Jens Voigt

Cycling in America

Not long after crossing the border, with my lactic-acid filled legs pushing Holly Goquickly’s pedals, classic American anthem style music began to fill my ears. Not full songs, just blips; it was as though my mind was switching stations until it found the perfect tune. Born In the USA… nope. Jack and Diane… nope. Don’t Stop Believin’… ohhh yeah. “Just a small town girl, livin’ in a cycling world…” 😀 So last week Big Ring started his annual Tour de France holidays where he spends two weeks waking up super early to watch the Tour live (because apparently watching it on the PVR isn’t the same) and then getting on his bike for hours and hours after. And on Saturday, thanks to my super awesome parents for looking after Little Ring, the two of us, and our respective lovelies, hit the roads together. We debated riding through the familiarity of …

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Some days…

Some days, the last thing you want to do is pull yourself out of bed when the 5 a.m. alarm shrieks from across the room. Some days, the hardest thing is squeezing into your sports bra, putting on your shorts, and lacing up your sneakers. Some days, the thought of a 35-minute tempo run feels as though a marathon was looking back at you. Some days was today. When the alarm sounded, I was dead to the world. My eyes were stuck shut, my body felt as though it was the mass of 5,000 tonnes and my head as though it had vice grips securing it to my pillow. The thought of a tempo run was not at all welcomed. I dragged my sorry self out of bed. I trudged to the washroom with my clothes and gear. I soft stepped down the stairs (no waking Little Ring allowed!). I …

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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. …

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Refusing the iBert bike seat

Oh man, the laughter that shot out of me the other night, I swear it shook the building! It was the night of my last blog post. I had been walking around for days giggling manically; Big Ring knew something was up and was a little, dare I say, frightened. After posting my blog, I refused to leave his side until he read it. At first I waited patiently, but for some reason the guy was not interested in his computer, he was more interested in the real estate porn on the TV. I thought I was gonna pee my pants, I’d been waiting so long, but there was no way I was gonna leave the room and have him read it without me seeing his reaction! After what seemed like forever, he finally shuffled over to his computer, and started clicking on his million or so bookmarks. As soon …

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