Tag Archives: Thomas Voeckler

30.6: “As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen”


Dear Little Ring,

My sweet, sweet baby who is no longer a baby.

You are the boy who I swear went from two to two and a half in the blink of an eye.

The boy who used to let me cuddle him for hours, but who now can’t stay still for more than a second and more often than not squirms when I try to sneak in a hug or kiss. Sigh.

The boy who’s been talking for some time now, but only now has truly become a proper parrot as evidenced by your beloved copycat phrases: grody and boogers; oh my gosh; and, oh man, I try not to explode laughing when I hear it, HOLY CRACK!

The boy who is so full of thrill and adventure. “Where am I going?” is the first question you ask in the morning, and one of the last you ask before your eyes take their final flutter of the evening. On your bike, it’s down ramps, stairs, dirt piles, up slides and giant rocks that you most like to be. And at the playground, your eyes are so focussed on the big kids, so eager to do as they do. Your arm pointing, “I want to do that!” Whether it be ride the big swing, climb the ropes “to the top!” or hang from the monkey bars.


The boy who likely is one of the only two and a half year olds in North America talking about Jacque Anquetil and Eddy Merckx every day, (who sadly are currently in the hospital) along with their cycling buds Thomas Voeckler, Andy Schleck, Bradley Wiggins, Jan Ullrich, Francesco Moser, and “Cippollini!!!”

The boy who doesn’t know his mama is different, but knows her differences. You know that honey and dried apricots are part of my medicine. You know that the machine attached to me at all times, tempting as it is for you to press the buttons, is part of my medicine. You point to my blood testing tattoos, “What’s that?” you ask. And because I don’t know how to explain it in a way that you, a two and a half year old, will understand, I tell you straight up it’s my callouses. And again, with your reply, you blow me away with the incredible sponge of your knowledge, the eyes of your wisdom. You know it’s not a fun thing, you know it’s not a nice thing, you know it’s not a pleasant thing. “It hurts,” you say, as though you too have felt the lifetime of multiple daily finger stabs.

You may not feel it, but you see it, I know you see it.

“You eat your owie?”

Ah, yes, leave it to you my dear child to point out that grody little habit of mine I’ve had for oh, going on 28 years now, that no other will.

Every day you make me laugh, you lighten my world, you warm my heart. Every day you ask “You want to play with me?” And every day, today, tomorrow, an infinity number of days from now, I say yes. I will always say yes.

Forever. Love.

“If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.” ~ Winnie the Pooh

I will conquer you!!!

So yesterday, I got the biggest, dustiest, slice of humble pie handed to me by Big Ring and his bike; admittedly, I kind of deserved it.

I wanted to show Big Ring how awesome Holly Goquickly was on the hills. And I could have shown him respectfully, but no, that’s not me and my silly competitive way. In the first 5 km of the 60 km ride, on the second giant hill of the day, I was coming up quickly on his heels. In good fun, I shouted out “Come on pokey, what’s the hold up?” The next hill, I got up on my pedals and kicked them into overdrive. As I swept past Big Ring and Lapierre, I shouted out “Eat my dust sucker!!!”

Big Ring eating my dust 😉

But the thing is, you don’t challenge Big Ring in his element and expect not to be challenged back. For the remainder of the ride I was eating his dust! But I didn’t let it break me, nope. Every time he became but a dot in my peripheral vision, I’d get the voice of Jens Voigt in my head – “Shut up legs! Do what I tell you!” – and I’d speed up until I was back on his wheel again. Coach NZ, you would have been so proud 😀

For our ride, we opted for farmland instead of the city.


While we spent the majority of the day chasing llamas, cows, and breastfeeding foals, climbing tree-lined hills and zooming down into gulleys, it was the final hill of the day that had all my focus. It’s a hill I know well; a hill I spent many of my elementary days walking and cycling to and from my childhood BFF’s house; a hill Big Ring climbed on our wedding day; a hill that nearly killed me the last time I tried riding up it; a hill we call Killer Hill!

But yesterday, it never once occurred to me that I would not conquer this hill. I had confidence. I knew Holly Goquickly’s capabilities. I knew my capabilities. I knew I could get up that hill. And as soon as we turned onto the street of Killer Hill, I started chanting my mantras loud and strong:

I will kill you Killer Hill!
I will conquer you!
I will get to the top!
I will be on my bike!
I will not stop!

As we drew closer, I slowed my pace, my fingers twitching at the ready to shift into the lower gear. I started climbing. Straight up, it got tough real fast. I stood on my pedals, my torso curved forward, my head and chest so far over my handlebars, I had no idea how I was not going over them. I started zigzagging, felt like I was on the Alpes D’huez, I was doing it, I was climbing, I was breaking that hill, the negative thoughts were nowhere to be found. Six hundred metres to go, 500, 400… and then, it happened. I had zigzagged too far left, went into the other lane, thought oh crap, probably shouldn’t do that given the winding road and the blind spots, and the fact cars coming the other way would not see me in time, I pulled my handlebars right, a little too right, I was headed straight for the ditch, I couldn’t pull myself back – OH CRUD! Note: I said something far worse and far louder than that when my shaking feet unclipped inches from the ditch and I knew there was no getting back on that bike. I had just 3-400 metres to go. Are you freaking kidding me 😦

With Holly Goquickly under me, I waddled up to my childhood BFF’s house where I climbed back on (cursing the entire way) and completed the hill.

I so wanted this photo to be a victory fist bump in the air photo, but I had to opt for my best Thomas Voeckler tongue out impersonation instead.


  • 10:30 a.m. BG before: 6.4
  • Temp. basal: none
  • Carbs: Zbar 1/2 hour prior, no bolus (18g)
  • Distance: 60.37 km
  • Time: 2:50:25
  • Average speed: 21.3 km/hr
  • Fuel (no bolus): @11:15 (4.3) 2 peanut butter and honey quarters and half a tube of Pocket Fuel nut butter. @11:50 (6.4) half a tube of Pocket Fuel nut butter. @12:45 (5.2) 2 peanut butter and honey quarters.
  • 3 p.m. BG after: 4.2

Killer Hill, I will one day conquer you!