Writing

Training for a 100KM Ride, Vancouver Triathlon and T100 Triathlon | 100KM Part 4

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

I’m currently training for a 100 kilometer charity ride and two triathlons this year, and this series is me documenting the process.

This is Part 4.

If you want to follow the journey, stick around.

See Part 1 here. And Part 2 here. And Part 3 here.

Week 14: Day Off 

This week started with my fourth FTP test of this five month training block. Going into it, I was hoping for an increase. But after the way the last month had gone, my expectations were pretty modest. At this point, I was mostly hoping I hadn’t lost too much fitness.

The past couple of months have been tough. I’ve still been recovering from burnout, and feeling pretty drained. I always thought that once the weather got nicer, I’d naturally feel better too. But when so much of your day is spent staring at a computer screen, you don’t actually get to enjoy those nice days all that much. 

So the fact that I’m even doing the FTP test felt like an accomplishment, because I was still committed to the process. Endurance, sometimes, is just continuing to show up when things aren’t going your way.

Over the May long weekend, we woke up to discover that our dog, Petey, had an ear infection. Instead of spending the holiday taking him on a long walk and enjoying the extra day together, he ended up spending most of it at the vet. They needed time to properly examine his ear without him freaking out, so we waited… and worried.

It’s funny how life works sometimes. There are days when riding a bike for hours feels easier than everything else that’s going on. Then there are days when the ride is the hard part. By the end of the FTP test, my result came in at 197 watts. That’s one watt lower than last month. Honestly, it’s a bit of a relief. 

The training hasn’t been consistent recently, and the numbers reflect that. But I also know that FTP isn’t the only metric measuring my progress right now. 

This week was about making it to my second long weekend. A 3 day work week. I had booked Friday off because I’d originally planned an overnight bike touring trip to Nanaimo. I’d been looking forward to it for a while, but as the weeks got closer, I decided to cancel. Looking back, I think it was the right decision. I just couldn’t imagine taking on a trip like that at the moment, even if it was only for one night.

Instead, I moved my training schedule around and turned Friday into my biggest ride of the training block. The plan was to start with the UBC route, climb that hill, and then continue all the way down to Steveston in Richmond. It’s a route I’ve wanted to do for a long time, and it finally felt like the right day for it.

The ride naturally broke itself into a few different sections. With the Vancouver T100 getting closer, I wanted another chance to ride that hill a few more times. I figured the more familiar I became with it now, the less intimidating it would feel on race day. It also happened to be graduation weekend. 

It also happened to be graduation weekend. It’s nice watching people reach something they’ve worked towards for years. I wish I had some life-changing advice I could give graduates. Maybe that they have so much further to go. 

After descending the hill, I stopped at Spanish Banks for a break. I sat for a while, watched some dogs playing on the beach, and tried another Xact bar. Maple. This one… wasn’t for me. It was just way too sweet. I think it’s officially my least favourite flavour, which means I should probably make that ranking video I’ve been talking about. 

From there, I rode back through Vancouver, followed the Arbutus Greenway through all the construction detours, crossed the bridge, and made my way into Richmond. From here, it was a bit of an adventure onto the dyke trail. 

The Railway Greenway goes from north to south and it is such a peaceful stretch to cycle through, and it gave me another opportunity to spend time riding in my aero bars. The more comfortable I can become in that position now, the better it’ll feel when race day finally arrives. By the time I reached Steveston, I was feeling great. 

The plan had always been to reward myself with a beer and fish and chips, and that’s exactly what I did. I made a stop at Britannia Brewing. The food looked so good, I was ready to cry. 

Afterwards, I wandered around for a bit, savored the last relaxing moments of my day off, and came across a kite flying club. Watching them brought back something I’d forgotten about myself.I’ve always loved flying kites.

It’s one of those hobbies I’ve always thought I’d enjoy spending more time with, but life has a way of filling up. People always say you can’t do everything, and I suppose flying kites has become one I’ve had to leave behind.

One thing these longer rides have been teaching me is that my legs actually aren’t the biggest problem anymore. It’s my shoulders. That’s where I notice the fatigue building first. 

It’s something I should work on over the next few weeks. Partly by strengthening those muscles, but also by improving my posture on the bike and learning to support myself better through my core and hips.

The ride home was when I really started feeling it. It wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that comes after a long day at work. It felt different. It was a good kind. This one wasn’t fuelled by stress.

Rush hour traffic had picked up by then, so I mostly focused on getting home safely. I practiced riding hands-free whenever I had the chance, stretched out my shoulders a little, and settled into the rhythm of the ride.

It wasn’t the biggest week for fitness gains, but after everything that’s happened over the last couple of months, weeks like this remind me that training is sometimes simply about finding your way back.

Week 15: Still Breathing

Coming off last week’s ride, where I ended up riding 99 kilometres, I wasn’t really sure how I should continue from there. That ride was basically my goal distance. Sure, I took a decent break in the middle, but it still gave me confidence that I could cover the distance. So this week felt a little awkward. 

Part of me wondered if I should take it easy for a while and let my body recover. Another part of me felt like I should just keep going and carry that momentum into the next few weeks.

At the same time, my mental health seems to be trending in a better direction. I could feel my nervous system less in panic survival mode. It’s far from perfect, it’s an hour by hour type of thing, but I’m not drowning anymore and that has given me a bit of hope. If everything works out, day-to-day life should become a little more sustainable.

On Saturday, I decided to head back out to New West. The last time I rode there, I came in via the Central Valley Greenway. This time, I took the BC Parkway, which runs roughly parallel farther south. The route carried me through East Vancouver, past the Metrotown area, behind Edmonds, and across the Queensborough connector before I continued toward New West.

I stayed along the river and followed the path toward the Quay. We’d had a long stretch of sunshine, and around here that usually doesn’t last long. I had a feeling I should take advantage of it while I still could.

Sometimes I catch myself feeling like I should be doing more. If I’m sitting around for too long, I start feeling guilty. I’m never bored. I’m always guilty. Something is always happening. I can’t even remember the last time I fell asleep without listening to something. Maybe that’s just the world we live in now, but I do wonder how I can shut down my mind once in a while.

Cycling has become part of that too. Some days I head out because I genuinely want to ride my bike. Other days, I go because that’s what the training plan says to do. That’s just part of training for an event. You make the commitment, and that means riding on days when you don’t really feel like it. I’m not mad or anything, but what does free time even mean anymore? 

It does make me wonder what my time will look like once all these events are over. Maybe I’ll enjoy riding even more when I’m not always thinking about the next thing. I don’t really know. But let’s be honest, I’ll probably sign up for another race. 

I stopped for a break at the New West Quay along the Fraser River and tried the Mixed Berries Exact bar. I wasn’t really sure what to think after the first bite. The flavour was good, but the texture was a little unexpected. It reminded me of taffy with little pieces of nuts in it. It took a few bites, but by the end I was actually enjoying it.

Whenever I’m going through a tougher stretch mentally, it’s really easy to focus on the difficult days. Those are the ones that seem to stick with me, while the good ones fade away.

Maybe that’s why it felt natural to ride through the cemetery. How can one think about time and not think about death? I wasn’t searching for any big answers. I already know I shouldn’t always be waiting for things to be over, because life is made up of these ordinary moments that are so easy to overlook while we’re living them.

With that in mind, I decided to ride over to the beach. I just felt like seeing the ocean. It’s one of those places that’s always been nearby, and because of that it’s easy to forget how lucky I am to have it. Sometimes it helps just to sit there for a few minutes and enjoy the moment before heading home.

The next day, I spent Sunday volunteering at Mikey’s Run for Men’s Mental Health. It was actually my first time volunteering at an event like this. Sharon was running the 10K while I was helping near the parking lot at Burnaby Lake, making sure runners and vehicles don’t collide. 

Over the past few months I’ve spoken about my own mental health. Sometimes I wonder if I talk about it too much. There’s still a part of me that feels like I should just deal with it on my own and bottle it up like a man.  

By the end of the morning, I wasn’t focused on my own training or the next workout or the things that had been weighing on my mind. It was nice to not think solely of myself for a few hours. It felt like relief.

Week 16: On Repeat

The weather finally turned this week in Vancouver. After what felt like weeks of sunshine, we were back to rain again. Friday was wet, but it was also a day that I’d had on my calendar for a while because I was going to see Spencer Krug perform. If you know Wolf Parade or Sunset Rubdown, you’ll probably know who he is.

—

This week, the folks at Ravemen sent me a FR1100 bike light, and first impressions are really good. It feels incredibly solid, comes with a ton of accessories, and setting it up on my bike was quick and straightforward. I’m excited to get it out on some early morning and evening rides to see how it performs in the real world. If you’re interested in checking one out for yourself, I’ve left a link in the description.

The next day, it was back to training. I was on a bit of a schedule, so I couldn’t really wait for the rain to clear. I just headed out in what was probably the heaviest downpour we’ve had in months. I also wasn’t really feeling like going on another big adventure. I just wanted to keep things simple.

After the 99-kilometre ride a couple of weeks ago, I’ve noticed that my motivation for these really long rides has dropped off a little. I still enjoy riding my bike, but I think sometimes it’s everything that comes with riding outside that feels a little overwhelming such as planning routes, traffic, intersections, and being around lots of people. All of that takes a little more energy than I have. Usually, once I’m out there, I’m glad I went. It’s just getting myself out the door that can be the difficult part. 

I rode up Queen Elizabeth Park a few times before making my way down the Arbutus Greenway toward The Crescent in Shaughnessy. If you’ve never been there, it’s probably one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in Vancouver. The houses are enormous, many of them are gated, and it’s a really quiet place to ride.

Eventually the sun did come out and it became a lovely day for cycling. I really had to drag myself out today, but I’m glad I did. 

The Crescent itself is just a circular road with a small park in the middle. One lap is only about half a kilometre, and I thought it might be interesting to spend a few hours seeing how many laps I could ride. Without doing the math, in my head I was aiming for a hundred.

The Crescent is probably best known among Vancouver’s cyclists for the Crescent 200, which is an unofficial community ride where people gather once a year and spend the day riding lap after lap.

I’ve always thought that sounded like such a fun idea for an endurance challenge. There’s something kind of soothing about doing the same loop over and over again. Once I settled into it, I realized how much I was enjoying myself. 

After about ten laps, I stopped for fueling. This week’s Xact bar was the Vanilla flavour. I actually liked this one quite a bit. It was more like eating a wafer dessert than a sports bar, which honestly felt a little too fancy. 

Then I got back into the rhythm of the ride. As the laps started adding up, I noticed different people passing through. Dog walkers. Joggers. Construction workers stopping for a break. People would come and go while I kept riding around the same circle. I probably looked a little strange, but nobody seemed particularly interested in what I was doing.

After 2 and a half hours, I finished with 70 laps around The Crescent. I wasn’t close to the hundred I had imagined, but when I finally stopped, I felt really accomplished.

What made it satisfying was that it tested something different. It wasn’t my legs as much as it was my willingness to keep doing the same thing, lap after lap, without getting bored. There was something strangely calming about it.  And before I knew it, they had all added up.

It reminded me a little of listening to old music. I’ve heard those songs so many times that I already know what’s coming next, but that’s part of why I keep going back to them. There’s a certain comfort in hearing something that’s already familiar.

When we talk about adventure or going on some kind of personal journey, it feels like we’re always looking for something new. But I also think there’s value in returning to the places we already know. In a world where so much is designed to grab our attention and pull us in a hundred different directions, I think there can be something really refreshing about putting the playlist on repeat.

Week 17: Fear of Missing Out 

I’ve been looking forward to this weekend for a few months now, and it finally arrived. The FIFA World Cup officially kicked off this week, and I’ve been really excited for it. At first, I was mostly looking forward to the soccer itself. I always get excited whenever the World Cup comes around. But this year feels different because it’s happening here in Vancouver. Taxpayers like myself are helping pay for a big part of it, and I figured I might as well enjoy it while it’s here.

This weekend wasn’t really the time to experience everything though. I had a busy schedule, so I mostly wanted to get out on my bike, see how the city was changing, and get a little preview of what the next few weeks might feel like.

I started by riding out toward New Brighton in the northeast part of Vancouver. I really like this area of the city. I used to live in Burnaby, so I spent a lot more time over here back then, and every time I come back I wonder why I’m not here more often.

I’ve also been trying to keep up with all the different World Cup events happening around the city. The biggest one is probably the Fan Fest at the PNE. I got there a little too early, so it wasn’t open yet, but I still rode over just to have a look around and see what was happening. Even though I couldn’t get inside, I think it helped a little with that feeling of missing out. Sometimes just seeing a place is enough, so I got out of there before I made the security guards more nervous. 

From there I cruised over to BC Place to see how they have fenced up the whole area, then saw all the flags they’ve put up at the Plaza of Nations, and finally, Science World, the giant soccer ball installation. 

When I first heard they were going to turn the geodesic dome into a soccer ball, I honestly thought it sounded kind of cheesy. But seeing it in person changed my mind. Let’s just leave it like that forever. 

I stopped for a break near the laughing statues, which had all been dressed up in soccer jerseys for the tournament. While I was there, I tried the Coconut Xact bar. By the time I got around to eating it, it had been sitting in my pocket for a while and had almost melted completely in the heat. 

It was one of those flavours that’s more preferable after dinner with a glass of milk rather than halfway through a ride on one of the hottest days of the year. I’ll have to try it again under better circumstances.

After that I rode a lap around Stanley Park before heading out to UBC to do that hill one more time.

As the morning went on, I watched the city get busier and busier, and there was part of me that wished I had the energy to stay out longer and be part of everything that was happening.

There was just a really nice feeling around the city today. The weather was beautiful, people were everywhere, and it almost felt like Vancouver had become a slightly different version of itself for the weekend. Whether they’re locals or visitors for the tournament, everyone seemed to be sharing the same excitement.

Even though my main goal for the day was still to get my training ride done, it also felt like I was exploring something new. There was this feeling that I should make the most of it while it was here. It reminded me a little of the first day of a vacation. You’ve only just arrived, but at the same time you know it’s going to end eventually, so there’s this urgency to soak everything in before it disappears.

At the same time, I know myself well enough to know that big crowds exhaust me. I like the idea of events like this more than I like being in the middle of them. So after getting my ride in, I headed home.

This week also marks a turning point in my training. The high-intensity part of preparing for the 100-kilometre ride is coming to an end. From here, the focus shifts from building fitness to recovering.

I’ve got a trip coming up soon, summer is only just getting started, and there are plenty of other things I want to enjoy over the next little while alongside the bike rides. So I think the goal from here is fairly simple. Get the rest in when I need it and try not to overthink things too much.

There’s still one more FTP test before this five month training block is over, and I’m genuinely curious to see where I end up after having a little more recovery than I’ve had over the last couple of months.

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Training for a 100KM Ride, Vancouver Triathlon and T100 Triathlon | 100KM Part 3

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

I’m currently training for a 100 kilometer charity ride and two triathlons this year, and this series is me documenting the process.

This is Part 3.

If you want to follow the journey, stick around.

See Part 1 here. And Part 2 here.

Week 10: Clean Start

What’s the best way to prepare for an FTP test? I’ll tell you what isn’t: spending a couple of hours pressure washing your patio. That’s exactly what I did the day before my monthly test after getting home from a camping trip. By the time I climbed onto the bike the next morning, I already knew I wasn’t feeling as fresh as I wanted to. But my patio is looking clean. 

The timing was interesting because my previous FTP test had been a huge jump—from 182 watts to 208. Seeing that number pop up on the screen felt like validation that the training was working and that there was still plenty of room to grow. But after doing these tests for a few years, I’ve also learned that fitness rarely moves in a straight line.

The number is useful because it helps guide training, but it’s still just a snapshot of where you are on a particular day. It doesn’t define what you’re capable of when it comes time to perform.

When the test started, I felt the usual optimism. Those opening minutes always leave room for possibility. Maybe I’d surprise myself. Maybe there was another breakthrough waiting.

But as the effort built, the legs never quite came around. The power felt heavier than it should have. And when the test got hard, there was no faking it. All I could do was keep turning the pedals and empty whatever was left in the tank.

When it was over, the result was 198 watts. Not the 208 from last month. Not the 182 from before that. Right in the middle. And standing there afterward, that number felt surprisingly fair.

Sometimes when things are a little off, they settle back toward something more realistic. The more tests you do, the more you realize that fitness isn’t built on breakthroughs or setbacks. It’s built on averages. On showing up month after month and putting together enough good days that the trend slowly moves upward.

You rarely improve as quickly as one great test suggests. But you rarely lose fitness as quickly as one disappointing test makes you fear. Most of the time, it’s just a steady march forward.

Let’s talk about my kit. I’m not really a gear guy. I think it’s easy to get carried away and turn your hobby into shopping. Suddenly you spend more time researching apparel and equipment than actually doing the thing. I want to avoid falling into that trap, because let’s be honest, I’m not at the point where I’m getting any marginal gain from my gear.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of cool stuff out there, and I’d love to try all of it someday. But for the most part, I’ve always been happy keeping things simple.

That changed a little this week. It was Friday after work and I decided I was going shopping. So naturally, I headed to the place every 90s kid spent their Friday night: the mall.

The real reason I’m here was because I’d heard a new Decathlon had opened.  It would have been great if this store had existed when I first got into triathlon four years ago. \

For the upcoming 100-kilometre ride, I wanted to upgrade my cycling kit a little. The Amazon bike shorts I’ve been using have been great value for the money, and they’ve served me well, but spending several hours in the saddle is a different challenge. It felt like the right time to invest in something a little more comfortable.

I ended up picking up a pair of bib shorts and a jersey. Both seemed reasonably priced and, perhaps most importantly, they had plenty of pockets.

Saturday was another trip out to UBC. The weather was beautiful, and my goal was simple: ride the course and spend some time getting familiar with that hill. The thought of climbing it four times during the race is intimidating, but descending it four times might be worse. But what really gets me is knowing that after all of that, there’s still an 18-kilometre run waiting.

One of my favorite parts of these training now is this highway stretch on Marine Drive in UBC. While sometimes it’s windy, it’s also a good spot for me to practice being in the aerobars.

I stopped for a break near the Chan Centre and pulled out another Xact bar for another taste test. This time it was the orange flavour.

Unfortunately, orange-flavoured anything has never really been my thing. Candy, sports drinks, energy bars—unless it’s an actual orange, it always tastes a little artificial to me. I’ll save the full rankings for the end of this series.

What surprised me most about the ride was the distance. The kilometres just seem to add up quickly these days. This didn’t feel like the longest ride I’ve ever done. In fact, it felt pretty normal. But when I got home and looked at the numbers, it turned out to be a new personal best. A few months ago that distance would have felt like a huge achievement. Now it just felt like another training ride. 60km doesn’t seem like anything. 

Speaking of new normals, I’ve decided that long rides deserve a proper reward. My latest tradition is stopping at a brewery afterward for a beer. This time I ended up at Powell Brewing. I love this place. I used to work here, and every time I come back I’m reminded why I enjoyed it so much. After a long ride, sitting down with a beer felt like the perfect way to end the day. For a little while, there was nowhere else I needed to be.

Week 11: It’s Not a Sprint

I’m wearing my new pair of Outway socks this ride, hoping to make this ride a bit more special. This one’s called Night Time Bliss. 

My mind wasn’t in a great place this week. I’ve been struggling with my mental health for years now. Things have felt especially shaky over the last couple of years, and lately I’ve found myself waking up with this overwhelming sense of dread. The future feels uncertain. Every problem feels bigger than it probably is.

Riding my bike helps. It gets me out of the little room where I spend most of my day. It reminds me that there is a world beyond my own thoughts.

At the same time, I’ve noticed that my world has become smaller. I don’t like being around crowds for too long. Even when things are going well, part of me is always waiting for something to go wrong. But the bike gives me a way to escape.

This week I decided to combine the routes from both races I’m preparing for. A lap of Stanley Park and an out and back at UBC. A little taste of both the Vancouver Triathlon and the Vancouver T100. 

I’ve learned that when I’m struggling, it helps to have something on the calendar. Something to look forward to. When my thoughts spiral, the future can feel like a dark and empty place. But then I’ll look at my schedule and see a race, a bike ride, a camping trip, a concert. Suddenly there’s a destination ahead. Not unlike cycling, really. You don’t need to see the entire route. You just need the next landmark.

One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that excitement feels different now. When I was younger, I’d count down the days until something fun happened. These days I don’t get that same rush of anticipation. Instead, I look at an upcoming event and think, “That’ll be nice.”

Maybe that’s part of getting older. Either way, I’m trying to say yes to more little adventures. Even something as simple as exploring a familiar route can feel meaningful right now. It reminds me of the quote from Marcel Proust: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands, but in seeing with new eyes.”

I stopped at Spanish Banks for a break and pulled out my next Xact bar. This one was strawberry. And it’s pretty good. Not overly sweet. Just a solid flavour. Definitely one of the better ones so far.

As I sat there looking out at the water, I couldn’t help thinking about how great Vancouver is on a day like this. The city looked incredible. And for the first time all week, I felt lighter.

Even when a bird decided to poop directly on my aerobars during the ride home, it didn’t bother me that much. A few days ago that might have ruined my mood. This time I cleaned it off and kept going. After all, I knew there was a beer waiting for me at the end of the ride.

I stopped at Red Truck afterward. Sitting there with a cold drink was a reminder that there are still plenty of good moments ahead. And as it turned out, there was another one waiting the very next day.

Sharon was running the BMO Marathon. This was the day she’d been training toward for months, and somehow it had arrived already.

It was an unusually hot day. A tough day to be running a marathon, especially if you had a time goal in mind. But there’s something inspiring about being surrounded by people doing hard things. Thousands of people in discomfort. I love watching people endure something difficult and come out the other side. A real survival story.

Maybe that’s why endurance sports resonate with me so much. They’re a reminder that hard things end. Eventually. It’s not a sprint, but sometimes, if you stick with them long enough, they turn into something worth celebrating.

It was a great day. Great to see so many people out there. And most of all, I’m incredibly proud of Sharon.

Week 12: Rough Roads

I’m 12 weeks into training now, and lately it feels like I’ve been carrying an invisible weight everywhere I go. Because of that, I decided to do my long ride indoors this weekend. Normally I look forward to getting outside and exploring somewhere new, but this time I wanted to sleep in a little and spend more time walking Petey.

We’ve been talking about taking him on longer adventures this summer. In June, we’re heading up to Whistler and spending a night in Pemberton. While Sharon relaxes at the Scandinavian Spa, I’m planning to take Petey out on one of the nearby trails. So in a way, he’s training too.

As for me, I had a feeling that an indoor ride might actually be exactly what I needed. When I’m feeling overwhelmed, even things that I normally enjoy can start to feel like work. A long ride outside means planning a route, thinking about nutrition, checking the weather, deciding where to stop, and dealing with traffic. Usually those things are part of the fun, but this week I didn’t have much energy for any of it.

Instead, I spent three and a half hours on the trainer. There’s something strangely comforting about a ride that asks almost nothing of you except to keep pedaling. The first hour felt slow, but after that my brain gradually settled down. By the second hour I wasn’t really thinking about much at all. I was just watching the time pass and turning the pedals over.

It almost felt like exercising a different muscle completely: my ability to sit with boredom. When you can overcome boredom, you can overcome anything. By the time I got off the bike I felt calmer than I had in days. 

At this point, I’m not following any updated training plan. I’m mostly reusing workouts that have worked well for me in the past and adjusting things as needed. Right now, I’m less concerned about optimizing every session and more concerned about maintaining the routine. I’ve been feeling burnt out enough already, and I don’t want training to become another thing I overthink.

The next day we headed out to Maple Ridge. As much as part of me wanted to stay home and rest, I was also excited because I finally had a chance to test out my new bike rack.

I picked up a Saris Bones EX 2 recently because I’m hoping to do more adventures farther from home. Between bringing Petey along and carrying all of our gear, having the bike outside the car frees up a lot of space.

The only catch is that I don’t have a hitch, so this is one of those racks that straps directly onto the vehicle. I’ll admit I was a little nervous the first time I loaded my bike onto it. Driving around the block, I kept glancing in the mirror every few seconds just to make sure everything was still attached. Thankfully it survived its maiden voyage.

Once we arrived, I headed out for a ride through the farm roads around Maple Ridge. Ever since getting aerobars, I’ve wanted to ride somewhere with long uninterrupted stretches of road where I could settle into position and just lock in for a while. After spending most of my time riding through Vancouver, being surrounded by fields and open sky felt refreshing. At least for a little while.

The roads eventually became rougher than I expected. The pavement was cracked, uneven, and full of potholes. Instead of cruising along in the aero position, I found myself rattled, shaken up from the bumpy roads. It was not a smooth ride.

But I kept going because I had a destination in mind. At the end of the road was this boat launch at the edge of Pitt River. It’s funny how often cycling takes me to places that are technically close to home but that I probably never would have visited otherwise. This wasn’t some remote destination. It wasn’t even that far from where I went camping a few weeks ago. Yet standing there by the river, it still felt like I had travelled a great distance.

While I was there, I tried the lemon Xact bar. As I’ve mentioned before, citrus flavours generally aren’t my favourite, but this one was definitely better than the orange version. Still not near the top of my rankings, but I enjoyed it enough.

This week was difficult, and there were moments where I felt myself slipping into some dark places mentally. There were stretches where I felt numb, and where it was hard convincing myself that any of what I was doing really mattered.

But looking back at the week, I still did the things I said I would. I got my training in. I walked my dog. I tested the gear. I explored somewhere new. None of those things magically fixed how I was feeling permanently, but they reminded me that life keeps moving whether I feel motivated or not. The days pass either way.

I think that’s why I keep making plans and setting goals for myself. They give me something to move toward when things feel uncertain.

This week the roads were rougher than expected, both on and off the bike. But rough roads still go somewhere, and eventually they lead to a turn, a new direction, a fork. Sadly, I’m not there yet. So, I keep moving. 

Week 13: Friends

This week started out so bad that I ended up taking a mental health day from work. I spent most of that day reading and hanging out with Petey. No training. No productivity. It helped, at least temporarily. My eyes felt less tired and I finally got a chance to slow down for a moment. But a day off isn’t really a solution. It’s relief. Sometimes necessary relief, but just relief all the same. 

Without getting into too much detail, this was a week where I finally opened up about everything  that had been weighing on me. And while nothing changed overnight, I could feel something beginning to change. For the first time in a while, what had felt like a stampede toward a cliff started to look more like a tunnel with a light in the distance.

As it turned out, it was perfect timing. A few friends, Joel, Jacey, and Tianna  invited me out for a ride that weekend, and it was what I needed. 

We started later in the day, so I had some extra time to clean my bike. It was much needed. I want to make more time for this as well. The same way I’m trying to make some time for friends. 

It was one of those classic Vancouver summer days. Blue skies, a little windy, but too nice to stay indoors.

My friends in their casual outfits, me in my cycling attire rode out along the Arbutus Greenway before eventually stopping for lunch at a restaurant called Milltown tucked away in South Vancouver. More than anything, it was nice to spend time catching up.

A lot has been happening lately, and if I’m honest, cycling hasn’t been my biggest priority. I’ve been trying to navigate a period of transition in my life. Because of that, training has recently taken a back seat. But riding with friends reminded me why I started doing this in the first place. Because it’s fun. This week, fun was important.

The next day I met up with my buddy, Racman, for a ride. He had recently picked up a new bike. What a beaut! 

We decided to head out toward Deep Cove in North Vancouver. This was a destination I’d always wanted to reach on a bike.

On this ride, I was also testing out some Skratch energy chews. As I’m preparing for these longer rides, I’m thinking more about fueling, so I opened a pack before I left to make it easier to eat a few and keep my energy up along the journey.

We crossed the Second Narrows Bridge, worked our way across North Vancouver, and eventually rolled into Deep Cove where we were greeted by another amazing view. 

How lucky am I to get to experience this? I ask because there is usually this voice in my head that tells me, I don’t deserve nice days, I don’t deserve what I have, I should give it all back. Deep Cove really is one of the most beautiful corners of the city. We just took a moment to soak that all in. A stolen moment I’m keeping. 

From there we made our way across North Vancouver toward Lonsdale Quay. I hadn’t been there in years. I remember standing there looking back at downtown Vancouver and feeling completely mesmerized by the skyline.

Coming back now felt strange. The Lonsdale I remembered doesn’t really exist anymore. There are new towers everywhere. New businesses. New people. 

By the time Racman and I started thinking about lunch, we decided it made more sense to head back toward Vancouver. 

Another month of training had passed. Summer has officially arrived, and the rides are starting to get long enough that I still feel a little nervous every time I head out the door. 

At the same time, my indoor training has started to slip a little this month. Life has been busy, my focus has been elsewhere, and I can’t honestly say that my fitness has taken some huge leap forward.

Which brings me to the next FTP test. At this point, I don’t really view these monthly tests as a measure of success or failure. They’re more like a check-in. A chance to pause, see where I am, and adjust course if I need to.

An FTP test day definitely isn’t a rest day. But it is a chance to regroup. And after everything that’s happened lately, regrouping sounds like exactly what I need. So we’ll see where the numbers land.

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Training for a 100KM Ride, Vancouver Triathlon and T100 Triathlon | 100KM Part 2

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

I’m currently training for a 100 kilometer charity ride and two triathlons this year, and this series is me documenting the process.

This is Part 2.

If you want to follow the journey, stick around.

See Part 1 here.

Week 6: FTP Test 2 Search for the Limit

Is there a better way to start your week than with an FTP test? Probably, but I wanted to get it out of the way, as my weekends were strictly for long rides now. So if I wanted to do a test, it will have to be during the week before or after work. 

I’ve been thinking about this test for a while. It’s redemption, now that I have done a month of training. The whole point with these tests is for me to see progress, and it will be a good motivator if I see some improvement.  

A month ago I tested at 182 watts, and that has been one of my lowest FTP since I started. Not because it was bad, but because it was honest. It just showed me exactly where I was at, whether I liked it or not. I’ve just been trying to rebuild from there.

My weekly training has consisted of one VO2 and one threshold ride where I feel fine for a few minutes and then suddenly I’m hanging on. If I have time, I’ll add another slightly longer recovery ride. But what I try not to skip are the ones on the weekend. I love these longer easy rides. I’m casually exploring, but I also feel something building underneath, because I always come home with wobbly legs.

By the time the test actually came around, it didn’t feel like a big moment. Just the next step.

So Monday, after work, I got to it. That’s something I’ve noticed now—there isn’t really a 100% version of me that shows up for these things.

I like doing ramp tests because of how deceptively easy they start. There’s always this moment where I think, oh, maybe this won’t be that bad. 300 watts? I can do it. No problem. Then it quickly changes. 

It feels like a pretty good metaphor for life. Things start out easy enough that you assume they’ll stay that way. You get comfortable. Then the next moment it gets hard, and part of your brain almost rejects it because you thought you already understood what this was supposed to feel like.

There’s still that point where it gets hard. But this time I push it a bit more. I endure a bit longer. But I always fall apart. That’s also a lesson in life. Eventually, whatever you are doing you will reach your limit. Because you are human and there is always a limit. 

But with limits, there is always progress.

And when it ends, I look down and see two hundred and 8 watts.

That is a huge improvement from 182. It almost feels too high. 

That’s also another lesson in life. When you raise the bar, you challenge yourself forever more. And you are not going to be your best every time. So I’m daunted by this new number, because now all my workouts are going to be that much harder. 

Almost 10% harder. 

But still, all of this is to challenge myself. So… I just got to be ready for that. 

To help with motivation, I got myself a little treat. New socks. I purchased a bunch of these Outway socks. It’s just one of those small things that makes getting out the door feel a bit easier.

On Saturday, I rode out toward New Westminster.

I took the Central Valley Greenway, which is a route I wanted to take for a long time as it goes from Vancouver, across Burnaby, and all the way into New Westminster. New West is the original capital of BC. I went to college here. Met my wife here. I had some of the best memories here. But now I don’t go out there enough and I honestly haven’t done too much exploring here. So this ride felt  like something I needed to check off my list this training block.

These long rides are nice for exploration. And today was a good opportunity for it. 

Another thing I’ve started testing is fueling. It’s something I’ve kind of overlooked, but with longer rides coming, I know I need to figure it out. The good thing is I have an iron stomach. I can usually eat almost anything while training without issues, which is a huge advantage I like bragging about. So for me, it’s less about can I eat it, and more about whether I actually want to. Does it taste good? Is it easy to eat while riding? Am I going to end up covered in sticky crumbs trying to unwrap it on the bike? That’s kind of what I’m figuring out right now.

I’ve been trying these Xact bars, mostly just figuring out which flavors I actually like. I started with the apricot one, and the first thing that surprised me was the texture. For some reason I wasn’t expecting it to be a gummy candy. This was my first ever Xact bar, so I had no idea what I was getting into. And this one was way sweeter than I expected. Like properly sugary. Even the texture caught me off guard too. Softer and stickier than I imagined. I don’t know… maybe it’ll grow on me.

While I was out in New West, I stopped at Caps Bicycle Shop. This is the bike store, I purchased my current road bike from. I was thinking of getting new wheels, but I just didn’t find it financially necessary. The ones I currently have is fine. 

I think about buying a new bike all the time. But the truth is, every year I crash at least once. And little scratches happen. If I bought some really expensive dream bike right now, I’d probably spend half my time worrying about damaging it. I don’t want that relationship with my bike. Right now, I like having something functional. Something with a bit of character already built into it. 

And there’s something nice about not feeling precious with it. One day I’ll upgrade, for sure. But not this year. Right now I kind of want to see how far I can push this bike. How many miles I can get out of it. How much life it still has in it. I like that idea. Because in a weird way, it feels similar to what I’m doing with myself right now too. I’m trying to find the bike’s limit. My limit on this bike.

Right now, this entry level bike still feels fast to me. Sometimes faster than I’m even comfortable with. So I keep thinking… if a Toyota is already fast enough for where I’m at, why do I need a Ferrari right now? That’s kind of the mindset I’m in these days.

Speaking of practicing… this Sunday, instead of going out for another ride, I stayed home and cleaned my bike. I practiced taking the wheels off, trying to understand the machine a little better instead of just riding it. I took a bike mechanic course 2 years ago. I’m not sure how much of that stuck. 

I even spent some time tuning up my wife’s bike. I adjusted a few of the gears and noticed the chain was dropping on the big ring, so I tried to fix that too. I took it out for a quick test ride afterwards, and it felt pretty good. It was actually kind of fun riding her bike. It’s so much more comfortable. 

Challenging yourself isn’t only about going longer or achieving bigger numbers. Sometimes it’s learning the less exciting parts of the process. The things that make you more capable. More self-sufficient. More connected to what you’re actually doing.

Week 7: Mixed Together

This week felt like one of those weeks where training stops being separate from life and gets mixed into everything else. 

On Good Friday, I met up with my buddy, Joel, for a run before we went swimming.

Joel has been joining me for swims for about a month now, which has helped me stay consistent, especially since swimming has dropped down my priority. With just one swim a week, I’ve accepted that my swimming is not going to be that much better. 

As for running, after doing my half marathon a month and a half ago, I’ve cut down my mileage, but this month, I’m hoping to start slowly picking it back up. Two runs a week. 

This was a nice one to get out for. The run always feels easier when you’re chatting with someone, especially on a day off when there’s no pressure attached to it.

And the swim was good too. Right now I’m not following a structured swim plan—I’m mostly just doing lengths—so it can get a little repetitive and hard to stay motivated sometimes. But having someone there changes the whole feeling of it. It feels more like an experience I’m sharing with someone. It’s nice to have that balance. Because consistency is more than discipline, it’s making it easier to show up.

For example, the next day, I had to take my car in for service, which basically meant I had this awkward block of time where I couldn’t really do anything while I wait for my car. Toyota does offer to drive me somewhere and pick me up after the car is ready, but I don’t like the idea of being dropped off at a random place I don’t really need to be. Usually I would just wait at the dealership or go over to the McDonald’s across the street. This time, I decide to bring my bike.

Instead of waiting around, I did my training. And it was probably the best way to spend my time. I rode up Burnaby Mountain toward SFU. I did that climb once last year, and I remember it feeling like a proper suffer-fest.

It still hurts, obviously. But this time it felt familiar. I took the longer way up, which felt super rewarding once I got to the top. And that’s the part I like the most. The top of that climb just feels earned. It’s hard to get that satisfaction waiting at the dealership or having breakfast at McDonald’s. Although a McGriddle would be really good right now. 

What surprised me though is how accessible it’s starting to feel. Not easy—but completing a big climb like this is becoming part of my normal rotation instead of this big challenge ride.

I definitely want to come back and do it a few more times this year. I’ve always liked coming up to SFU. I’ve got a lot of good memories attached to this place. I was never a student here, but a long long time ago I had friends who studied on campus, so I’d come up to visit them, hang out at the bar, wander around the halls a bit. So getting to ride up here now feels kind of nostalgic. 

I like exploring this place, but not all of it is easy to access on a bike. There are a lot of staircases or inclines. But I did manage to take a break at the tracks. These little breaks on the long rides have been nice. I use it as an opportunity to taste test my Xact bar. 

I tried the blackcurrant one, and it was way better than the apricot. Not as sweet and way easier to actually get down. I could actually see myself using that on a run instead of a gel. On the bike though… I don’t know. That feels like a sticky and grainy disaster waiting to happen. But that’s kind of what this week was.

I’m just figuring things out. I’m starting to think that these Xact bars will be great for right before the race not during. Maybe I could have one before a run. But I think I would prefer a gel then one of these bars. Although, this blackcurrant one was pretty good. 

I love how this whole training process has become this mix of old and new. Old places, new experiences. Old routines, new ways of accomplishing them.

A lot of it right now is just figuring out how training fits into regular life. Around car service appointments, errands, work, all the normal stuff. That’s the real challenge most of the time. Not the workouts themselves. Sometimes it just means blending things together the best you can.

So Sunday ended up being more of a rest day. I stayed home, cleaned up a bit, hand-washed my cycling kit. And weirdly, I love that part of it too. Watching all the dirt wash out of the fabric after some long training. There’s something satisfying about it. 

Week 8 — Man Makes Plans

My buddy, Joel invited me to go for another run this week as he’s planning for the Sun Run. We decided to do a lap around Stanley Park, which is simply one of the nicest places in the world to run. 

It’s nice to spend a Friday night by the beach. This is the closest thing to night life for me these days. We finished the run by grabbing a beer and burger. It has been some really stressful weeks of real life, so it’s nice to have these outing sometimes. 

On Saturday, the cycling training continues. Riding across the Lions Gate Bridge is always fun. Every time I go over it, I think about when I was younger and a few friends and I walked across it into North Van just to explore for the day. At the time, it felt like this huge adventure because I barely explored the city growing up. Even going somewhere across the bridge felt exciting and unfamiliar. Now I get to choose to come out here whenever I want. 

For a while I’ve been planning a trip to Nanaimo which is on Vancouver Island. I was thinking of taking my bike there on a solo touring trip. I had it all planned. The route, the ferry ride, the hotel, the cycling I was going to have once i was there. I even got a day off. But I decided to cancel. 

A trip like that sounded really fun and challenging, but with how everything was going in training and life, I just didn’t need that extra riding pressure, so I decided to stay in the city. I was planning another overnight trip, but with the World Cup coming to Vancouver this year, all the hotel in the city is way overpriced. There’s many excuses, but I just have to do it. Just not this year. But I could still ride over the bridge and into West Van today. Nothing is stopping me here. 

I took a little break at Ambelside beach and it’s nice to see Stanley Park from this view. I tried the Green Apple EXact this week. I’m not a big fan of real apples, as I’m allergic to them, but I do like the flavor of green apples. I like how sour they are. And I think this one does it justice. It’s pretty good without being overwhelming. 

I’m not sure how eating something sour will affect you while racing. Like a Warhead. That would be interesting. I might just choke. 

As the time is ticking by and all the things I plan to do has rather happened or is fast approaching, I feel a little overwhelmed. There is a dread that starting to loom over me. A fatigue that is more than just in my body, it’s in my brain as well.

For example, on this ride, I decided to do a lap of Stanley Park as well. This is a race course for the Vancouver Triathlon I’ll be doing in September. September seems so far away at this moment, but I know it’ll soon come. And will I be ready? Will I be ready for my 100Km? Will I be ready for the T100? 

A part of me wants to have just training. No event. I just train to train without the pressure. I’m starting to feel like I have so much pressure these days. Leading up to an event. A presentation. A test. A challenge. But I suppose life is made up of these little milestones and that’s just the way to measure growth. 

Plans. Isn’t that another word for growing? Man makes plans, god laughs. Nothing ever goes exactly the way you want. And, nearly 2 months in, I’m seeing cracks in my training plan. 

Week 9 — Good Medicine

I’m excited for this weekend, because this weekend I’m going camping and it’ll be the first break I’m getting this training block. I have been training hard indoors, doing a couple of high intensity interval workouts per week. And with the higher FTP, the training has been much harder this month than last. So, a full few days to take completely off was good. 

But before I head out to slum it out in the woods, I’m going for a run. It’s a beautiful day. I’ve really come to love camping earlier and later in the year. With forest fires and how busy camp grounds get, it’s nice to beat the crowd. 

I went with my friend Tyler, who’s always great company. We grabbed a good meal first, then headed out to the campsite. It’s actually not that far from the city. You’re not completely out in the middle of nowhere or anything. It feels more like camping in a giant park than full wilderness camping. And that’s really all I need for now.

People prescribe all kinds of things for stress, anxiety, burnout, and depression. And you know what they say when there are this many remedies… there probably is no cure. But these little camping trips, like exercise, do feel like good medicine. 

The campsite we stayed at was nice too. We were right by this little river and Tyler built a little staircase here. It was a really great trip, although my air mattress deflated and I couldn’t figure out where the leak was. I’ll figure out whether I need to buy a new one next time. That was a bummer, because my sleep wasn’t great. In the end, this camping trip was a wonderful way to wrap up another month of training. And what I thought would be a good way to rest up for my next FTP test. 

You know what they say—when you go on a trip, you often come back needing another vacation. And honestly, I felt that. Summer was coming, I got back, and suddenly I’m pressure washing the patio, dealing with all the usual stuff at home, and jumping straight back into work. There’s just a lot happening all at once. I even caught myself thinking, what’s the point of trying to fit my next FTP test in? But then I reminded myself why I’m doing the FTP test in the first place. It’s not supposed to be done in perfect conditions. It’s about seeing where I’m actually at in the middle of everything. 

So with all that in mind, I guess the real question now is… how am I actually going to do this time around?

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Why Reprioritizing Your Passion Project Isn’t Quitting

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

There’s something strange about being halfway through a second draft. You’re no longer at the beginning, where everything feels fresh. And you’re not at the end, where the finish line is in sight.

You’re deep in it.

I’m halfway through the second draft of book two in my trilogy. Years into this project. Hundreds of pages behind me. Hundreds more ahead.

And recently, I stopped writing every day. Not because I hit a wall. There wasn’t some dramatic crash or creative burnout. I chose to slow down.  I looked at everything in my life and realized I couldn’t hold it all at full heat. So I made the adult decision.

Something has to shift. And this time, it was the book.

That was my choice. 

But I feel guilty. I’ve been working on this for so many years that momentum started to feel sacred. Like the only way to honor the time I’d already invested was to keep pushing forward.

I always told myself that consistency was evidence. If I showed up every day, even for half an hour, that meant I was serious. It meant I wasn’t just someone who talks about writing. I was someone doing it.

So when I stopped showing up daily, it felt like I was betraying the version of myself who promised to finish this thing.

You miss a few days and suddenly it feels dangerously close to quitting.

It feels like something alive that I’m neglecting. Like the characters are paused mid-breath. Like they’re waiting for me to come back. It feels a little like not paying attention to your children. 

And the streak made it worse.

It wasn’t that I loved writing every single day.

But I do love knowing that I had written. I loved being the kind of person who didn’t break the chain. There’s something satisfying about being disciplined.

But here’s the part I’m learning. Reprioritizing is not quitting. It’s choosing sustainability over ego.

No one forced me to step back on my novel. Nobody said I couldn’t work on it anymore. I made the choice. I looked at my life, at my responsibilities, at the energy I had, and I realized if I tried to keep pushing at the same pace, something else would suffer.

And I didn’t want that. So I made the call. A responsible call. Slightly disappointing. But necessary.

Sometimes your passion project takes the back seat not because you love it less, but because you’re protecting the conditions that allow you to keep loving it long term.

This trilogy has already survived years. Drafts. Rewrites. Entire structural overhauls. It has grown up with me. It can survive a season of slower progress.

A break is just a comma. What matters is the return. Opening the file again. Even if it’s just to reread a paragraph. Even if it’s just to tweak one sentence. Even if it’s fifteen minutes instead of two hours.

I think about athletes sometimes. The ones who train for years for the Olympic Games. Entire lives structured around a single event. And no matter how successful they are — gold medal, silver, no medal at all — they all have to face the same truth eventually.

The Games end. And they still have a life to live.

They still have to build something beyond the arena. It doesn’t mean the training and the dream didn’t matter. It means their identity can’t be so narrow that it collapses when the season ends.

This book — as important as it feels — can’t be my only path. It has to exist inside a full, balanced life.

So if I slow down…
If the streak breaks…
If I choose responsibility over momentum for a while…

That’s me making sure there’s still a version of me here when it’s time to step back onto the track.

The goal was never perfect consistency. The goal was to finish. And I’m still going to finish. Even if the pace changes. 

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Making Peace With a Forever Project | What Writing Looks Like After Six Years

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

I see writing as a forever project.

There’s always another word. Another sentence. Another book.

The hope is that I get to do this for as long as possible. That’s the real goal. And honestly, it feels endless right now—and that actually gives me a sense of calm. A few years ago, that feeling used to scare me. I was daunted by the idea that this project might never end. I became obsessed with reaching some finish line. But when I think back to why I started this during COVID, I remember I wanted the opposite. I wanted something that would take a long time. Something I could grow alongside.

When you commit to a project that stretches across years, you evolve with it. I haven’t looked at the first draft of the first page of the first book in a long time, but if I did, I doubt I’d recognize it. The beginning wasn’t really the beginning. And it shouldn’t have been.

What’s changed isn’t just the writing—it’s how I work. This month, I finally upgraded my setup. For years, this project lived in notebooks and on a single laptop screen. And now—nearly six years in—I added a second monitor. It sounds small, but it matters. I’m deep in the editing phase, and being able to see two documents at once—comments on one side, the manuscript on the other—makes the process feel more deliberate. Two versions of the same thing, existing at the same time. 

That upgrade marks a new phase of the project. And this is the phase where the grind really shows up.

I’m right in the middle right now—editing the middle of book two of the trilogy. I can’t think of a harder place to be if you’re trying to stay motivated. Especially because this is a second draft. And second drafts are brutal.

This is where you confront all the things you told yourself you’d “figure out later.” This is where you reread sloppy sections and resent the version of yourself who rushed through them. The momentum I had in the first draft now comes in fits and starts. There’s a lot more reading than writing. The work is slower—at least it feels slower.

This month, I wrote every day for twenty-five minutes. And in that time, I edited chapters nine through eleven. Two chapters in a month. About twelve and a half hours of work.

This book has twenty-six chapters.
And then there’s book three.

Yeah… doing that math was a mistake.

Sometimes I think I should speed things up. And now you know why this project is taking so long. Part of me wants to pour everything I have into it. But I also know that I can’t. Not while working full-time, training for a triathlon, making YouTube videos, and still trying to have something that resembles a normal life.

And strangely, I like this balance. When I stop thinking about needing to finish, I feel better. I feel at peace with the project. It becomes a routine. Something I return to. Which I think I talked about in my last video.

It’s hard to explain what writing is to me now. It’s something nobody really cares about. It’s something I barely talk about, because no one wants to hear about a project this vague and this long. Friends and family want something recent to cheer for.

But writing feels more like a birthday.
It’s something you come back to every so often and celebrate the fact that you’re still doing it. You’re still here. You haven’t quit. You’re still creating. Still breathing. Another trip around the sun. A little more progress.

And sometimes, as the world turns, you get small upgrades along the way. This time, it was a new monitor—something to make the journey slightly easier. Which is good, because the work itself isn’t getting easier.

It’s about recognizing when things are hard. And accepting that when it’s hard, it’s going to move more slowly. I curse the writer I was two years ago for leaving me with this messy draft. I curse him for not thinking things through. For making it up as he went.

But… isn’t that life? Making it up as we go.

I think this project is in its adult stage now. I understand that it’s a daily grind. No one is going to finish it for me. If I abandon it, it dies. If I keep showing up—even in small ways—it keeps growing.

Like me.

And honestly, I don’t think there’s another upgrade that will suddenly make this easy. I don’t need a third monitor. Sometimes you already have everything you need, and what’s left is just the work. It’s like buying a faster bike but still being afraid to descend. The upgrade only matters when you’ve leveled up.

It’s like that old saying: When the student is ready, the master appears.

For now, it’s about maintaining inertia. Keeping momentum. Filming myself every day helps. And knowing there’s a break at the end helps too. You learn these little tricks as you get older. You learn how you work. And at this stage—when things feel the hardest—this is enough.

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One Year with Petey | What One Year With a Rescue Dog Really Looks Like

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

We adopted Petey a year ago. At the time, we weren’t sure what to expect. He had come from a shelter and carried a lot of fear with him—fear of people, fear of other dogs, fear of every little sound. The first few months were a lot of learning, and honestly, a little bit of wondering if we were up to the challenge.

In those early months, it was all about getting used to home life. He barked at every noise and chewed on anything soft—blankets and pillows were his favorites. 

We tried having him sleep in a crate that first night. That was a mistake. We put a lot of effort into crate training, but it ended up doing more harm than good. We kept trying to help him gain some independence. But even when we left him alone in our room, he could never fully settle. After being abandoned on a highway and then locked up in a shelter, confinement was understandably hard for him.

The hardest part was taking him out for walks. My wife would wake up early just to take him out to do his business—beating the traffic, getting ahead of the neighborhood, before other people and dogs filled the sidewalks. Then she’d come back home, and Petey would crawl back into bed with me for a couple more hours. It was a strange period, one that now feels like another lifetime ago.

But slowly, things began to change. The house became familiar. Less scary. He started to understand that this was a safe space where no dog was going to sneak up behind him, and where he could actually relax and take a nap. The little wins felt huge. By the end of that quarter, Petey was settling in ways we never thought possible.

And maybe one of the biggest achievements in the first three months was being able to wean him completely off the medication he was on in the shelter. Without the drugs fogging him up or adding tension, his real personality slowly started to come through.

He still chewed blankets and pillows… but we’ll call that progress.

As spring arrived, Petey’s world began to stretch beyond a five-block radius. This is when the real tests started—park walks, new places, brief encounters with other dogs, and slowly, very slowly, being around strangers. But each time he made it through a hard moment, he came out with a little more confidence. Every new experience chipped away at the old ones, rewriting and replacing them.

We took him to events, hoping the exposure would help—and honestly, to run a few tests, since we had a lot planned for the summer. Some moments were rough: barking at passing dogs and people, or panicking when my wife or I walked away to step into a store. But over time, something shifted. He started to realize that the world isn’t always dangerous. That we would always come back. And what once felt unbearable slowly became just a mild inconvenience to him.

We noticed it most on our walks. Instead of staying on constant alert, he began to sniff more, linger a little longer, and actually enjoy his surroundings.

At home, there were fewer and fewer uncontrollable, crazy moments. During the first few months, the hours between 1pm and 4pm were Petey’s crazy hours, where it would rather demand constant attention, freak out over nothing, or chew on things. This made it hard for us to work. So we were glad that this was just a passing phase, something he was able to grow out of. 

Step by waddle-y step, Petey started trusting not just us, but the world around him too.

By the third quarter, it felt like Petey had found his stride. Summer arrived, and with it came longer walks, new trails, and lazy naps in the sun.

We had always believed that underneath the fear was a sweet personality waiting to come through. Over the summer, it finally did. He was now enjoying his life to the fullest.

We started leaving him home alone for short stretches—an hour at a time—watching him through our little security camera. We were relieved to see that after a few howls, he’d curl up in his bed. He wasn’t completely relaxed, but he wasn’t overwhelmed either. Mostly, he just seemed grumpy.

We took him on a few trips that summer, and each time he surprised us. He would sniff, explore, and often lead the way. One of those trips was to Pender Island, where he stayed in a hotel for the first time. It was challenging—for him and for us. 

The ferry ride was tough, and dog-friendly hotels come with a lot of dogs wandering around, which can still send him into a panic. It would have been easier, and definitely more relaxing, to leave him at home. But pushing him to come along ended up being another big step forward.

And we could see the difference afterward. The moments of uncontrollable fear were fewer and farther between. Back at home, he started napping more during the day. Watching him enjoy the small, ordinary joys of summer, he felt like a completely different dog from who he was six months earlier.

As the seasons changed again, Petey was looking so much healthier. We were starting to recognize all of his little irritabilities—his sensitive skin, his sensitive stomach, and his sensitive disposition. Shelter trauma still shows up from time to time. He still startles occasionally if a dog starts barking on the TV, and he still doesn’t exactly love it when kids run toward him.

We’ve also been able to leave him home alone for longer stretches without him getting anxious. What started as forty-five minutes has slowly grown into a few hours. We played chill music on YouTube while we were away, just so there was always some background sound. That way, bumps in the building, beeping in the alley, or random noises wouldn’t immediately send him into a fit. It meant our algorithm got completely taken over by lo-fi and jazzy playlists, but that’s a small sacrifice.

Walks feel more relaxed. He’s even gotten really good at walking with a loose leash. He still has his moments of stubbornness, but he’s becoming a dog who can enjoy life without constant fear. 

What surprised me the most this year was the change in his physical appearance, especially his eyes. It’s wild how much they’ve changed in a year. It really shows how stress, anxiety, fear, and abandonment can shape an animal, whether it’s a dog or a human. 

We used to joke that he just had Steve Buscemi eyes. Turns out, once he felt safe, they were more Zooey Deschanel eyes.

Looking back over this year, it’s hard to believe it’s the same dog. We were warned that adopting him would completely shake up our lives. And yes, the first few months were stressful—and yes, we still sometimes have to wake up in the middle of the night to take him for an urgent late-night poop or have to cross the street a few times to avoid dogs or loud families—but honestly, life with a dog has made us happier than life without one. 

We were told Petey might never be cuddly, might never learn anything new, and might never be able to go anywhere with us. None of that turned out to be true. Over the past year, we’ve watched him transform from an anxious, fearful little dog into a confident, happy sidekick. And this is just the first year.

Petey has shown us patience, resilience, and the joy of learning to trust a whole new world. If this year is any indication, he still has a lot more adventures—and growth—ahead of him.

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How to Restart Your Writing Habit After a Long Break

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

It’s good to be back. After taking a month off from editing my novel trilogy, it feels great to return to it with fresh eyes. The last few months of summer were hectic, and I was running on fumes. As much as I wanted to power through, I knew a break was better than burning out.

Over the last few years, I’ve made a ton of progress — getting drafts of all three books down on paper was a huge milestone. But now I’m deep in the editing phase, making sure each story flows not just on its own, but as part of a bigger arc. Think of it like this: each book has its own beginning, middle, and end — but together, books one, two, and three form one larger story with the same structure.

It’s exciting, but it’s also a grind. I’m chipping away at it day by day while balancing the rest of life. By the end of summer, I was training for my triathlon and working full-time, and something had to give. I believe you can do everything — just not all at once. So, for a while, writing took a backseat.

I’ll admit, I was nervous about stepping away. I worried I’d lose momentum or that this would be the moment my project quietly died — that fear every long-term creator knows: put something down for “just a bit,” and never pick it up again.

But working on this project has been part of my life for five years now — it’s built into my routine, like cleaning the house or tending the garden. When I take a break, it’s not like quitting; it’s more like letting the plants grow wild for a bit. Eventually, I’ll come back to prune and tidy things up.

I didn’t even stop at a neat checkpoint — I was mid-edit, right in the middle of Chapter 3 of Book 2. That actually made it easier to return. There wasn’t a buildup or mental block. I just jumped back in where I left off.

So yeah, it might feel like starting over, but it’s not. It’s more like reconnecting with an old friend. You know that feeling when you haven’t seen someone in ages, and you wonder if it’ll be awkward — but then, as soon as you meet, you pick up right where you left off. That’s what returning to my writing felt like.

And as the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’m more excited about this project than ever. Is it going to be the greatest thing ever written? Probably not — but that’s not the goal. Nobody visits Italy thinking, “I’m going to be the best person to ever visit Italy.” You go because you love the experience. Writing is like that for me. With each revision, I see the story sharpen and come alive. I’m polishing the stone, adding color to the outline, and watching my vision take shape.

So here’s what’s next: to stay accountable, I’m starting a new monthly series documenting my progress — the writing, the challenges, the little breakthroughs.

It won’t be easy, but I’m committed. I feel refreshed, inspired, and ready to keep going. This years-long journey still fills me with an energy I can’t quite put into words.

My name’s Elliot. I make videos about the endurance of creativity and life in this wild, dystopian world.

If you’re working on your own story and want some support and inspiration along the way, follow this series, check out the playlist, and don’t forget to subscribe.

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Joan is Awful: Black Mirror, Can It Happen?

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

Before we dive into the events of Joan Is Awful, let’s flash back to when this episode first aired: June 15, 2023.

In 2023, the tech industry faced a wave of major layoffs. Meta cut 10,000 employees and closed 5,000 open positions in March. Amazon followed, letting go of 9,000 workers that same month. Microsoft reduced its workforce by 10,000 employees in early 2023, while Google announced its own significant layoffs, contributing to a broader trend of instability in even the largest, most influential tech companies.

Netflix released Depp v. Heard in 2023. This three-part documentary captures the defamation trial between Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. The series explored the viral spectacle that surrounded it online, showing how social media, memes, and influencer commentary amplified every moment. 

Meanwhile, incidents of deepfakes surged dramatically. In North America alone, AI-generated videos and audio clips increased tenfold in 2023 compared to the previous year, with a 1,740% spike in malicious use. 

In early 2023, a video began circulating on YouTube and across social media that seemed to show Elon Musk in a CNBC interview. The Tesla CEO appeared calm and confident as he promoted a new cryptocurrency opportunity. It looked authentic enough to fool thousands. But the entire thing was fake.

That same year, the legal system began to catch up. An Australian man named Anthony Rotondo was charged with creating and distributing non-consensual deepfake images on a now-defunct website called Mr. Deepfakes. In 2025, he admitted to the offense and was fined $343,500.

Around the world, banks and cybersecurity experts raised alarms as AI manipulation began to breach biometric systems, leading to a new wave of financial fraud. What started as a novelty filter had become a weapon capable of stealing faces, voices, and identities.

All of this brings us to Black Mirror—Season 6, Episode 1: Joan Is Awful.

The episode explores the collision of personal privacy, corporate control, and digital replication. Joan’s life is copied, manipulated, and broadcast for entertainment before she even has a chance to tell her own story. The episode asks: How much of your identity is still yours when technology can exploit and monetize it? And is it even possible to reclaim control once the algorithm has taken over?

In this video, we’ll unpack the episode’s themes, explore real-world parallels, and ask whether these events have already happened—and if not, whether they are still plausible in our tech-driven, AI-permeated world. 

Streaming Our Shame

In Joan is Awful, we follow Joan, an everyday woman whose life unravels after a streaming platform launches a show that dramatizes her every move. But the show’s algorithm doesn’t just imitate Joan’s life; it distorts it for entertainment. Her friends and coworkers watch the exaggerated version of her, and start believing it’s real. 

The idea that media can reshape someone’s identity isn’t new—it’s been happening for years, only now with AI, it happens faster, cheaper, and more convincingly.

Reality television has long operated in this blurred zone between truth and manipulation. Contestants on shows like The Bachelor and Survivor have accused producers of using editing tricks to create villains and scandals that never actually happened.

One of the most striking examples comes from The Bachelor contestant Victoria Larson, who accused producers of using “Frankenbiting”, a technique of editing together pieces of dialogue from different times to make her appear like she was spreading rumors or being manipulative. She said the selective editing destroyed her reputation and derailed her career.

Then there’s the speed of public judgment in the age of social media. In 2020, when Amy Cooper—later dubbed “Central Park Karen”—called the police on a Black bird-watcher, the footage went viral within hours. She was fired, denounced, and doxxed almost overnight.

But Joan is Awful also goes deeper, showing how even our most intimate spaces are no longer private. 

In 2020, hackers breached Vastaamo, a Finnish psychotherapy service, stealing hundreds of patient files—including therapy notes—and blackmailing both the company and individuals. Finnish authorities eventually caught the hacker, who was sentenced in 2024 for blackmail and unauthorized data breaches.

In this episode, Streamberry’s AI show thrives on a simple principle: outrage. They turn Joan’s humiliation into the audience’s entertainment. The more uncomfortable she becomes, the more viewers tune in. It’s not far from reality.

A 2025 study published in ProMarket found that toxic content drives higher engagement on social media platforms. When users were shielded from negative or hostile posts, they spent 9% less time per day on Facebook, resulting in fewer ads and interactions.

By 2025, over 52% of TikTok videos featured some form of AI generation—synthetic voices, avatars, or deepfake filters. These “AI slop” clips fill feeds with distorted versions of real people, transforming private lives into shareable, monetized outrage.

Joan is Awful magnifies a reality we already live in. Our online world thrives on manipulation—of emotion, of data, of identity—and we’ve signed the release form without even noticing.

Agreeing Away Your Identity

One of the episode’s most painful scenes comes when Joan meets with her lawyer, asking if there’s any legal way to stop the company from using her life as entertainment. But the lawyer points to the fine print—pages of complex legal language Joan had accepted without a second thought. 

The moment is both absurd and shockingly real. How many times have you clicked “I agree” without reading a word?

In the real world, most of us do exactly what Joan did. A 2017 Deloitte survey conducted in the U.S. shows that over 90% of users accept terms and conditions without reading them. Platforms can then use that data for marketing, AI training, or even creative content—all perfectly legal because we “consented.”

The dangers of hidden clauses extend far beyond digital services. In 2023, Disneyland attempted to invoke a controversial contract clause to avoid liability for a tragic allergic reaction that led to a woman’s death at a Disney World restaurant in Florida. The company argued that her husband couldn’t sue for wrongful death because—years earlier—he had agreed to arbitration and legal waivers buried in the fine print of a free Disney+ trial.

Critics called the move outrageous, pointing out that Disney was trying to apply streaming service terms to a completely unrelated event. The case exposed how corporations can weaponize routine user agreements to sidestep accountability.

The episode also echoes recent events where real people’s stories have been taken and repackaged for profit.

Take Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced founder of Theranos. Within months of her trial, her life was dramatized into The Dropout. The Hulu mini-series was produced in real time alongside Holmes’s ongoing trial. As new courtroom revelations surfaced, the writers revised the script. The result was a more layered, unsettling portrayal of Holmes and her business partner Sunny Balwani—a relationship far more complex and toxic than anyone initially imagined.

In Joan is Awful, the show’s AI doesn’t care about Joan’s truth, and in our world, algorithms aren’t so different. Every click, every “I agree,” and every trending headline feeds an ecosystem that rewards speed over accuracy and spectacle over empathy.

When consent becomes a view or a checkbox and stories become assets, the line between living your life and licensing it starts to blur. And by the time we realize what we’ve signed away, it might already be too late.

Facing the Deepfake

In Joan Is Awful, the twist isn’t just that Joan’s life is being dramatized; it’s that everyone’s life is. What begins as a surreal violation spirals into an infinite mirror. Salma Hayek plays Joan in the Streamberry series, but then Cate Blanchett plays Salma Hayek in the next layer. 

The rise of AI and deepfake technology is reshaping how we understand identity and consent. Increasingly, people are discovering their faces, voices, or likenesses used in ads, films, or explicit content without permission.

In 2025, Brazilian police arrested four people for using deepfakes of celebrity Gisele Bündchen and others in fraudulent Instagram ads, scamming victims out of nearly $3.9 million USD. 

Governments worldwide are beginning to respond. Denmark’s copyright amendment now treats personal likeness as intellectual property, allowing takedown requests and platform fines even posthumously. In the U.S., the 2025 TAKE IT DOWN Act criminalizes non-consensual AI-generated sexual imagery and impersonation.

In May 2025, Mr. Deepfakes, one of the world’s largest deepfake pornography websites, permanently shut down after a core service provider terminated operations. The platform had been online since 2018 and hosted more than 43,000 AI-generated sexual videos, viewed over 1.5 billion times. Roughly 95% of targets were celebrity women, but researchers identified hundreds of victims who were private individuals.​

Despite these legal advances, a fundamental gray area remains. As AI becomes increasingly sophisticated, it is getting harder to tell whether content is drawn from a real person or entirely fabricated. 

An example is Tilly Norwood, an AI-generated actress created by Xicoia. In September 2025, Norwood’s signing with a talent agency sparked major controversy in Hollywood. 

Her lifelike digital persona was built using the performances of real actors—without their consent. The event marked a troubling shift. As producers continue to push AI-generated actors into mainstream projects.

Actress Whoopi Goldberg voiced her concern, saying, “The problem with this, in my humble opinion, is that you’re up against something that’s been generated with 5,000 other actors.”

“It’s a little bit of an unfair advantage,” she added. “But you know what? Bring it on. Because you can always tell them from us.”

In response to the backlash, Tilly’s creator Eline Van der Velden shared a statement:
“To those who have expressed anger over the creation of our AI character, Tilly Norwood: she is not a replacement for a human being, but a creative work – a piece of art.”

When Joan and Salma Hayek sneak into the Streamberry headquarters, they overhear Mona Javadi, the executive behind the series, explaining the operation. She reveals that every version of Joan Is Awful is generated simultaneously by a quantum computer, endlessly creating new versions of real people’s lives for entertainment. Each “Joan,” “Salma,” and “Cate” is a copy of a copy—an infinite simulation. And it’s not just Joan; the system runs on an entire catalog of ordinary people. Suddenly, the scale of this entertainment becomes clear—it’s not just wide, it’s deep, with endless iterations and consequences.

At the 2025 Runway AI Film Festival, the winning film Total Pixel Space exemplified how filmmakers are beginning to embrace these multiverse-like AI frameworks. Rather than following a single script, the AI engine dynamically generated visual and narrative elements across multiple variations of the same storyline, creating different viewer experiences each time.

AI and deepfake technologies are already capable of realistically replicating faces, voices, and mannerisms, and platforms collect vast amounts of personal data from our everyday lives. Add quantum computing, algorithmic storytelling, and the legal gray areas surrounding consent and likeness, and the episode’s vision of lives being rewritten for entertainment starts to feel less like fantasy.

Every post, every photo, every digital footprint feeds algorithms that could one day rewrite our lives—or maybe already are. Maybe we can slip the loop, maybe we’re already in it, and maybe the trick is simply staying aware that everything we do is already being watched, whether by the eyes of the audience or the eyes of the creators that is still seeking inspiration. 

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Bungee Jumping vs Skydiving: Which One’s Actually Scarier?

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

Skydiving was something I always wanted to do. And this summer with the encouragement of my mother. We went and did it. 

It was a lot of fun, and the best way for me to describe that experience was that it’s like a dream, where you wake up and you still have fragments of that memory, and you are just trying to piece it all together and feel that same feeling again. I definitely see how it can be addictive. 

I felt pretty calm the whole time. The night before, I fell asleep listening to a podcast about D-Day and about how the paratroopers had to drop into France in the dead of night. I found that to be quite comforting as it allowed me to put that into perspective and come to terms with my own courage and how I’m doing it recreationally and not dropping into a war zone. 

My approach when it comes to doing something stressful like that, whether it’s bungee jumping or skydiving, is to turn my brain off. Once you do that, you just remember what you have to do. This is actually really easy for me, because as a job, I’m a marketing strategist. So I spend a lot of time during the workday thinking about things. A lot of things. 

So when I get an opportunity to turn off my brain, I enjoy it. When I get an opportunity, to follow some simple instructions like once the door to the airplane opens, pull your leg over, and just hang there. That’s easy. So yeah. 

Once I got flung out and into the free fall, that was a rush. It’s very windy, and the world feels so distorted and strange — it doesn’t even seem real. That’s the biggest difference from bungee jumping, because when you’re bungee jumping, the world comes right at you, and that feeling of plummeting toward the ground is so real and raw. When you’re falling from 10,000 feet, you don’t get that same experience.

When I was bungee jumping, especially when it’s your first time, my instincts just took over, and I started reaching out and grabbing things to stop myself, but there is obviously nothing. Doing that kind of pulled me off balance, and as you can see, I got twisting out of control. So fun. 

So yeah, back to skydiving. You’re just free-falling for a few seconds — probably between 10 and 30 — not long, before the parachute deploys. And that’s such a relief. It’s kind of the same feeling as when the bungee cord catches you and you don’t splat on the ground. There aren’t many feelings like that in life, so that was great.

From this point on, the experience is actually quite similar between skydiving and bungee jumping. You get this second ride — a second experience. With bungee jumping, you’re bouncing up and down, and the second bounce is almost as high as the first drop. That’s great because now you know the cord will hold you. With skydiving, it’s more like sightseeing — I was just trying to soak it all in.

But what really made me want to do it again was that my tandem partner, the instructor, gave me the handle to control the parachute, letting me steer. I didn’t know how to do it properly, but when you really pulled on it, it felt like a rollercoaster drop — you get swung sideways and really feel the Gs. That was awesome, and I would love to feel that again. I don’t get to go on too many rollercoasters these days, but that was incredible.

When it comes down to it, skydiving and bungee jumping often get clumped together, but they’re actually very different experiences. I’d say if you really want that “I’m going to die” feeling, bungee jumping is for you. I’ve done bungee jumping both forward and backward, and I’d recommend going forward so you can see the world coming at you — although backward is really scary too.

If you want more of a rollercoaster ride, then go skydiving. I don’t know if I can explain it any better. 

Both are so much fun, and I recommend giving both a try it’s so worth it! 

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Traveling With Our Rescue Dog for the First Time | Pender Island, BC

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

We adopted Petey about nine months ago, and at the time, we weren’t sure if he’d ever be stable enough to travel with us. The shelter warned us that because of his fear, he might never even manage a walk in the park—his anxiety around dogs and kids was that severe.

But little by little, he surprised us. First, he stopped barking at every sound in the neighborhood. Then he quit chewing our blankets and pillows. Eventually, he began to enjoy walks and car rides. Sure, he still gets spooked by the occasional dog, but now he can be redirected—something that felt impossible in those first three months.

Petey has proven not only the shelter wrong, but also shown us just how smart and loving he really is. Underneath his trauma, there’s a sweet, capable dog. We know that if we keep nudging him forward, he’ll grow into the great dog we believe he can be.

So, with that in mind, we decided it was time for Petey’s first trip: Pender Island, one of the Gulf Islands off Vancouver Island. His first ferry ride. His first hotel stay. His first night away from home.

Would he rise to the challenge—or would the stress unravel everything?

We packed early, making sure to bring along his donut bed and blanket for comfort. Because my wife and I get anxious about travel too, we gave ourselves a big buffer. While we waited, we walked Petey around Tsawwassen Mills Mall. Everything was closed, but it helped burn off his energy.

We lucked out and squeezed onto an earlier ferry, saving ourselves two hours. The catch: we were the last car on, parked at an incline that made the ride a bit shaky. Petey struggled at first—barking whenever I left the car, jittery on walks near other dogs. The dog deck was a non-starter. So we stayed with him in the back seat until he finally settled down for a nap.

At last, the ferry docked at Otter Bay on Pender Island. Our first stop was Hope Bay, where we barely stepped out before an off-leash dog came trotting over. Friendly or not, it would’ve set Petey off, so we ducked down to the water’s edge and enjoyed the view from a safe distance.

Next, we checked out the island’s main junction—a bakery, liquor store, and a few restaurants. It seemed to be the hub of Pender, and just about everyone had a dog. Normally that would’ve been great, but with Petey, it made things tricky. We barely left the car.

We grabbed food to go. And drove until we found some peace at Magic Lake. There, on a quiet bench with no dogs in sight, we ate our sandwiches and drank our coffee while Petey anxiously sniffed around the tall grass.

From there, we drove to Mortimer Spit, a narrow strip of land between the two parts of Pender. The roads were rough, but the unique views were worth it—it ended up being my favorite spot. Petey seemed to enjoy it too.

His favorite, however, was the Enchanted Forest Park. Quiet, shaded trails, no other dogs—a perfect first real hike for him. He loved it, though by then he was exhausted; apart from a short ferry nap, he’d been going non-stop.

We tried checking into our hotel early, but our room wasn’t ready. So we drove to Gowlland Point, a rocky beach at the southeastern tip. The scenery was stunning, but it was hard to enjoy with Petey on high alert. Dogs, people, and one overly confident old man who couldn’t believe any dog wouldn’t like him—none of it helped.

Finally, we made it to our hotel, Poet’s Cove Resort, right on the water. Getting Petey inside was rough—an off-leash dog greeted us at the door, setting him off. If it wasn’t for that dog, I think Petey could have done much better. I have thoughts on off-leash dogs, for sure, especially when their owners aren’t able to call them back. Alas, we can’t control other people. 

Anyways, once in the room, he relaxed. He bounced around the bed, explored the new space, and slowly grew more comfortable when I had to step out. We give him a C plus. A pass, but also a lot of room for improvement. 

The resort itself was wonderful: a balcony with ocean views, a restaurant kind enough to pack meals to go, and even a deep bathtub that made up for skipping the crowded pool and hot tub. We ended the evening quietly in the room. Petey curled up on his donut bed and later snuggled with us like he always does.

The trip wasn’t easy. Without him, it would’ve been simpler, maybe even more relaxing—but it wouldn’t have been the same. He wasn’t perfect; his triggers are still there. But compared to the scared dog we brought home last December, he was unrecognizable.

And the biggest surprise came after. Back home, he was calmer. During the workday, instead of chewing things for attention, he started napping peacefully by our side. The trip gave him a boost of confidence—and for that alone, it was worth it.

As for Pender Island? It’s small, hilly, and full of bees. Beautiful, yes, and we saw most of it in one trip. I’m not sure we’ll rush back, but it will always be special: the first place Petey traveled, something we never thought possible.

I can’t wait for more trips with him. He’s a smart, stubborn little guy—and while he’s still a bit crazy, I wouldn’t bet against him becoming the good boy we always knew he could be.

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