First Report from Canada

I made it to Thunder Bay, Ontario! It was another beautiful morning starting out from Grand Marais, MN. Unlike the last couple of days, the start of day 3 brought warm temperatures - perfect actually. Warm in the sun, cool in the shade. There was definitely a breeze that proved itself to be a rather annoying headwind, but when I took breaks and stepped off my bike, I welcomed its cool touch to my sweating body. I was only a handful of miles north of Grand Marais and found a spot near Five Mile Rock to pull my bike off the road on onto the rocky beach on the water. Since starting this ride, this is the first time I've actually gotten to enjoy time near the water. I sat for awhile feeling the warm sun bathe my exposed skin and the wind blow its secrets across my face and through my hair. I pulled out my journal and wrote.

Although I know I have the support of friends and family back home, it's not the same as having someone ride along side me. I experienced some sadness today as I was riding along. I realized the importance - necessity really - of self-talk. I'm the only one who's going to get me through this ride. I can complain about it later or share highlights after I've put in my miles for the day to loved ones via phone or email, but no one gets this up-close-and-personal experience with me, and I have no one to cheer me on and coach me through the challenging parts in the moment. I know a big part of this ride is to be alone - with myself. I do enjoy the solitude, but I think being alone also brings up some baggage from my past. Regardless, I must continue to push on and push through the sadness and the pain. I must learn to rely on myself and trust myself to get myself through it. I can be my own coach and cheerleader too.

The ride was slow today. I wasn't so much riding along as I was plodding along. I took my time on purpose. Yesterday's 86 miler to Grand Marais wore me out and I needed to be easy with my body today. Although 10 miles less today, 76 miles is still substantial when done back to back. And I sure felt it. I started out feeling pretty strong this morning, but a few hours in, my sciatic nerve on my left side began to bother me again. Bolts of pain ran up and down my left leg ultimately affecting my foot. That familiar burst of tremendous sharp pain came and went - long slow pulsations. I felt like my toes would literally explode. A few times it was so bad I had to stop and dismount from my bike. Other times I was able to push through. As if dealing with this pain wasn't bad enough, today the chaffing finally caught up with me. By the time I was done with my ride it hurt to sit on anything. It even hurt to walk. Thankfully a phone conversation with my sister, who is no stranger to diaper rashes with her young son, advised me to get something with some zinc-oxide in it. My mom (half of my sag-support team) and I made a prompt trip up the road to the drug store and purchased a couple cans of diaper rash cream with 40% zinc-oxide. I am hoping for some magical healing over night. I have a 79 mile ride tomorrow and if there's not some major healing going on down there, I'm not sure my body can physically make it.

I was doing some research tonight on long distance riding and some of the medical issues that can arise from constant pressure being put on one's private area. Although I wasn't surprised at what I read, I was surprised. I guess I just didn't think much about it, at least in terms of severity. Probably, in hindsight, something I should have read up on before I went on this ride. I think there were some preventative measures I could have taken. Ce la vie I suppose. For female-bodied riders, aside from the bad chaffing, one also needs to be worried about various types of vaginitis - the most common of which is the yeast infection. There are other things too - medical names I cant remember right at this moment, but I can assure you, rotten in their own respective ways. Because of how many hours I am in the saddle each day and the conditions in that particular area, I am highly susceptible. I can't tell you how happy I was to find this out (said with sarcasm of course). This is an interesting thing to ponder, and hopefully *fingers crossed* not actually experience as someone who identifies as gender nonconforming. I am reminded of the incongruence I feel with my body sometimes. I usually dont think much about it unless there's some attention being drawn to it - and usually in a negative way (i.e., restroom accessibility and now chaffing and the possibility of vaginitis). It's been challenging enough just to find gender neutral restrooms on this trip so far. And, let me tell you, when your stomach is tweaking out as it's adjusting to all the sports drinks, gels, and bars, being without a restroom one can feel comfortable enough in (although I do acknowledge, how comfortable can anyone feel in public restrooms?) is anxiety-provoking for sure, which of course does wonders to help an already upset stomach.

I am still feeling every bit of this ride. Physically it has already taken so much of a toll and it's only the end of day 3. Emotionally, this puts a damper on my spirits. As much as I think and will myself to push through and keep on keepin' on, if my body wears out on me physically, there's not much I can do. I wish I would have planned for a few rest days on this ride. Unfortunately it will not be possible unless I am willing to sacrifice some miles. One day at a time I guess. I've always been one of those people that lives by the motto, "no pain, no gain." As much time as I spend trying to tune out of my body while I'm on this ride, I know I have to stay vigilant as well. I do not want to risk serious injury or some major health issue because I was too stubborn to do the right thing. It's a tough spot to be in when mentally, I'm capable, physically is questionable (especially so early on in the game), and emotionally, because of the physical, I'm slowly crumbling.

I've been told by a border patrol agent and a police officer that the road ahead of me through Canada is only going to get more dangerous and challenging - no shoulder, construction, idiot drivers who don't pay attention, and hills. I have a feeling the worst part of this ride is yet to come - starting tomorrow. The best I can do is give myself up to the Universe and hope for the best and that the Universe is watching out for me on this ride. I have no cell service here - cant send or receive texts, likely cant make or receive calls. We've become so dependent on our technology that this thought alone is terrifying, especially given where I'll be and the increased chances of something major happening in which I would need to be reached or reach someone. Although tomorrow's 79 miles will be brutal, if I can make it through and still feel ok, I think I will feel better. I believe for 3 days after tomorrow I'll have some shorter rides. This will be a good thing.

I'm not sure when I'll be able to blog again. I'm headed into the remote parts of Canada and am not sure how well outfitted technology-wise these hotels will be. I'll continue to post as long as I am able. Keep sending me those positive thoughts! And 40% zinc-oxide, do your thing!