After a busy and slightly strange morning of sales calls and meetings, and major technical issues with testing the new pages for our website, I was feeling pretty drained. Unmotivated. A bit of a failure at life.
And apparently it was fairly obvious during my EOD chat with C. He enthusiastically encouraged (read: just shy of commanded) me to get off my laptop, stop thinking about work for the day, and go for a run/bike ride to clear my head. I struggled with it for a while because there’s just so. much. work. to. be. done.
But what can I say? I follow direction well. Plus, it is a bit sad that I spent all that money shipping my bike from Vancouver only to have it gather cobwebs in the foyer for the last 6 weeks. So I hopped on my trusty seed and set forth for the Lower Don Valley Trail, which I had seen several times during my runs around the neighbourhood.
It’s one of the main bike paths in Toronto, which runs along the Don Valley River. It’s quite nice because it almost feels like nature. That is, if you just stare at the trees on the embankment and ignore the the random men drinking beers on logs and the graffitied fence and railway track on the other side of the path. (Well, it’s no Vancouver seawall.)
It was nice to just be biking in the city, and even nicer to get over my phobia of biking in a city that doesn’t have the same level of bike protection (e.g. bike lanes and bike dedicated streets) as Vancouver. Not to mention having to “share” (I use the term very loosely) the road with streetcars and regular cars!
It felt good to be moving, getting some fresh air, and exploring a new part of the city. Birds were chirping. The sun was setting. All was good with the world. Then there was a detour, and I ended up near the Don Valley Parkway (DVP, or Don Valley Parking Lot as the locals call it) on a sketchy side street. That was less nice.
I cycled through Corktown for a bit, and then somehow managed to get on the part of Bayview that merges onto the DVP (a highway!). Despite my panic, I somehow managed to turn myself around, and ended up in Cabbagetown. Which meant breathing in lots of delicious pollution and trying not to get killed by streetcars.
I found Dundas as soon as I could after that and beelined for home. Which, unfortunately, meant a long, gradual uphill on Logan. Luckily my gams held up and I arrived home relatively unscathed.
The moral of the story (if there is one): sometimes, it’s really important to step away from work for a while and get yourself sorted out. Just make sure you don’t nearly bike onto a highway and kill yourself.