frequently peeing female cyclists

I have very predictable pee schedules. I can get through much of the day without having to go to the toilet very often. Then I go to bed and I have to get up at least twice during the night to pee. Then morning comes and I eat my bowl of oatmeal and have a single cup of tea. That leads to peeing in copious quantities every half an hour for the next three hours or thereabouts.

This makes my life generally difficult. It makes travelling and training pure hell.

Who doesn’t leave their hotel first thing in the morning after breakfast to start their sightseeing? Everyone does that. I do that. But it means that I’m stopping the people with me every half hour to find a toilet until I’m past the critical period of multiple pees. It also means that when I was cycling across Europe, in need of very early starts to get my cycling done as early as possible during the day, I was stopping at the side of the road all the time to pee. I don’t even want to think about the number of people who might have seen my exposed rear end. I try to hide myself away but, seriously, how hidden can you ever be on the side of a major road, for example? It also means getting up at least twice in the middle of freezing cold nights to pee while camping.

Yesterday I had to get my run done early in the morning because I had other things that needed to get done the rest of the day. Do you know how irritating it is to feel an exaggerated sense of needing to pee with every single stomp of your feet on the ground? It’s AWFUL. But I persevered. (more…)

Slovenia! I did not know what to expect and you absolutely took my breath away! What

There was no border between Italy and Slovenia.

a beautiful country.

Let’s just start by saying that Slovenia is a safe haven for Frequently Peeing Female Cyclists (FPFCs) like myself. There are more than enough small side roads and big trees to hide behind. It was heaven today. I just stopped whenever I felt the urge even beginning to reveal itself. Heaven!

I started my morning in Gorizia, Italy. I already knew I was very close to the border with Slovenia. But, man! One minute I was in Gorizia cycling down one of its quiet streets lined with houses and a school, and suddenly I’m in Slovenia. There was no border. One was just the continuation of the other. Two cities, two countries, as one.

Almost immediately I found myself heading up into the mountains. It was so beautiful, so green, so quiet. I passed tiny, tiny villages the whole way. There might be four houses in one village, eight in another, twenty in yet another. They were just really nice small houses in the mountain. What a way to live.

The road gradually got steeper and steeper as I headed upwards. Yesterday I asked the hotel receptionist how steep the road was. He said, “You have cycled in the Alps before?” I said, “No. But I did the Pyrenees.” He said, “Phttt. Then it will be nothing.”

I have no idea why I said I “did” the Pyrenees. I crossed them. From what was probably the least Msteep point in the whole range. Today’s climb was not phttt just as I have not “done” the Pyrenees. I went from sea level to 815 meters. Fifty of today’s 90km were uphill. That’s not phtt. Yet it was doable. And if I compare today’s climb with others I’ve done on this trip, there is at least one other that was more difficult and maybe two others that were the same.

I was taken aback by Ljubljana. I really did not know what to expect. I could live in this town. It’s beautiful. It’s one of those few towns I’d love to come back to with my husband, along with Girona, Spain and Verona, Italy.

Ever since I started this trip, when I’ve cycled into a town on a Sunday afternoon, they have all been dead like ghost towns. Ljubljana was absolutely alive. There were rallies, singing, dancing, shops and restaurants open, people strolling. It’s wonderful!

Take a look at this video. I assume this is what Slovenians normally do on Sunday afternoons. Isn’t it wonderful?