It’s not a race.

Keeping a To Do journal continues to do wonders for my productivity. It differs from a day planner in that I don’t set a specific day to complete tasks. I write down what I intend to get done over my 3-day weekend. Whatever I don’t cross off gets bumped to the following list. I make two to three lists a week.

I did not expect the Tour de Victoria to make it into my To Do journal.

It’s an annual (since 2012) cycling event. The organizers claim it’s not a race, yet there are timing chips, and you get a placement. The last and only other time I’ve done an event like this was the 122km Whistler Gran Fondo in 2013. Back then, I’d never cycled further than 100km. I succumbed to peer pressure and a comped entry and spent three or four months training one or twice a week, which at the time seemed like a lot.

All my so-so work paid off as I crossed the finish line in Whistler with a time of nearly six hours. After the event, I went back to using my bike for commuting rather than recreation. I was still stoked on rock climbing and was not ready to adopt cycling as a full-blown hobby.

Like the Whistler Gran Fondo, I wouldn’t have signed up for the Tour de Victoria if my entry hadn’t been comped. The bike shop I work at received a couple of entries in exchange for loaning some bike racks. Unlike the Whistler Gran Fondo, the Tour de Victoria wasn’t a trial of unknown roads and my abilities. I’d already ridden on every road on this route, and I no longer consider 100km to be an enormous distance.

The entry fee for the 100km ride was something absurd like $275: affordable only to lawyers or dentists, both of which are popular vocations among roadies. The comped entry alone wasn’t enough to rope me into signing up: I needed a friend.

Alexa was that friend. She’s done the Cowichan Gravel Fondo, and we’ve been riding together on Tuesday mornings most weeks since Spring. Alexa made it up Mount Warburton Pike when we camped on Saturna Island. I was sure she was capable of beating most women, even if we weren’t racing. Because it is not a race.

I enjoyed seeing all these people who set up a lawn chair along the route to cheer on riders. IT WAS SO CUTE. I waved back to most of my fleeting fans. I hope it was equally as cute to them.

The Whistler Gran Fondo paparazzi ambushed me by taking pictures of me along the way and uploading them for purchase online. I was barely prepared for the Fondo, and it sure showed in the pictures.

For the Tour de Victoria, whenever I spotted a telephoto lens in front of someone’s face, I tried looking as calm and collected as possible. Not that I plan to make an eventual payment for a watermark removal, unless I’m blown away by my own devastating gorgeousness. With all the street juice that freckled my face during the ride, I doubt it.

Edit: I started on this post last night. The photos are ALREADY online. AI has made it easy to sort the images by rider number.

Here’s how my legs looked after I swapped out my crew socks and cycling shoes for no show socks (a Millennial signature) and Crocs (…but make it fashion).

Environment Canada’s forecasted 10% chance of rain by 9am was just convincing enough for this fairweather rider to show up.

The hourly weather forecast turned out to be accurate. This still meant the roads were wet for the first half of the ride. I didn’t tell Alexa the reason, but I wanted us to skip that 1st Aid Station to get ahead of the greenhorns, who posed the most significant hazard.

A guy wiped out in front of me. I swerved in time to miss this spontaneous speed bump. I stopped as per etiquette to check up on him, but he was already being attended to by three others. Alexa and I passed a lady sitting on the side of the road, looking dazed as blood trickled down her forehead from under her helmet. She, too, already had people helping her.

The wet ride was even more anxiety-inducing for Alexa, who was subject to the sounds of squealing brakes and skidding tires. By the 2nd Aid Station, I wondered whether the free energy goo and banana halves were worth it. Happily, the tour finished in full sun, and the only thing I regretted was wearing my rain jacket.

Alexa came in 15th out of 131 women, which means–and this is the important part–I was right.

Most importantly, we had fun for free!