Junk Bike Rest in Peace

My junk bike was stolen. Well it kinda happened at a bad time. I was just headed out to the Tour de l'Île. I had my bib on, the helmet, a little love note I wanted to drop off at the boyfriend's house, I was ready. Ready to continue my quest to become a cyclist damnit! I will conquer the bike! I walk down to the parking in my building's garage and there, I'm breathless, the bike is missing. My thing of beauty, my true cycling love is... gone. CRAP.

Well, still gotta go. My first cycling event. I grabbed the winter bike. A 50 pound tank ready to tackle any snowplow head on and, with tears in my eyes, I leave for the tour. Never mind the leaky tire. Let's just go. The show must go on after all.

So the Tour de l'Ile. In some ways it was my own little Tour de France, biking this close to all these people was a wonderful experience in itself but what was the nicest was the lack of pressure. This was just a great event where everyone got a chance to see the beauty of the city of Montreal and take the kids with them. I was amazed at how tough the kids were, pedaling on their minibikes k after k. The smaller ones were falling asleep behind their parents and the rest were dozing in their parents' little carriages . I was so thankful that their little stomachs were holding up. Let's face it, a ride among Montreal's potholes will severly test any stomach.

It took much longer than I expected but I was glad to be able to do it. I was thankful for my good health upon seeing all those people by the sidelines who couldn't do it and were cheering us on. Good health and fitness are so precious.

So now the junk bike is on its way to someone else. It had been given to me and now it has been taken to someone else. Of course this event forces me to tackle the racing bike this summer. No more excuses. I will become a cyclist damnit.