street then wisely decided to dismount and walk the thing back home.  Again passing my neighbour.

It turned out that the tire was flat, the odometer wasn't working because it needed a new battery and I think a few other things were amiss.  My ever lovin', long sufferin' hubby made these things right.  It's amazing how much better a bike works when there is air in the tires.

Things went a lot better after that, and I slowly built up confidence, speed and endurance.

My primary goal was to ride 50 km during the month of June and raise $50 for paediatric cancer research at Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto.  Neither of which I was 100% certain I could reach.

However, I had goals within that goal.  Secondary goals. Personal goals.

I wanted to be able to ride 5-10 miles (notice the change in measurements from miles to km and back again?  I did my first riding back in my 20s in the States hence the miles, now I live in Canada hence the kilometres).

 I wanted to be able to ride a set route which involves hills and country riding.

I wanted to be able to ride my bike to Uptown Waterloo which I believe is a distance of some 5-6 km and again involves hills.

I wanted to be able to use my bike as a secondary means of transportation.

I wanted to master what is known locally as the Lancaster Hill.

Most importantly, I wanted to get into better shape physically - and mentally.

Then there were what I call objectives.  There's a bike route/path from Niagara Falls Ontario to Niagara on the Lake, Ontario which I'd seen on day trips there and I wanted to cycle it at least in part.

I wanted to cycle the bike path along the Welland Canal at least in part.

I wanted to reclaim me.  Whoever that is now post workplace abuse.

I wanted to see how far I could go.

To accomplish some of these goals and objectives, I needed a car equipped with a trailer hitch for a bike carrier.

I needed the help of a collaborator, and hubby became a willing participant and even encourager in all of this.  He found bike trails for me - and transported me there and back.

He kept an eye out for me when I rode - and still does.

And by the end of the first cycle challenge, I'd accomplished more than I thought was possible.

Reclaiming Me

In my mind, I'm lean and mean flying like the wind on my light weight 10 speed Raleigh Grand Prix.  Long legs pumping.

In reality?  

Ummmmm ... the reality is far different from the dream.

I'm not over six feet tall.   I'm not lean and mean.  I'm not n my 20's anymore.

My legs are short.   So is the rest of me. I'm a bit overweight. And I'm over 60. Well past my prime.

However, adapting to everything that life and workplace bullying has thrown at me and getting out and riding again is still satisfying.  Oh so satisfying.

Even if I am an overwide load.

*****

In my 20's I started riding a bike.  The idea was to get healthier and to provide transportion while a university student.  My bike at the time was a green five speed Schwinn.  It was sturdy.  Built like a Sherman tank - and weighed about as much.

After university, I still rode that bike for exercise.  I got so I could go 5-10 niles a day.  I was still short, but leaner and meaner then.

When I moved to Texas, the bike went with me.  Again, we rode 5-10 miles a day in heat, in wind (which always blew), in sun.

I eventually got my leanest and meanest bike ever - a 10 speed, brown Raleigh Grand Prix - which I still have.  The problem was I was living in a border area where it was not safe for a woman to ride alone.  So eventually I stopped riding.  When I moved to Canada, my bike moved with me.

After all was said and done in the workplace, I wanted to ride again.  I wanted to feel free.  But I never got into the groove again.

The problem was, I was no longer lean and mean.  The aging process and the chronic affects of PTSD post workplace bullying/abuse and a few extra pounds gathered along the way, changed things for me.  Aging has caused some stiffening in joints that wasn't there when I was in my 20's.  The chronic after effects of what I survived in the workplace, affected my balance (among other things) that also weren't there when I was in my 20s.  Getting on - and sometimes off - the lean and mean 10 speed Raleigh Grand Prix was a problem.  Once on, I could ride as long as I kept going.  The problem is there are times you have to start and stop.  After I fell off the bike in the middle of the road, I gave it up as a bad idea.

BUT ... I still wanted to ride again.  So my analytical skills went into gear.  After analyzing and getting ideas from the web, I went into the local bike shop. King Street Cycles in Uptown Waterloo.  The picture below is what we came up with to deal with both issues: training wheels for balance; a step through which we used to call a girl's bike back in the day for arthritic joints.

Definitely not lean and mean.  More like overwide, slow and wobbly.  But it got the job done.

It turns out that my mind was so fractured that I actually had to relearn to ride a bike.  I know they say that you never forget how to ride a bike; however, the mythical "they" have probably never encountered what workplace abuse plus stress can do to the human brain.  I literally had to relearn how to brake, how to turn - both directions, and how to change gears.  Thankfully there is a church in our area and I used their parking lot to regain my skills.  I also discovered that I not only could not walk in a straight line - which I already knew - but I couldn't ride in a straight line.  Which made riding on sidewalks and in bike lanes were problematic.

However, after I relearned how to ride a bike again, I needed more space than I could get within the confines of my small "hood".  I wanted to be able to go 5-10 miles a day.  I wanted to go out of the city - which isn't that far as I live three blocks within the city limits; but there were problems.  There are hills.  Anyway direction I go, there is going to be a hill.  There are busy streets.  Even the street outside my house which leads to the country is a highway which people use to go back country from one place to another.  There was fear.  There was a lack of comfort level.  So I stopped cycling.

And then

 one day I came across something called the Great Cycle Challenge  which is a fundraiser to raise funds for research for paediatric cancer for Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto.

The difference between this and other bike-a-thons, is that the participant sets their own goals, both monetary and distance.  It is done anytime throughout the month of June.  Since my physical and mental condition is still such that I can't guarantee that I'm going to be functional on any given day, a traditional bike-a-thon where you meet on a certain day at a certain time at a certain place and ride a certain amount of kilometres wasn't and still isn't going to work for me.  But this one had definite possibilities.

So I signed up.  I signed up for $50 and 50 kilometres.  I doubted I could meet either goal; however, I figured out that with a goal of $50 dollars if no one sponsored me, I could do it out of my pocket.  Within 24 hours, a friend had donated $50!  Wohoo!  I couldn't believe it.

That was the start in far away 2016 of an adventure that's still going on.

Another instalment in the office.

Stay tuned for further updates on the adventures of Suzanne on her adapted cycle.