Random Inner Monologue

On Wednesday night I had an easy 1.5 to 2hr ride to do. I headed out from our place down toward Shawnigan for a loop around the lake before climbing back up toward Goldstream Heights. On the ride, I noticed that my thoughts were pretty all over the place, so below is an approximation of the incoherent inner ramblings that crossed my mind.


“It’s so nice and sunny and hot. This will be good practice for Penticton.”

“Hmm, shade. Oh well. Still nice.”

“Man this road is bumpy.”

“Draycor sucks.”
[I should say, I don’t know anyone at Draycor, but the guys that drive their pick up trucks have almost run me off the road or run me over more times than I can count on early morning runs, so ‘Draycor sucks’ is a pretty regular thing that goes through my head when I see one of their trucks or excavators working].

“Going down… time for the big descent. No cars. Nice. I wonder how fast I’m going. Need to remember to recharge my Garmin before workouts and get a new bike computer.”

“I have forgotten my Garmin a lot lately.”

“I love my bike. I think I’m moving pretty good.”

“It really is beautiful out tonight.”

“Effing car! That was close.”

“Okay, back at it. It sure is different going this way.”
[I rode in the opposite direction from what I normally do (it’s funny the habits we get in), it was definitely nice to change things up a bit].

“Oh, the Galley hill – it doesn’t look so bad from this direction.”

“No, that wasn’t as bad. I like this way better”

“I love fresh asphalt. Nice and smooth”

“Did that guy just yell at me to get off the road?”
[Indeed, he did. I should say, he was going in the opposite direction, and I was well onto the shoulder on my side of the road, so there is no way I could have been obstructing his drive in any way.]

“What is it with young males that make them feel the need to yell at cyclists? What a knob.”
[The guy yelling occupied my thoughts for a while].

“Hills, hills, hills… Not so bad. Yep, this direction is definitely easier.”

“Really, I can’t believe that guy yelled at me”

“Phew, that was tight. I wonder how many cyclists are hit simply because someone is being impatient.”

“Holy crap, that’s the turn. Hmm, looks different from this angle.”

“Shawnigan really is beautiful.”

“Wowza, another close one. If I make it home tonight unscathed that will be a pretty amazing feat. Maybe riding the lake on a hot summer night during peak commuting hours is not the best idea.”

“This is like my own little Paris-Roubaix, I mean, minus the cobbles, but the bumps sure feel like cobbles.”

“I love le Tour de France. Might need to buy a PVR as I'm sorely missing the re-airing at night.”

“Dickwad! Shoulder check next time buddy… oh wait, he’s waving and apologizing, alright, overreaction on my part. He's not a dickwad.”

“Oh gosh, it’s hill time, maybe I’ll get a flat right now and Shane will have to come pick me up, haha.”

“Nope, no flat. Suck it up princess, it’s not so bad and it’s good practice.”

“Hmm, quads are burning a little, but this doesn’t feel too bad.”

“Almost there.”

“Stay relaxed.”

“The top! Sweetness. Mini-fist-pump.”

“Hmmm…. That didn’t take as long as expected, need to add more time. Stebbings? Yep, Stebbings.”

“I love my bike.”

“Did someone steal my shoes?! No way. Oh my gosh, they are gone. Someone stole my shoes!”
[This thought was as I arrived home. I always walk to the top of our hilly, gravel driveway in my ratty old bright pink crocs and leave them there for when I return. I’ve done this plenty of times, and they are always there waiting for me when I get back. Tonight, this was not the case, someone stole my ugly old crocs out of my driveway.]