I’ve learned something huge about myself over the past 6 months.

I am a goal-oriented person.

Give me a goal and I’ll do everything I can to achieve it.

If I don’t have a goal, I won’t be all in and committed. I’ll do what I feel like when the conditions are ideal.

This early spring has not been conducive to riding outside. It’s been cold. It’s been very windy.

Last year I wouldn’t have been riding. I would have found excuses to not ride—too cold, too windy, I’ve got other stuff to do, I’l go for a walk, I’m tired, etc.

Not this year! There is nothing quite like a 120 km ride that ends with climbing Mount Ventoux to get me out on my bike regardless of the conditions and whatever else I’d prefer to be doing.

And you know what—I feel fantastic about this. Setting this goal has been the best decision I’ve made in a long time.

The commitment to riding all winter on the trainer, getting up early to do a weight workout, foam rolling, stretching, etc. has trickled over into other parts of my life.

I’m doing more drawing, taking courses, pushing myself.

I’m spending a lot of time on professional development—getting certified as a content engineer, learning about Skills, Projects, Codex, Custom GPTS, Agents, and how to use AI to create efficient systems for better content creation.

I’m reading more books than I ever have.

I feel like I’m taking advantage of being alive. I’m using all the resources I have to fully develop all aspects of myself. This really excites me.

I think I’ve been in a bit of stasis for a while—nothing to shoot for, nothing that got me really excited, and my brain kind of relaxed a bit.

Not anymore! In the last week, I’ve been more productive and happier than I can remember.

Of course, for a Type A like me, there is a fine line. Too many things on the “I’m so excited I have to do this now” list can quickly become overwhelm, pushing me into decision fatigue and not being able to get anything done.

Good news is—I’ve become pretty astute at noticing this and saying to myself “what is the next thing?” and creating to do lists of only 3 or 4 items that I confidently know I can accomplish.

What a revelation it is to be in this state of mind and body.

I feel stronger, smarter, more confident, and ready to keep going.

You might be reading this and thinking “oh geez, Vicki is going to crack any day now.” Don’t worry, I’ve thought of this.

The course I’m taking is only three weeks long. I’ve finished the first week. I put limits on how much time I spend on the computer. I make sure I’m prioritizing riding, fresh air, relaxing, and doing nothing.

The thing is—there is lots of time in the day, I just wasn’t using it effectively.

What a difference a few goals make in finding the time and recognizing what wasn’t serving me.

If you’re curious about what I’m learning about AI and content engineering, I’m posting weekly on Good Words Work about this. Soon there will be new content about content engineering on my website—this is a new service I’ll be offering as soon as I finish the course and get certified.

I created this image with ChatGPT for the new column on my website. Pretty cool isn’t it?

And here are a few of my latest charcoal drawings:

It’s hard to believe that four months from today Marc and I will have ridden the 120 km long L’Etape du Tour de France Femmes avec Zwift.

It’s a pretty cool feeling to know that in four months, I’ll have accomplished a big goal.

Getting ready for L’Etape has made the winter one of the best I can remember in a long while. I was busy all winter either riding my bike in the basement, out fat biking, lifting weights, or recovering.

I’m not a big fan of the snow or the cold so having a structured training plan with a very large carrot at the end has been massive for me.

I remember many years ago when I ran a marathon and afterwards my brother asked me, “When did you know you would finish it?” and I responded “As soon as I registered.”

Admittedly I had some trepidation after registering for L’Etape. The scope of this ride is immense and when I registered I was at what I considered to be a low level of fitness.

But here I am today feeling very confident—confident enough to say “Yes, I will finish L’Etape on August 6.”

I trust in my training and the expertise of my coach, Steve Weller to get me ready for this ride. A big part of it won’t be the legs, it will be the head. And the good news is I’m doing pretty dang good in this department as well. For me, if the training is going well and I’m doing all the workouts, I’m able to build and maintain my confidence.

The old saying, “Trust your training,” really does go a long way.

Off the bike I’ve been very consistent with my strength program. I’m fortunate to be working with Paul Kernaghan at 613 Fitness. He’s put together a few programs for me now and I’m seeing real gains in my strength and mobility.

So, yeah, things are going well. We have our plans fully booked as well for France. We’ll essentially stay in Malucene for two weeks with a short four-day break in Vaison-la-Romaine, a short 13 minute drive away while we do L’Etape. Now just the picky details of flights and a car…

Away from bike riding and thinking about bike riding, life has been busy. Good busy!

I’ve got a new volunteer role as a member of the Nepean Sports Wall of Fame Board of Directors. We’ve only had a couple meetings so far, but I’m looking forward to getting involved with the communications and marketing team to help promote the NSWF.

I’m also still volunteering for the Ottawa Hospital as a Patient and Family Advisor—with a new position on the newsletter committee.

And lastly I support people who have ulcerative colitis or Crohn’s Disease and who may be considering having their colons removed and living with a permanent or temporary ileostomy. When I was getting ready for my surgery and a new ileostomate, it would have made a massive difference to me to have had someone to talk to about all the things no one tells you about life with an ileostomy.

I’m always happy to help and answer any questions and to talk about my experiences with an ileostomy and ulcerative colitis. (If you’re someone who wants to talk about ulcerative colitis or ileostomy life or you know someone who might want to talk—please do not be shy, send me an email.)

All of this fills me up and supports my soul. At the end of the day, I just want to know that I’ve made a difference in someone’s life. I think this is more important than any accolades, bank account balance, or fancy job title.

Oh, and more exciting news—I’ve signed up for two drawing classes. Yes, I know… I’ve got a lot on my plate. But don’t worry, I’ve got an extra large plate!

I start a four-week in-person drawing class on April 8 and then on April 28 I start an online four-week charcoal drawing class. I’m super excited about both of these. It’s really difficult to find a charcoal drawing class, so this really is going to be special.

So really that’s about it. Some of you may know that Marc had septorhinoplasty surgery about four weeks ago. He is doing really well. Back to riding and the best thing ever—he can finally breathe through his nose again. We’re super thankful to his brilliant surgeon and the care he received at the Carleton Place Hospital.

And, one last thing because I wouldn’t be a good Auntie if I didn’t brag a bit about my nephew. Henry is 16 years old and one of the top BMX Freestyle athletes in Canada. He’s currently fundraising so he can travel to three competitions in the U. S.

Henry has created an excellent web page that tells you all about his story, his goals, and accomplishments.

Brace yourself when you watch Henry’s video, it may leave you gasping when you see him fly through the air on his bike and your eyes may get a bit watery after listening to him share his hopes and dreams.

And once you’ve watched the video and read about his goals and upcoming competitions, watch his Thank You To My Supporters video. It is super sweet and really makes my heart full to see so many people supporting this young man.

Thanks for reading all the way to end. Have a super great day. I hope you’ve got lots to fill up your plate and soul.

The other day I was in the car with Marc and I said, “I’m feeling very confident about the Ventoux ride. I know I’ll be able to do it.”

Marc followed this with, “What is making you feel this way?” A fair question since I haven’t been exuding confidence about my fitness lately.

“I’m feeling good. I can feel myself getting fitter. And I know I have the mental strength and capability to do this ride. I’m a very strong cyclist, so I know I can do this.”

Something has finally clicked for me. I am finally willing to admit that I’m a very talented athlete and person.

For too long I’ve discounted my abilities and accomplishments—chalking them up to hard work and not recognizing what I’ve achieved.

So, yeah—I’m proud of me. I believe in me. I’m excited for August and what the future holds.

Time to hold my head high, stand tall and be a believer.

(You have to know this was not an easy post for me to write. My biggest fear is that people will think I have a big ego. If you’re a long time reader of this blog, you’ll know this isn’t true—but if this is the first post you’re reading—you may think otherwise.)

Onwards and upwards.

A big shout out to Brad Stulberg and his latest book The Way of Excellence—this book has been fundamental in reshaping my mindset.

Today I was out with friends and they asked about our summer trip.

The one where Marc and I will be riding L’Etape du Tour de France Femmes Avec Zwift—120 km from Vaison-la-Romaine to the summit of Mount Ventoux.

This is a 120 km ride with 3000 meters of elevation gain.

It’s a lot.

The enormity of it all really sank in today as I was talking about the distance and overall difficulty of this route.

For perspective, a 100 km ride here on the roads around Osgoode takes me a little under 4 hours. These are flat roads with a few bumps—not really hills and definitely not mountains.

The first 100 km of the August 6 L’Etape ride will be on a mix of short punchy climbs, rolling hills, big hills, and some flat roads. According to the Internet the route along the roads of the Baronnies, the vineyards of the Rhône Valley and the Dentelles de Montmirail to Mount Venotoux is considered beautiful but deceptively hard.

This is when I want to tell myself “don’t believe everything you read on the Internet.” But in this case, it’s true.

I realized today that this will be a long day on the bike. A very long and challenging day. Not only the distance and elevation but also the heat. August in France is hot.

I started thinking about where my fitness is and how much work I have to do to get ready for this ride.
I started thinking about my on bike nutrition and hydration.
I started thinking about how managing my ileostomy will make things extra complicated.
I started thinking about all the things.

And then I thought about what I did 16 years ago on this very weekend.

On January 31, 2010 I raced in the World Cyclocross Championships.

This was a very hard thing. The racing seasons and training leading up to this day were like nothing I’d ever done before.
The race day conditions were intense—hovering around 0 celsius on a course covered in snow and black ice.

I did it. And I had one of the best races of my cyclo-cross career.

So I’m leaning hard on those years and lessons from racing cyclo-cross to help build my self-confidence and remind me that I can do hard things.

The key is consistency. Putting in the effort and the work. Not every ride and strength workout will be fun. But when they are stacked on top of each other, the end result will be huge gains in fitness, self-confidence and ultimately kicking imposter syndrome to the curb.

Yes—I have massive imposter syndrome when it comes to riding my bike. I know. It makes no sense.

I think it’s because of what I dealt with the entire time I was racing cyclo-cross—a lot of whispering and talking behind my back (that I knew about) about how I wasn’t good enough, shouldn’t be doing it, blah blah.

This talk really dragged me down.

It made it hard some days to get out and ride, but in the end I used those people as little devils on my shoulder—they were with me for every interval effort, ride in the rain, slog through the mud, crash, and race—I used their words as fuel to push harder and dig deeper.

It’s funny how 16 years later I still carry these emotions with me.

Sigh.

So what does this all mean for the weeks and months leading up to August 6?

I just have keep doing what I know I can do really well: do the work and just keep doing it.

I (you) are meant to do hard things.

A few hard things:

There’s a trend out there on the World Wide Web to share your photos from 2016. I don’t know where this trend came from or how it started and I managed to ignore it for a little while—until I couldn’t.

I fell for it. And frankly, I’m glad I did.

If it wasn’t for 2016, I likely would not be here today. Strong statement—yes. But it’s not an overstatement.

It’s rare we take photos in our lowest moments. And now with the selfie-craze, not many people are interested in turning the camera on themselves when they don’t feel fabulous. I’m no different.

What I do differently though is refuse to paint life with a rainbows and unicorn lens. This is not fair to me, you, or the people who know me. I’m pretty confident that your life is not all sunshine and pots of gold—so why would mine be?

This is one of the problems with social media and blogging—the pressure to always make life look awesome 24/7/365.

With this caveat in mind, here’s look back to my 2016—it’s brimming with full technicolor goodness all captured with the modern miracle of an iPhone:

I wrote this on Instagram and I’ll repeat it here:

What a year it was. How lucky am I to have been gifted 2016?!

This year really set me up for the rest of my life. Thanks to a brilliant surgeon and his team, I was given a second chance.

Something I try to never take for granted. On the days when it’s grey clouds and racoons in the garbage, I need to remind myself of what a gift it is to be here and to have the day—even when it isn’t picture perfect.

Really, it’s these days that help us appreciate the good and the amazing days.

I’m glad I got sucked into this looking back trend.

It’s funny I’ve just realized I kind of do this looking back thing on a nightly basis. I have a five-year one line a day journal that I’ve been keeping for three years. Every night before bed, I sit down and right one line about my day. I always read the previous years entries and some nights I skip ahead to read a random day.

This little journal is snapshot of my life—what was important enough for me to capture it in that one precious line?

Some days there are just a few words and other days the writing is cramped and small because I had so much to say.

This little journal is a more accurate account of my day than any photo or social media post.