Today I was meeting my friend Columbia at the Aldershot drop-in (the plaza next to Ikea, for those of you who know where that is) and I got the bright idea that I could bike there as part of my new healthy lifestyle. According to Google, that meant a journey of 7.1 kilometres. On the way there, I barely broke a sweat (although I did sweat a little because it's friggin' HOT).
Everyone at the Early Years was pretty impressed that I had used my own womanly powers to get there, especially since they had cancelled the park program because of a heat advisory. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. Of course, I had only completely the downhill portion of the journey, but I had crossed enough construction sites and highway on-ramps that I was already thinking this was probably a bad idea.
After some arm-twisting I convinced Columbia to come with me to see a movie, which meant a nice long break in my 7.1-kilometre, uphill journey home. We walked to the theatre (Columbia didn't have a bike with her) and both agreed that it was probably too hot for walking to be a good idea. We saw Toy Story 3, which I've seen before, but which was more enticing (and at a better time) than Cats & Dogs: the Revenge of Kitty Galore. Since it was afternoon on a Wednesday, we pretty much had the entire theatre to ourselves.
Afterwards I left Columbia and biked up the side of a mountain, otherwise known as Brant Street. Brant Street is a never-ending sidewalk. There are a couple places a dip in the hill creates the illusion that there may be downhill ahead, but this is a cruel trick of the eye. Sweaty and exhausted, I stopped at the bank to cash a cheque and soak in their air conditioning. The kindly bank teller filled up my water bottle (because the water I had tasted like a bath). Thanks bank-teller Jeff!
I was pretty close to my Mom's house by this point so I travelled up the worstest uphill sidewalk in the history of mankind to Cavendish. My parents weren't home. I considered using my spare key to partake in free air conditioning, but the kids were asleep by this point and I was not motivated to make any attempt to manoeuvre the stroller into the house. Instead, I hung out on my parents front lawn, enjoying the exquisite bliss that comes with not moving at all.
The way home from Mom's is down hill so once I got back on the bike, I enjoyed a fun slide down Cavendish, my speed limited only by my nerve.
William stayed asleep when I transferred him from the stroller to bed, but Jadzia did not. Since my daughter looked about as sweaty and uncomfortable as I felt, we took a shower together. Now I feel squeaky clean (but she, unfortunately, is already covered in marker again).