Amir R. Pakdel
06-09-02, 04:08 PM
/weekend journal
Stereotypicalism aside, Canada is a cold place for most parts. Winter in Vancouver was very long this year, and I was quite used to the cold/rainy season.
Today the tempreatue was a scorching 27 degrees centigrad. Maybe not a whole lot to many of you, but considering last week the temperature range of 13-17 degrees centigrad, it's unbelievable hell fire for me. It's amazing how the temperature rises 10 degrees in as little as one day.
So I'm on my usual route, thinking it's a good sunny day. All's good, but I start to panic when I notice that I have finished my first bottle within the first 30 minutes.
I make it up to the lake at the top of the hill, not feeling too great due to mild dehydration. Now I'm looking for a water tap. In the whole park there is one tap of drinkable water, and the friendly lake park adminstration for some reason had decided that it would be best to turn it off on this unsually hot day... so no water here.
So I reach for my second bottle which I normally wouldn't have touched until I got to the second lake at top of the next hill. Now I was 3 quarters empty.
I head to the next hill, with nothing with my mind other than water. The hill starts... and now my body itself is burning hotter than the fiery burning of the sun... I'm no where near top, and I know I can't make it. My legs are packing the power and energy, and I could go twice as fast as I was going, but this heat was making me freak out. I reached for the remaining water, and sucked the bottle to the last drop.
The hill would still go on, but I couldn't. Without shame I turned back, knowing if I pushed myself anymore I'd collapse right there... that is if my head didn't bake like potato first..
Coasting on the flat wasn't so bad at 30 KPH as usual... the sweat was evaporating off. Still I slowed down, afraid of doing injury even at this level which was moderate for me. I head right to the aquatic center 20 km after and got some water.
There was still the hill to my house to go, but at least now I had water. My jersey's zipper was down to bottom of my chest and my helmet was hanging down on the handle. I made it up...
But I'll be damned if I ever set out of the house again at any tempreature more than 22 degrees...
This experience was nothing but torture... the day was beatiful... but oh so cruel.
From now I'm checking the forecast and getting up 6 am, and coming home before noon. I simply can't see how I can get used to this heat. It used to be okay when I biked only less than an hour. But now my rides are no less than 2-3 hours, and I train harder.
It was nice seeing a lot of roadies along the way though... smiling and saying hi. I never see them on weekdays or rainy days on this route, that's why I assume they are weekend warriors.
Stereotypicalism aside, Canada is a cold place for most parts. Winter in Vancouver was very long this year, and I was quite used to the cold/rainy season.
Today the tempreatue was a scorching 27 degrees centigrad. Maybe not a whole lot to many of you, but considering last week the temperature range of 13-17 degrees centigrad, it's unbelievable hell fire for me. It's amazing how the temperature rises 10 degrees in as little as one day.
So I'm on my usual route, thinking it's a good sunny day. All's good, but I start to panic when I notice that I have finished my first bottle within the first 30 minutes.
I make it up to the lake at the top of the hill, not feeling too great due to mild dehydration. Now I'm looking for a water tap. In the whole park there is one tap of drinkable water, and the friendly lake park adminstration for some reason had decided that it would be best to turn it off on this unsually hot day... so no water here.
So I reach for my second bottle which I normally wouldn't have touched until I got to the second lake at top of the next hill. Now I was 3 quarters empty.
I head to the next hill, with nothing with my mind other than water. The hill starts... and now my body itself is burning hotter than the fiery burning of the sun... I'm no where near top, and I know I can't make it. My legs are packing the power and energy, and I could go twice as fast as I was going, but this heat was making me freak out. I reached for the remaining water, and sucked the bottle to the last drop.
The hill would still go on, but I couldn't. Without shame I turned back, knowing if I pushed myself anymore I'd collapse right there... that is if my head didn't bake like potato first..
Coasting on the flat wasn't so bad at 30 KPH as usual... the sweat was evaporating off. Still I slowed down, afraid of doing injury even at this level which was moderate for me. I head right to the aquatic center 20 km after and got some water.
There was still the hill to my house to go, but at least now I had water. My jersey's zipper was down to bottom of my chest and my helmet was hanging down on the handle. I made it up...
But I'll be damned if I ever set out of the house again at any tempreature more than 22 degrees...
This experience was nothing but torture... the day was beatiful... but oh so cruel.
From now I'm checking the forecast and getting up 6 am, and coming home before noon. I simply can't see how I can get used to this heat. It used to be okay when I biked only less than an hour. But now my rides are no less than 2-3 hours, and I train harder.
It was nice seeing a lot of roadies along the way though... smiling and saying hi. I never see them on weekdays or rainy days on this route, that's why I assume they are weekend warriors.
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