Andy Schleck

Trainer trials and tribulations

Good golly I can’t believe I used to do this for up to an hour, even an hour and a half, at a time! Little Ring: “Tall person with boobies, why are you riding your contraption inside???“ After more than 9 months off the bike, Big Ring pulled Zing out of storage, dusted off the cobwebs, polished her up a bit, and pumped up her tires in preparation for our long-awaited reunion. I’d love to say it was a good one, but as has always been the case, when Zing’s shackled to the bike trainer, it’s more a chore than anything. The bike trainer is nothing like those spring/summer/warm fall days spent in the elements, pedalling hard up the Camosunburg (which isn’t so burg anymore since its repaving this summer), feeling the warm wind whip at my face as I zoom down to Spanish Banks, taking in the scenic views …

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Ask and you shall receive…

I had an absolutely fantastic day yesterday. I didn’t run a super fast race, didn’t get a lingering hug from Andy Schleck, didn’t become a chemistry genius, or get a solid night sleep – all of which would have been pretty darn spectacular – but I did get something that was absolutely out of this world. Yesterday’s tale starts with a text I got from Big Ring on Friday informing me that instead of going for a ride, he had opted for a city day, and in that city day a scrumdiliumptious cherry chocolate ice cream bar from Chocolate Arts was included. Instantly I was jealous. Let me tell you, these bars are friggin amazing! They’re handcrafted from locally made, and super pure, Avalon dairy cream and free range eggs, topped on a perfectly sweet brownie base, and dipped in decadent chocolate. Their flavours, almost all of which are seasonal, …

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Cooking up a baby hiker

As many of you know, Big Ring is convinced we’re having a cyclist, not just a thumb-sucking alien baby, but a world-class cyclist, like a baby Mark Cavendish, or Andy Schleck, or Jeannie Longo kind of cyclist. But me, I’m pretty sure we got a hiker on our hands. Here me out on this. I had to stop running early in the pregnancy, because the activity, no matter how tempered or short it was drastically dropped my blood sugars to near comatose state. I took up the walking, much to my chagrin, but still, no matter how boring that snail’s pace activity was, my blood sugars almost always bottomed out with that one as well. (Maybe the kid was so bored, it had to add some low BG excitement into the mix.) So I pulled out Mr. Foldy, figuring not only would I be sprucing up my athletic pursuits, but …

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Nightmare of sweaty proportions

I know I’m not supposed to do it, and I’ve been real good for quite some time – quite some time! – but sometimes it’s just unavoidable. The doctor had to be summoned. Google Doctor that is. And let me just say copious amounts of calming tea with Bob the Bauble (distant relative of Johnny 5) were needed in dealing with the diagnosis(s) The following information I’m about to spew, I have hemmed and hawed over whether or not to share it. It’s pretty personal, and a little bit embarrassing… actually, scratch that, it’s a lot embarrassing. But when I started this blog almost two years ago, one of the reasons was to connect with a like-minded community, whether that be fellow runners, cyclists, type 1s, etc. So, here goes… [Note: If any of you make fun of me, I will not be opposed to kicking you in the knees. …

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