CLIMBING THE HILL ... an analogy.

After being told we were part of something that raised $20.5 Million to help cure cancer in our lifetime, 5,044 of us got on our bikes and began a ride 219 kilometres over two days.

As the motivation of being part of something bigger than yourself starts to fade and the riders thin out, you settle into a rhythm as you make your way along the route. There is always someone around you... another rider or someone on the side of the road cheering you on, but ultimately you are left with your thoughts as you pedal — Pedals always turning.

The road is always in front of you; straight away; turning; rolling... and It inevitably brings you to that steep hill, because there is always a steep hill it seems.

You see it. The other riders see it. Every rider prepares for it in his or her own way. If you know it is coming you may be able to get some momentum and optimize your gearing to get the most of it. For those not so fortunate, you see the hill for the first time and have to react as quickly as you can to determine the best gear to get through the climb.  Ultimately, all must commit to a gear — Pedals always turning.

With head down, you focus on pedalling until you are either at the top of the hill or until you are unable to pedal anymore — Pedals always turning.

You can hear the sound of riders trying to gear down to ease the strain and fail; can hear riders cursing because someone can pedal no more and stops in front of them; can only watch through the corner of your eye those riders who surrender to the hill and start walking — Pedals always turning. With progress being made, lungs gasping for air, legs burning, and the spectre of simply stopping in your ear, you continue — Pedal always turning. It becomes simple willpower that keep the pedals always turning.

And then you are at the top. You made it. It is enjoyable being on your bicycle again. You continue the ride knowing the hill is behind you and you are better for climbing it.

Pedals always turning.

A shoutout to my riding buddies John and Kevin, I appreciate you guys riding up the hill with me. Our honorary captain Mike got sidelined this year, but I know he will join us next year because his pedals are always turning.

iamgpe

PS: As a final note, hills have nothing on the fuckin' headwind.

There but for the grace of God, go I...

My spare period had me in a nearly empty cafeteria line deciding if I should choose the regular honey bun or the honey bun with the white icing; I couldn't help but turn back as the sound of running and screaming began to fill the hallway. As I looked towards the entrance to the cafeteria line, I saw a dozen students run by, and heard someone shout, "He's got a gun!"

As I tried to understand what was happening a self proclaimed rebel (and I suspect anarchist) sauntered right behind the fleeing students, looked at me, and said, "It's not a real gun, it's a fake". And then he was gone.

As I imagined what I would do, where I could hide, and how I could escape if in fact a gunman did appear at the entrance that I was fixated on — I heard a gun shot.

Leaving any thought of a honey bun with white icing behind, I hurried to the cafeteria.

May 25, 2017 by Jason Spencer  Brampton Guardian

It'll be 42 years ago this weekend that the first school shooting known to have taken place in North America occurred.

The traumatic event happened May 28, 1975 when Michael Slobodian, 16, entered Brampton Centennial Secondary School with two rifles. He killed teacher Margaret Wright and student John Slinger, 17. Slobodian also injured 13 people and killed himself.

A sculpture set to be unveiled Saturday, May 27, at the school will be a sombre reminder of the historic tragedy and an earnest attempt to alleviate the wound that remains years later.

The stone sculpture was created by artist Mary Ellen Farrow. It displays a pair of benches that face two figures that appear to be consoling one another.

Brampton Centennial Memorial Committee member Pam Hand explained in an email that one bench has the name of the sculpture, The Healing Place, carved into it, while the other bench reads: "On Wednesday, May 1975, all of us learned to love one another just a little more."

"We needed a place to go to reflect and to think and to heal," Hand wrote in an email about the sculpture.

The outdoor memorial has been a long time coming and was made a reality by fundraising, Hand noted, including a donation for $25,000 from Trinison Management Corporation.

The public is invited to attend the ceremony, which begins at 9 a.m. Speakers include members of the Peel District School Board as well as others affected by the tragedy.

The school is located at 251 McMurchy Ave.

***

I found myself heading into my art class shortly after all of this, and could not help but notice the marks that bullets leave when they hit brick.

There but for the grace of God, go I.

iamgpe

Keep that heart of yours healthy...

It was strange, almost cliché, when I heard myself say, "But... I was just riding with him two hours ago." 

The symbol for love, loyalty, compassion, and conviction, as well as character and fortitude, it is also the organ that pumps blood through your body for a lifetime — The heart it seems is something that embodies the human condition.

A dear friend of mine just had a heart attack, and although a little intense, he was in good shape, ate very well, didn't smoke, and watched his weight. He just didn't come across as a candidate.

Being a man of great heart, his family and friends rallied around the situation; we did what could to support him in his time of need. Modern medicine, the grace of god, and his will to live, had him "up and about" three days later, and as someone put it, "Holding court in one of the waiting rooms". Stabilization, diagnosis... and now the treatment; heart surgery for sure, although the details of what that will be are up in the air at the moment. He is a man of great heart, so I am most certain he will get through whatever is decided.

As I reflect on the situation (which it seems we all do in moments such as these), I can't help but ponder all those symbols that this fist sized organ embodies. The heart keeps us alive to be sure, but I think the aspects of our character, conviction, fortitude, compassion, and how we love, are the reflection of how we live.

My dear friend lives life large in my opinion, and when they finally do what they need to do, I look forward to seeing him. After all, we have some riding to do.

There but for the grace of god, go I.

iamgpe