Against the Odds

Story Length: 5 minutes or less.
This morning, I had the longest 65km and most challenging (because of all the rolling hills) bike ride I had ever done. I was excited as we had planned this 2 months prior, and I knew it’d be perfect for my sprint tri training.
The race started at 8:50am and was located an hour-and-a-half away from Toronto. Where we live.
Which meant we had to leave by 6:30am to make it in time for registration.
Here is how the series of events unfolded.

6:15am:
My husband and I are at the parking lot we start loading our car with our change of clothes and goodies for the trip.
We then head over to where both our bikes were racked, and notice that only his bike was racked. Mine was NOWHERE to be seen.
IT WAS STOLEN. STOLEN!
At this point, I was livid. I had JUST used it last night, and only purchased the (expensive) bike 2 months ago.
Are you kidding me?

6:25am:
We peruse the remaining two parking levels where the other bikes were racked with the hope that I had mistakenly racked it on another rack.
No such luck.

6:28am:
My husband decides that we can’t give up. So he suggests “Let’s take the car and drive around — we might find it!”
I could tell he was just being supportive and indignantly I responded with “Sure.”
I knew we weren’t going to find it.

6:35:
We’re in our car (my husband is driving and I’m in the passenger’s seat) and we’re about 2 blocks away from where we live, when in the corner of my right eye, I notice a beautiful light-blue bicycle being walked by a homeless man, in my peripheral vision, and yell:
“THAT’S MY BIKE!!!!!!!!!!”
***Sidebar: Now I have to describe this man who is walking my lovely bike. He’s about 5’7″, overly gaunt and looks like he regularly ingests and injects hard core drugs into his system. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and tattered jeans. He has a worn backpack and is wearing gloves. Can you visualize him? Good! Oh, and I’m petite and about 5’5″. Now back to the altercation.**

6:35 and 5 seconds:
As the car is still moving, I fling the passenger door wide open, leap out of the car and take aggressive steps towards the perpetrator and with a solid, unwavering and commanding tone I look him dead in the eye and say:
“THAT. IS. MY. BIKE.”
He looks down on the pavement and says:
“Uh… no, it isn’t.”
Standing my ground and without batting an eye I say:
UH. YES. IT IS. THAT IS MY BIKE.
I then slowly take it from him and he releases is to me without any hesitation.
I proceed to tell him that I will report him if he does this again.
Then I”m interrupted by my lovely husband who calms me down.
I begin taking photos, then the perp just walks away.

6:40:
We load my bike on the car’s bike rack, and start heading towards Barrie, ON, where the ride takes places.

8:35:
We made it JUST in time for registration.
A few hours later…
I finished (along with my amazing husband who rode alongside me) the bike ride!! There were so many moments as I was climbing the hill that I wanted to stop and walk my bike up the hill.
I didn’t.
It took me a long time to finish, but I DID IT!
Today’s lesson just taught me to never give up regardless of what kind of day you’re having. Things will turn out better that you probably expected if you just keep going.
GOOD LUCK to everyone racing their triathlons!
NEVER GIVE UP.

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