Juice Juice Baby...

"I submit that scientists have not yet explored the hidden possibilities of the innumerable seeds, leaves and fruits for giving the fullest possible nutrition to mankind." ~ Mahatma Gandhi

I think it's safe to say that I have been exploring nutrition and in all it's various forms since I was about 16 years old.  In other words, for a very long time now.  I have battled weight gain since I was about that age too.

In my 20's I was super fit.  I taught aerobics (we are talking the 1990's here...), was involved in martial arts - I even assisted teaching that, and hit the gym to lift weights 5 days a week.  Then I went to university in my late 20s and everything stopped while I controlled panic attacks about not wanting to fail.  Bad food and alcohol were part of the regiment to get through school, sadly exercise was not.

In my 30's I got back onto the health train and was in great shape.  I went back into the gym, my happy place, lifted weights, and took up running.  I was lean and muscular and loved it.  I ate fairly healthy during that time, but no necessarily whole foods.  Throughout this time I still suffered from IBS (irritable bowel syndrome).  That had been plaguing me since I was a child.  My late 30's brought me into the world of triathlon and Ironman.

I went into this phase lean and came out of it 20 lbs heavier.  Granted I was eating more, but hey, when you are swimming 12 km per week, and going for 100+ km bike rides you need to eat more!  Still, I wasn't gaining weight in a good way.  It was jiggly weight and it frustrated me.  I only know of a handful of others who experienced this phenomena - everyone else seemed to become lean mean triathlon machines!

I am now into my 40's.  I moved back to my beloved West Coast, I stopped the triathlon gig, got back into the gym and the trails, turned to a whole food, solely plant based diet and started to lean up again.  Even better, my allergies subsided and my IBS disappeared.

Forty is a glorious age to be, but there are it's challenges.  This, for me at least, is when your body gives you a hint at what aging may be like. Stuff starts to happen. For me it was major surgery a year ago that, due to some unforeseen complications, led to me not being able to workout, the way I was used to, for a longer period that I would have wanted.

The weight started to come back on.  Worse yet...the jiggly was back.  This is when I learned that it was harder to get the weight off.  At least this was the case for me and my body type.  I stuck to my whole food plant based diet, but I needed a jolt.  My metabolism needed a jolt.  I started working with a holistic nutritionist, Cara.  Her words "You eat a super clean diet, but you aren't seeing results. You are going to be a fun challenge."

That challenge led me to do a juice/smoothie cleanse for 10 days.  It was probably a good thing I watched the movie 'Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead'.  Joe Cross and Phil Staples juiced for 60 days in order to  lose some serious weight and reverse an autoimmune disease they both had.  The movie provided some support for this journey, not to mention a juice recipe!

I did some preparation before the cleanse so that it wouldn't be a horrible shock to my body.  I cut down on the grains, nuts and seeds I ate and boosted my fruits and veggies.  I also gave up the odd soy chai latte and vegan cookies that I had! The first few days I did that I was tired and had a three day headache.  Classic symptoms of a detox that usually occurs during a cleanse.  I hadn't even started the juice/smoothie phase yet!

I told my cousin's wife, Lisa, that I was doing the cleanse and she said she would do it with me.  I was super excited because most of the people in my life think my food habits are weird.  How to explain a cleanse?

My regime for the next 10 days was juice in the morning, smoothie at lunch, raw soup for dinner.  I gotta say first four days of the cleanse pretty much sucked.  I like food. I like chewing food.  I loved my juice, smoothies and soup, but I wanted something else. I wasn't hungry but I felt like I should be eating.  If that makes any sense. I was also always cold! Internally freezing no matter what.   Lisa had it worse than me though - she hadn't done the prep before and jumped right in.  The result, she had a rash, diarrhea, and acne.  Insane!

Then Day 5 hit and I had this crazy level of energy that I hadn't had in, well, I don't know if I have ever had that level of energy!!  I felt fantastic.  Sugar cravings were gone, and I wasn't having any of the 'you should be eating more food' thoughts.  I realized I didn't need as much food as I was used to pounding back.  Granted I had been eating 'clean' foods before, but you can still be eating too much!

What was in all the liquid meals I was making?  A TON of greens.  I went through 2 head of kale, 2 cucumbers, a bunch of celery, 4 apples, tons of berries, a pear, ginger, lemon and a head of romaine lettuce all by lunch.  Lots of fruit in the smoothie, a wide variety of veggies at dinner - broccoli, peppers, zucchini, tomato, carrots etc.  My body was not lacking in micronutrients.  Now here's a weird little fact...with all the raw foods I was eating (my soups are 'raw' as well - I make them in the Vitamix) I didn't have gas.  What's up with that??  Not that I was complaining.

The end result is that I feel great, I have a kickstarted my metabolism (I lost 7 lbs) and I have started to lean out again.  I learned a valuable lesson when it comes to the type of food I put in my body, and how much I need.   Today was the first day that I got to eat food that wasn't in liquid form.  Funny thing is, the first thing I made was some 'mean green juice'.  I really do love it.  I also had a banana with it...just for something to chew!

Oh, and I had some strange cravings while I was on this cleanse...at the beginning I craved cheese, which I haven't eaten in YEARS...towards the end I was craving grapefruit and a collard green wrap stuffed with veggies.  The grapefruit I had today was divine - although I only ate 1/4 of it - and I am just about to make some veggie pate for my collard greens wraps.  YUMMM!

I had been stocking up the fridge with fresh veggies and fruits all week, but today I expanded on my selection.  Behold my bounty!  This, of course, is not the end of this story.  I am a firm believer that the top five diseases in the North America would be less prevalent if people started eating a whole food diet. So I will continue researching all I can about the whole food lifestyle and tweaking my plant based diet.

If anyone has given thought to doing a cleanse, I would highly recommend it.  But the whole foods way - not the crazy herbal eat nothing way.  Oh, and Lisa made it through the cleanse despite the challenges she had the first few days.  I'm so proud of her!  I was glad to have a smoothie buddy too.  I seriously don't know how the 'Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead' guys did this for 60 days...and they were just on juice. Wow.

Resources that are great for learning about nutrition and your health are 'The China Study' by Dr Colin Campbell, 'Whole Foods to Thrive' by Brendan Brazier, and 'Eat to Live' by Dr Joel Fuhrman.

Peace out my lovelies...and go enjoy a juice today!

Postscript....  
It's been four days since I ended the juice smoothie cleanse and I feel great.  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I can honestly say I feel like someone has hit a reset button within me.  Nothing I have done in the past has rid me of my sugar cravings, or the constant feeling like I should eat even though I just did (trust me I was never starving myself - I love food!), or the lightheadedness I would sometimes get throughout the day no matter if I just finished eating or not.   I have energy.  I feel light.  It's wonderful!

A is for Adventure...and Arse.

"To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." ~ Author Unknown

Today I went on a trail run.  I met up with a couple of friends and off we went.  We were running up the Canyon, which is one of my most favourite routes.  I used to run this route all the time before my surgery and today would be the first time in a year that I would give it a go.

I knew it would be a challenge even though I've been hitting the trails more and more.  It didn't help that my back has been acting up.  But oh, how I so longed to run along this trail. It's brilliant.  Lots of up, roots, rocks, trees, the sound of the river.  It's brilliant.  So I took a risk and went.

Things didn't quite go as I had hoped.  I knew I would be slow, but I wasn't prepared for the fact that my lungs didn't like all the up and stairs as much as I do.  Then there was the ice.  It had warmed up and been raining for the past day or so, but it didn't wash away the ice within the trees.  Within a few meters of the trailhead my feet went ahead of me, at the same time, and without my consent.

It was quite an interesting fall - I could feel both feet, and of course my legs, start to slide forward. I don't think my feet actually left the ground.   Of course gravity was pulling everything down so the next thing to move towards the earth was my arse.  For some reason I put my hands down.  I am so very thankful I've been strengthening my wrists in yoga!  I managed for them to hit first, then my arse hit.  It was sort of a slow motion start then a quick thud finish.  Aiyaaa.

My first thought was my back.  It didn't seem to be in worse shape than it had been when I started. Phew.  Needless to say I was more watchful of the ice!  There were a lot of spots we had to walk, which was a relief because it allowed my lungs to have a break.  This whole breathing and need for oxygen thing can be rather frustrating at times!

When almost at the top I sent my friends on and bid them adieu.  There was less ice and I knew I was holding them up so it was time to part ways.  I headed back over the suspension bridge and started my run home.  It was about then that I could feel my back start to seize up.  Then I got a stitch in my front side.  This was getting ridiculous.

As I hobble ran I started to think about the whole trail running thing.  I love it.  It is my happy place.  Even though I didn't have the run I had hoped for, and I was a bit of a hurting unit from the fall, and I am sure I had mud on my face after wiping the dirt off my butt, then wiping something off my face....I was still happy to be out there.

I thought to myself, every run is an adventure.  Then I started to think about what each letter could spell out.  This kept me distracted from my slowly stiffening back for the last part of the run...

A = Arse, it's a wonderful cushion.
D = Doggies!! they love being on the trails and I love stopping and giving them a wee scritch.
V = Victorious, no matter how you get through the run, you will always be victorious.
E = Euphoria, the feeling you get from being in nature.
N = Nickers, no need to get your nickers in a knot if you stumble, walk, or have a snot rocket go wild!
T = Trees! Trees! and More Trees!
U = Ultimate, fun, excitement, rush, thrill, challenge, adventure.
R = Roots, rocks, and so many other fun things to hop and run over.
E = Excitement, especially after running a challenging part, and getting up all the stairs without stopping.

So I didn't have the run I had hoped for.  It's all good.  I now have a new goal - to get back to the state where I was before my surgery that allowed me to run this route!  Oh, and to run up ALL the stairs!! Woot!

Peace out my lovelies...

What A Girl Wants...

"I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness.  That is clear.  Whether one believes in religion or not, whether one believes in this religion, or that religion, we all are  seeking something better in life.  So, I think, the very motion of our life is towards happiness..." ~ H.H. Dalai Lama

I've been on a quest for some time now.  The quest for inner peace.  That quest has taken me on some very interesting journey's.  Although I have obtained a certain amount of inner peace, and I have learned many things about myself, the quest continues.  Not that that should be a shock.  Of course the quest continues - there is so much to learn!

Lately, I have come to the realization that I have no idea how to relax.  Wait.  That's a lie.  I have known for sometime that I don't know how to relax, but I THOUGHT I had figured it all out.  Definitely, when I had a daily meditation practice, I was much calmer.  A new job with a long commute seemed to put an end to that practice and since then I have kept saying I need to get it back.

A recent surgery and recovery period brought to light, once again, that I still haven't mastered the art of 'just being'.  The lack of a daily meditation practice certainly contributed to the realization.  Still, it was a hard pill to swallow.  These things tend to come to light when you spend three weeks mostly horizontal. As my body had nothing to do but heal, my mind took over in the 'keep busy' department.

Since this re-discovery, as shall we call it, I have tripped along trying to find ways to be more calm.  To reach that place of peace that I felt I once had.  Perhaps if I can obtain that place once again, I may actually be able to sleep.  See, for me, one of the downsides of not relaxing, or having inner peace, is that I don't get a good nights sleep.  Sure, I may appear to be sleeping, but really I am in that upper layer of sleep where even a bugs sneeze can awaken me.  I dream a lot too, which leads to waking up exhausted because I have been so busy in my sleep.

Part of the problem is I am a planner.  This can be a good quality and it can be a bad quality.  An example if you will - I am about to merge homes with my partner, M.  This will entail a move of my belongings from my current rental to a new rental a couple of blocks away, and his move from a city four hours away.  Phew.  Can you imagine how my mind is working like a gerbil on a wheel??  Sleep?Ha, not until the move I am sure!  (At which point my mind will find something else to glom onto.)

So the good quality of being a planner in a situation like this is I have formulated move times, gathered gracious friends to help, called the utilities, organized moving van, taken measurements of the new place, secured storage for extra items that won't fit and have, and, in my mind, determined where all of our merged items will go in the new place.

The bad quality of being a planner, all of the above has been done in advance of required and has reduced my sleep ability to almost non existent.   A lot of this planning, aside from calling around, has been done in my head as I sleep, or eat, or sit, etc.

To those who know me this whole planning thing will be of no surprise.  What may surprise them is I wish I didn't do this!  Okay, I do like having a plan.  But I really don't want to be thinking like this ALL THE TIME.  I want quiet in my head.  I want to sleep like a kitten in your lap.  I want to stop the monkey brain! You'd think it would be easy just to shut it off!

And of course what has helped, in the past, with this quieting of the monkeys?  Sitting meditation.  So why am I not doing it?  I don't know.

Perhaps it's because I am spending my time trying to find relaxing things to do.  As I write that I am giggling to myself. I am sure there is an oxymoron in there.  I have come to the realization that I want too many things.  I want it all.  I want to be fit and healthy so I used to run and participate in triathlon.  Then when I moved here I hit the trails hiking and running.  All until an unexpected trip to the emergency room, (aren't they all unexpected??) turned my life around.  I spent four months pretty much doing nothing except being frustrated at not being able to do anything physical.

Now that i can do something physical, I have decided to take up yoga again.  I figure this would be one way that I could tap into the meditation I love so much, but also to get my body started back on the path to total wellness.  In addition to this, I have started hiking again.  I am waffling on getting back into running, but seeing as I would like to start barefoot running, I have decided this is as good a time as any. Mainly because I will have to go back to square one of running.

In addition to this, I am learning more about food and it's relationship to health and the environment.  Which means reading a vast array of books on veganism and raw foods.  I've also signed up for a raw food chef class.  Again this is part of the total wellness quest.

Then there are all the other things I love to do:  being with M, kayaking, swimming, riding my Harley, visiting with friends, seeing family, volunteering, exploring, reading, writing, knitting, sitting....

Are you starting to see a pattern here?

I want to do everything and yet I want to relax.  How to fit it all in, without the aid of winning the lottery so I don't have to work full time ergo I would have more spare time??

That I will have to discover I guess...  Today I made an honest effort to relax.  I drank tea in bed and read.  At least till 8 am.   I read in my livingroom after that.  I did make some buckwheat crispies in the dehydrator and started the tomato wraps going, but that was pretty relaxing.  The dehydrator does all the work.  And I sat and read in between that.  Oh, and I attempted a nap!  I managed to stay horizontal for 30 minutes...too bad I didn't fall asleep.  My mind was busy with the thought of whether or not I should put together the new IKEA dresser I got.  I looked at the box.  I put the box flat on the floor.  Then I said to myself, 'Susi, just walk away.  Leave it be....'  Likely a good thing as M said he wanted to do it.  He is a blessing to me!!

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a total relaxation day, but it was a start.  Every new day is a start come to think of it.

As I write this I see my meditation cushion and it's calling to me.  Perhaps I will go have a good sit.  That sounds pretty relaxing....

Peace out my lovelies...

What A Long, Strange Trip...

"Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been." ~ Grateful Dead 

Well now that was an intersting little journey.  The past eight weeks that is.  The journey will continue, of course, but hopefully with less drama.  And pain.

I had certain expectations of my time off after surgery.  I was going to knit, catch up on reading (technical reading even), and learn the German language.  What I spent most of the time doing was hanging on for dear life the positive attitude that I thought would get me through anything and everything.  I did learn a lot from this experience - the biggest lessons being that I don't know how to relax and that a positive attitude can be harder to hang on to than one thinks...

The beginning of all this started with the emergency hopsital visit and the subsequent surgery.  Things looked bright just before I went under the knife.  My surgeon, bless him over and over again, was going to proceed with the surgery in a way that was going to be difficult for him, because of the size of the fibroid and utereus, but in the long run would be good for me and my active lifestyle.  I will forever be grateful for him putting his patients needs first!

As I am still breathing, it is obvious the surgery went well; however as they were wheeling me out of the surgery room, or somewhere, the first challenge hit - a severe asthma attack.  I was just coming out of my drug induced fog so I have no idea how I got into the seated position, but I do know that I couldn't take a breath without some rattling happening in my lungs, non stop coughing, and severe pain in my abdomen where I had just had my girly bits removed.  Coughing was really something I didn't want to do for a long time, and this type was especially painful.  I think they put oxygen on me or something, but finally it the attack was calmed.  I rememeber my doctor looking at me with very wide eyes.  I must say, this was not comforting. 

It turns out my exercise induced asthma can also be triggered by stress and, as I was told after, I will have to be careful about this from now on because of the severity of this attack.  Ugh.

The week in the hospital was the worst part of this whole journey.  First the attack, then air bubbles in my I.V. tube and a nurse who said 'Oh don't worry it won't hurt you!'  It took me having a complete 'insane patient' crying, yelling, and if I could have moved I would have been jumping up and down meltdown to get her to take the IV out of me.  I'm sure any medical people reading this may say, 'Ah, it was nothing to worry about really.'  However, I was terrified like I had never been in my life and when the I.V. machine kept alarming even with her telling me not to worry - it was time to have the meltdown.  I'm sure it didn't help that I was coming off my morphine induced coma.

Speaking of the morphine, it turns out I get one of the side effects - itchiness.  Seriously, having itching on your legs when you can't move because your abdomen is all stiched up and you have inflatable compression thingys on them making you sweat is like slow torture. 

I must say one thing about morphine though.  Apparantly even though I felt completely out of it, to the point that it seemed like my eyes would roll backwards into my head everytime I tried to open them, I was told I appeared coherent.  I recall my parents being in the room, and Julie calling on my Dad's mobile and me talking to her; however, I do not recall helping my parents plan their move and explaining what should be done, nor do I remember my conversation with Julie, which she had to remind me of.  Very interesting....  The parental unit told me later that I appeared to know what I was talking about...hmmm....I actually still have no idea what I said to them!  Giggle. At least it seems everything I suggested worked out!

I did manage to have some fun while in the hospital.  Part of the recovery was to try and walk.  Oh how easy that sounds.  Afterall, I had been walking for at least 40 years now!  Alas, there was the pain factor.  I must say, all that Ironman training came in handy when dealing with the pain factor.  I was now off the morphine so really had to rely on just breathing.  Deeply.  I tried to walk around the ward, but part way through I would want to keel over.  My Mom or Dad would be walking with me and being my support and could tell when I would start to restrict the blood flow in their arm that I was done walking.  

Oh, right, the fun part.  Well that was in the form of a little ol' dear that I would see walking past my hopsital room.  She had a pretty good pace and I was determined to match it!  I started with a mere shuffling of my froggy slippers.  I kept scheming as to how I could get faster and beat her.  In fact, my sole purpose was to leave her in my dust.  None of my plans panned out however, and she left me in her dust.  And she lapped me.  Oh the humiliation....  I still have thoughts of going back there, dressing up in hospital clothes and beating her!  Assuming she is still there of course, which really, I hope she isn't. 

After the stay at the hospital it was all about recovery at home.  Home being wherever I was with my parents or Marco looking after me.  The first few weeks I was with my folks while Marco finished his work up North.  I want it written for the record that I really do have the best parents in the world.  Now I know you may think you do, but I'm sorry, you don't.  My folks win hands down because when the doctor and nurse told them I had to be treated like a Princess while I recovered, they did.   Well, at least until I felt well enough to be cheeky and say 'The Princess would like a cup of tea please...'  That's when Mom gave me the finger and dad just laughed at me.  Priceless!

After the stay with the parental unit, Marco took over 'Princess Duty' and did a wonderful job!  He was my rock through this - as cheesy as that may sound!  As you read on, you will understand that his job was not as easy as it may sound...

I will spare every little detail of the last eight weeks.  Suffice it to say that my emotions would get the better of me most times, and I never know how much I treasured the ability to walk, heck just move on my own, so much!  I hurt.  A lot.  I thought I could deal with the pain.  Some days I could.  I would be positive about it all and tell myself that this is all just short term stuff.  Then I would set about whatever task it was I was trying to do, get out of bed, use the washroom, shower, and I would just take it one breath at a time.  These tasks took double the usual amount of time, but I dealt with it. 

Some days though, the pain got to me, the inability to walk got to me, the stress and guilt of having people look after me, Miss Independent, got to me, and that's when I would cry and have a wee pity party for myself.  Mom, Dad and Marco were the witnesses to all of this.  Of course, I would get even more ticked when I would cry or feel negative.  I saw some of the people in the hospital.  I was lucky!  This WAS a short period in my life and I would heal from it.  Others aren't so lucky.  The mind is a strange and powerful thing though and when I would get upset...I would get upset!  Even though I knew I should stay positive about all the little accomplishments and all the good things that were happening.

I seemed to somehow place myself on some sort of healing schedule.  I figured because I was young, relatively speaking, in good health and quite fit, that I should be running up and down stairs in no time.  So when I still couldn't walk for more than a little while after 5 weeks, and it was only supposed to take 6 weeks healing, the frustration bubbled up.  I was to see my doctor for my scheduled check up and as soon as I saw him he said those words that men should never say to a woman on the edge....'How are you doing?' 

That's when I burst into tears.  I mumbled incoherently about not being able to walk, the pain, not having paid sick time from work, cancelling vacation, blah blah blah.   Again I will point out how wonderful my doctor is.  First off he explained the pain - it turns out that my ovary was adhered to my abdominal wall. So in addition to having my internal girly bits removed the doctor also had to try and detach this. It couldn't be totally detached, so they did what they could. This was causing me all the pain and why it felt like something it was tearing and burning on my right side when I would try and walk!

Next he said I needed to relax.  Really relax.  I made it my goal to do so for the next two weeks I was off on leave.  I am happy to report, I think I have a better hang of relaxing then I did before.  Granted, I still keep thinking, I need to knit! I need to study German! I need to read up on failure analysis techniques! I need to organize things!  But I catch myself thinking that and say, I need to sit and have a cup of tea. 

I am a firm believer that if you are open to it, you can learn lessons with every challenge or obstacle you are given.  I learned a lot these last eight weeks.  I hope I keep remembering them, but I know if I don't, the Universe will remind me some way.  The biggest thing I hope to do is stay more positive in times of trouble.  I really thought I would through all this, but it was harder than I expected!  I have a new appreciation for, and truly admire, people who face unending illness or other challenges and who maintain a positive outlook.

Thankfully, I have the most amazing support from my family and friends!!!  They helped me discover that laughter truly is the best medicine, and that it's okay to lean on others.  Every day I give thanks for all of you and mentally shower you with peace, love and hugs!!!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

Now it's on to baby steps in getting back to my 'normal' life.  Tomorrow is my first day back at work.  I will also attempt to get back into the gym.  I promise, I will go SLOW.  Oh, and there is swimming... And of course making sure I continue to RELAX!  Granted, that wasn't part of my 'normal' life before, but will be from now on.  I can see now how much I need it. 

Peace out my lovely friends and may you continue to be blessed with good health!




 

The Best Laid Plans...

"The best laid schemes of mice and men, oft go awry." ~ Robert Burns

Well after the last post you may, or may not, be wondering how training is going.  Well as the saying above indicates, things didn't quite go as planned.

To be honest, I wondered if I would blog about this, because it's quite personal.  But hey, I've blogged about getting a colonoscopy and a colposcopy, so why not what's going on now?!  Besides, I'm hoping this may help someone out there.

I had planned to train for the race.  In fact, I was getting pretty excited about my training program.  Then I was struck with some migraines.  So I followed the advice of my acupuncturist and put my training off for a week or so.  The race was far enough away that I wasn't worried.  

It was Friday, a couple of weeks ago and I was driving out to the parental units home.  Training was to start next Monday, but before that I wanted to help them prepare for the big house move.  I felt totally normal that day, but for some reason when I was about 20 minutes from their place I started to feel some pain low down in my abdomen.  It felt like menstrual cramps, but I wasn't expecting anything for a week and a bit.  So then I thought, huh, maybe my seatbelt is bugging me?  As the pain increased I thought maybe I have to use the loo??

I called my Mom and asked if her and Dad wanted to meet me outside their place and I'd drive them to dinner.  By now I thought maybe I was just hungry for dinner.  Really hungry.  The pains were intensifying.  We got to the restaurant, a sushi place of course, but it was really busy so I suggested we do take away.  By now I wasn't sure if I would be able to stand for a while.  The wait was going to be about 20 minutes so we left Dad there and we walked over to the grocery store to pick up dessert.

In the store I started to feel nauseous.  And clammy. And dizzy.  Then the pain went up a notch.  I said to Mom that something wasn't right and I was going to sit back in the car till Dad got the food.  We finally got our dinner and I drove the folks back home, by now having my breathe sucked in now and then because of these shots of pain going through my abdomen.  Thankfully it was a really short drive to the house.  When we walked in I folded over and headed to the couch.  Mom said I should maybe lay down upstairs so I crawled up there.

I was starting to get scared.  I have a really high tolerance for pain.  Mom knows this.  So when she came to check on me a few minutes after I went upstairs and found my crying and curled in the fetal position, her worry level went up a few notches.  She called one of her friends, who is a retired nurse, that lives down the street.  She knew the I was in good health and told my Mom to get me in the car and to swing by and pick her up...we were off to the hospital.

I sat in the waiting room for about 4 hours - not bad considering.  I was folded in half in the chair most of that time.  The only thing that stifled my crying was hearing a very high pitched, hysterical male voice say 'I need help NOW! I just had surgery yesterday and I have blown a stitch, my testicle is bleeding!! I am bleeding like a stuck pig!  You need to get me a doctor NOW!!!'

Sorry boys, but I couldn't help but laugh.  It was the level of hysterics in his voice that got me.  I looked up at my mom, I was still folded in half at this point, and said, 'I bet he is in and out of here within the hour.  Heaven forbid we ignore a bleeding testicle...'.   She and her friend were also giggling at this point.  Let's face it, all the women were.   Heck, I had stabbing pains that sucked my breath in and had me in tears, but I still managed to keep my voice low as I gave my information.   For the record, he was in and out of there within an hour.   He, and his girlfriend that had accompanied him and who was also yelling, were in a much calmer state.  Although his track pants had a much larger 'package' in the front.  Ice pack??

But back to the story at hand.  I was admitted into the emergency room about midnight.  The doctor said he suspected appendicitis and told my Mom that I would be there all night.  I sent her and her friend home.  No need for them not to get some sleep.

I somehow lucked out and had my own room in the emergency.  I'm sure I wasn't being whiny, but for some reason I got the 'baby room'.  Hmmm, did this mean I was a big baby, or is that just the room?? It's a small hospital so they didn't have a lot of beds in emergency, so I'll go with the fact that I just lucked out and got that room because they had no other areas for me.  My room had some very funky paintings on the wall....a googly eyed giraffe that stared down at me all night.  And a bright purple hippopotamus that I loved.

 This little guy watched over me during the night.  

My purple hippopotamus, and lovely IV bag. 

I was given a hospital gown that, of course, did not cover the back end, some fanatastically heated flannel blankets, an IV and a shot of morphine, then pretty much left alone after the Doc made his initial diagnosis.  The morphine didn't help, but being able to lie down as heavenly.

At about 2:30 am I was wheeled down the hall to get a CT scan. Okay, here we go.  Maybe my appendix is ready to go?  Still, the pain seemed lower down then that.  My suspicions were confirmed at about 3:30 am.  It's a good thing I wasn't able to sleep that night cause I'd be ticked being woken up so often!

The doctor came in looking quite serious.  He said to me, 'The good news is your appendix is fine.'  Uhm, ok, then what the heck is going on??  Then he said, 'You have a fibroid in your uterus, and it's the size of a grapefruit.'

My mind started to work.  I said 'Well, I was told about 14 years ago that I had a fibroid, but they told me it was something I didn't have to worry about....  Why is it so big?  Why did it start to hurt so intensely out of the blue??'   He explained that the fibroid had grown so big it was unable to get blood so it was bleeding into itself and that was what caused the pain.  My first thought at this point was of the film 'Alien' and how that guy ended up having the spidery thing come out of him.  Ugh.  I focused on Mr. Giraffe at this point.

The doctor then asked me if I planned on having kids.  I knew at this point that things were pretty serious and that this wasn't going to just go away.  I explained that I wasn't planning on kids, that I loved my role as 'Favourite Auntie' to some of my friends kids.  He said that I would be there till the morning and then the Ob/Gyn doctor would come in and talk to me.  They weren't going to give me any food in case I got rushed into surgery.  I hadn't eaten since 2:00 pm the day before so was really craving the sushi we got for take away.

The morning came and with it my Mom returned.  My Dad was with my cousins helping clear some of the things out of the house.  This is what I was supposed to be helping with and I felt guilty I wasn't there.  About noon the Ob/Gyn came in.  He said that I must have been important because they don't always do CT scans in the middle of the night.  He'd reviewed my file and confirmed what the emergency room doctor said.  Then he asked me about the kid thing.  A few times.

He said although the fibroid had been there for some time, we didn't know when it chose to grow.  And if had grown rapidly in the last while, that would be a bad sign.  Another bad sign was that it was bleeding into itself and it needed to be removed.  He said there were three options....the first two I through out immediately because a) the complications that could happen, b) the pain that would be incurred, and c) one didn't remove the fibroid but tried to shrink it.

That left the last option, a total hysterectomy.  This would involve removing my uterus, cervix, and fallopian tubes.  My ovaries would be left so I wouldn't be tossed into full blown menopause, which would have it's own complications.  Because my uterus was the size of a woman's 4.5 months pregnant, they would have to go in through my abdomen.  This is where I started to get scared.

How long would I need for recovery?  Could I work out?  I have a race?  What about my job?  He explained that I would need six weeks recovery, that I couldn't work out, and my race was not an option.  My job he said, I would have to explain to my boss and he would provide a letter explaining things.

I was to see him the following week with my decision.  Not that there was much to decide.  I mean I friggin hurt - I had to do something.  Not having kids wasn't a huge problem, but I did let it sink in that if for some strange reason I changed my mind, there would be no possibility.  I was okay with that.  The recovery period and my future ability to exercise was what scared me the most.  For a period longer than six weeks I would have to be concerned about an incisional hernia, not to mention I may never be able to regain the core strength that I had worked so hard for.  When would I be able to run again??  What about hiking? Snowshoeing?  Ugh.

I went to visit the doctor the following week and discussed the surgery.  I was booked into the hospital for surgery the following week.  In between that time I started to make arrangements. I cancelled my race.  I told my work. I made sure my diet was super clean so I could prepare my body for the trauma and healing that was to follow,  I cried and was scared.  The funny thing is I really couldn't pinpoint why I was so scared.  Was it being 'put to sleep'?  Having someone slice into me and removing bits and pieces of my body??

Last week I had the surgery, it was successful and I'm now in recovery mode.  It's been a rough adjustment, but that's a story for another day.

Why I wanted to write about this is because I'm a healthy person, I'm a veggie girl who eats whole foods.  I work out.  I look after myself.  I was told that I had a uterine fibroid and that it was nothing to worry about.  That it may cause problems if I wanted to conceive, but that's all.  I wasn't told to monitor it.  I have had a few doctors over the years and I always went in for my annual physicals.  No one said anything about it.

Within an hour I went from feeling peachy keen to being folded over, crying and dealing with severe pain.  Within a day I would learn I had to have surgery to remove this thing and because it was so large, they would have to go through my abdomen.  I would then have to do nothing for six weeks.  

I wanted other women to know that they should follow up if they find out they have a fibroid, don't just ignore it.  Ask the doctor how often you should follow up with it.  They can do ultrasound to monitor it. They don't always grow, and they don't always need to be removed, so you don't have to panic, but you don't want to get caught like I was.  I am thankful I didn't have dreams of becoming a Mom, because then hearing I couldn't because of this would have been one tough blow.

Be proactive. Ask questions.

Peace out my wonderful friends...be healthy.

Oops, I Did It Again...Or Did I???

Knowledge of what is possible is the beginning of happiness. ~ George Santanyana

I thought I had bid racing adieu in 2009...but I guess I may just have one last race left in me.  Well, let's put it this way, I've committed to it so I'm going to do my best to fulfill that commitment.

2009 was not a great year.  Or was it?  On one hand it was not a great year for participating in triathlons.  I signed up for one half Ironman and two Ironman races.  Part way through I realized that mentally, emotionally and physically I was done - for many reasons that I will not dwell on because they are in the past.  But because I'm a stubborn girl, I continued on and finished the races.  Or did they finish me??  I don't think I realized the toll they took on me until I stopped doing them.  Boy, had they ever taken their toll.

And that brings us to the thought that maybe 2009 was a great year.  I learned a lot about myself.  One thing I realized was that I no longer wanted to be a slave to the grind of training.  Afterall, it's not like I was some uber athlete.  Nope, I'm just your average Jill out there doing something for fun.  So when it stopped being fun, it was time to reflect and learn, which is what I spent most of 2010 doing.

Instead of spending all my time training, I spent it moving back to my hometown where my family was, figuring out how to simplify my life, and getting back into nature doing the things I love to do.  The result of that was finding inner peace.  I guess it was always there.  It was just a matter of quieting my life so I could tap into it.

Somewhere along the line in 2010 some friends and I talked about Sinister 7.  It's a trail race in Crownest Pass, AB.  At that point I was still in my race haze I think because I agreed to be a part of a relay team.  I hadn't given it much thought after that, but in December I was asked to contribute to the race fee.  Now at this point racing was FAR from my mind.  But I had committed to it...and it would give me a chance to see my friends from my old town...not to mention I could hang with my buddy Julie who lives there.  I decided I was still in and sent my fee.  Then I forgot about it.

Sometime in late January or early February I remembered I signed up for this race.  Granted it's not until July, but I decided I better start looking into getting a coach.  True, I do run through the forest all the time - it is one of my ultimate happy places.  Also true, I run up hills and stairs in my forest run.  But I only run for about an hour, and part of that hour is running back down hill.  So I wasn't quite sure how I should go about training for my 16 km portion of a 148 km trail run.  It didn't help that adjectives of the climb used in the description of my relay portion were 'gruelling' and 'punishing'.  Yikes.

Enter Jen Segger from Challenge by Choice.  I had found her on the MOMAR site and liked what I read about her.  One thing I didn't count on was the anxiety I felt after contacting her!  I realized I had some residual mental and emotional attachment to training and racing.  I didn't' want to go back to that dark place of training.  I love trail running and just want to do it because I love it, even if I did have a race to prepare for.   I talked to Jen about that during our initial meet and greet and I really appreciated that she understood where I was coming from.  I've also spent some time thinking about what training was going to look like for me this time around.

Some things I was sure of, I would like to do this race because it will be a challenge, I want to be on a team with my friends, this will be the last race I do for a long while, I want to complete my leg of the run and not spend the next few days in pain, I want to be prepared for what it has to offer.  I also know that I will not be devoting my entire life to training for this race, as was the way of the past.

I will officially start training in March and I'm looking forward to the adventure that it will be.  At least with this type of training I can continue to spend time being the long haired leaping gnome who frolics on the trails through the trees of the North Shore.  Oh and training or no, while out on the trails I will still continue my habit of stopping to pet dogs and to hug trees, because really, if you can't make time to give a little love, then what's the point of being out there?

Peace out all you beautiful people!

Sounds of Running...

He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery. ~ Harold Wilson

We had our first snowfall of the season today. Compared to what I'm used to, this would be what I call a light dusting. But this is Wet Coast so even the mere hint of snow can mean total catastrophe on the roads. Thankfully that wasn't the case today.

I love it when an event, like snow, signals the change of the seasons. Some have troubles with change. For them, it's uncomfortable and scary. I think I thrive off of change, which is probably why I love the changing seasons. It's almost like Mother Nature's way of helping those who like things to stay the same. She ever so gently invites you to embrace change with little things like the first green bud on a tree, the first scorching day, the first leaf hitting the ground, or the first snowfall.

This morning I woke up way to early for a Saturday. After lounging around for a while I decided it was time to get up and celebrate this crisp glorious first snowfall by going for a run. For the first time in a long while I bundled up for my run. Not that it's cold compared to some provinces right now, but the thicker leggings and a toque were a must.

The plan was to run from home, cross over the river and then run uphill to the suspension bridge, and back home again. The last few runs I've gone the opposite way, but this morning called for a challenge - to go UP!

The atmosphere outside was peaceful right from the start. As I got into the first section of trail I tuned my ears to the glorious sounds that surrounded me and went into my happy place....

• "Good girl, pat, pat"...said the man to his dog who sat patiently as I ran by, all the while looking at me with a glint in her eye.
• Giggle, laugh, giggle...the children who got to play in the little whisp of snow we had.
• Crunch, crunch, crunch...my shoes on the gravel and dirt.
• Gurgle, burgle, gurgle....the water from the creeks washing over the smooth rocks and making it's way to the ocean.
• Clomp, clomp, clomp...my feet hitting the wooden boardwalk in the trail.
• Jingle, jingle, jingle...my keys jumping up and down in my pocket.
• Twitter, tweet, twitter...the birdies greeting me in the woods.
• ROOOOAAARRR!!! the water falling down the waterfall and crash landing on the rocks below.
• Mmphht, mmphtt!...snot rockets.
• Splash, gloosh, sploosh...my shoes slopping through the mud.
• Wheeze, gasp, wheeeeeeze...my breathing as I run up the stairs and then more stairs.
• Jingle, jangle, jingle....the tags on the dogs who want to run with me up the stairs.
• Thump, thump, thump...my heart beating a quick staccato.
• Squeak, creak, groan...the music of the suspension bridge.

So many sounds and yet so peaceful. It was one of those runs that make you thankful for the beauty that surrounds us...and thankful I am!

Peace out my glorious friends!

Imagine...

Glance at the sun,
See the moon and the stars.
Gaze at the beauty of earth's greenings.
Now, think."
~ Hildegard von Bingen


I have been reading the book Cradle to Cradle by William McDonough & Michael Braungart. (I highly recommend it - please get it from your local library.) Its about remaking the way we make things. In other words, or traditional thoughts of recycling are not enough in the big scheme of things. The planet is overwhelmed, and change needs to happen.

In addtion to reading the book, I'm taking a course on renewable energy. All of this has me thinking a lot lately about what we are doing to our beloved Mother Earth. I wonder why is it that there are so many people afraid of change to the point that they don't want to REALLY see what's going on?

Then I think, what can I do? Will all the little changes I've made in my life really add up to anything? Am I doing enough? What is enough? How can one make change when so many others have dug their heels into the ground and refuse to budge? And are there any other people out there that feel like I do???

These were the thoughts that went through my mind this morning. So I sat in meditation and felt the peace of just being. Then I wrote a long letter to a friend and shared some joys that I had felt recently.

The peace and joy I felt seemed to open up a little part of me, because just after I laid the letter by the door, ready for the post, a song came into my head. For me, it wasn't just the song that was so powerful, but the exact verse at which it entered my mind...

"You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one,
I'll hope someday you'll join us,
And the world will live as one."
~ John Lennon, Imagine.

I felt much better after. Nuff said.

Peace out beautiful people.

Lean, Mean, Peace Machine...

"The mind is everything. What you think, you become." ~ Buddha


If there is one thing that I have always loved to do, it's go to the gym. I've been going to the gym, off and on, since I was sweet sixteen and working at Gold's Gym in North Vancouver in trade for a membership. I love the peace and quiet I can feel there, even with the Ahnold wanna be in the corner grunting like he's constipated.

In fact, the thing I really missed when I was triathlon training was going to the gym. I would be able to for a while, and then the swim, bike run hours would increase to the point I couldn't fit it in. Now though, the gym is my main thing, and the rest of the stuff I do is gravy!

When I started at my local gym (aka rec centre) I tried going several different times of the day to figure out what worked. Turns out first thing bright and early works best. Less people and less youngin's trying to earn their first hernia while impressing their friends.

As I spend a fair amount of time at the gym, there are some things that I have observed. Some things are new to this gym, and some things never change no matter what gym I'm at!

1. I don't understand grunting or growling or yelling. Surely this takes more of your energy that you could be using to lift all that weight. In all honesty, it sounds like you are about to poop your pants. Seriously. Rather than grunting, groaning and yelling, why not take off a plate or two and see what happens. You might actually be able to do one set with perfect form! Focus on your breath my friend!
2. If you have to wriggle and worm about as you do bicep curls with the cable...then the weight is just too heavy for you. If you add the groaning as above...well you just plain need help. You look silly and you are going to hurt yourself. I know, you are just a teenager, but someone really should point this out. Notice how your friend is doing it? See how he doesn't wiggle and worm around whilst doing cable bicep curls? That's the RIGHT way. Stop trying to lift the same weight as him - you can't. One day maybe, but you are going to have to work at it and wait for those hormones to kick in.
3. It never ceases to amaze me how HEAVY the tiniest people can sound on the treadmill. The one morning I heard this THUD, THUD, THUD, on the treadmill. It was so loud I could barely hear my thoughts. So I look over and there are two big guys and one very slim, petit woman using the treadmills. I watched their foot falls to figure out who was making all the racket. Sure enough it was the tiny woman. Perhaps she should consider doing less of a flat footed approach? My body was cringing at the thought of the impact her body was suffering!
4. Why is it whenever I have to work on my pull ups - in other words I hop up to the bar so my chin is level, then slooooowly lower myself down in an attempt to train my body to do pullups - that there is always a guy who is doing a million pullups beside me? The one day there was a guy, I swear he must have been a gymnast, who would do a pullup, then push himself up over the bar till he was above the bar with straight arms! He did this several times...I quietly slunked away after my few reps.
5. I will admit it, I was impressed by the guy who was doing deadlifts with 6 - 45 lb plates on either side of the bar. It was hard not to stare cause it was just so darn amazing. Needless to say I moved to another part of the gym with my wee 15 lb weights...
6. We have our very own Clark Kent at our gym. I'm not kidding. I was warming up on the rowing machine when this guy sits on the rowing machine beside me. I see in the reflection of the window that he has Clark Kent glasses and hair. He's wearing baggy sweatpants that are floods, and a baggy sweatshirt. Next thing I know he's done his warm up and heads to the weights. He takes his hoodie and sweat pants off to reveal the body of a 6' tall gymnast in a tank top in shorts! From Clark Kent to Superman!
7. There is always someone who is "ripe". I mean RIPE. As in needs some deordant badly. Where are the AXE spray gals when you need them?? I know it's first thing in the morning, but still. It's so bad that I involuntarily gag when I go by him, which is why now when I have to walk by, I make sure I take a deep breath, inconsipicuously, and let it out really slowly as I go past. The bad thing is he's a really nice fellow. Always smiling and kind. But WOW - the smell is insane.
8. I'll never understand folks who have no concept of what's going on around them. Hi there! Yes, that's me right there beside you with my body like a crab hovering off the ground and my head resting on a fit ball trying to do one arm barbell chest presses. You may not have noticed me as you were too busy talking to your friends when you squeezed into my personal space. Please feel free to stand super close to me, but be aware that I might just drop this weight on your foot if you get too close. Heh.
9. So I'm talking to the manager of gym and he asks me what my background is with training and whatnot. I explain that I've been in and out of the gym for the last mumbly mumbly years, but the last four years was spent doing triathlon. He says, "We were wondering if you were one of those fitness competitors, cause you look like one who is in between contests." Well, my ego blew up like a balloon hearing this, but of course I modestly replied, "Thank you! Actually I've got some chunk on me that I am trying to lose so I'm can get more defined." He says, "Ya, thats why we figured you were in between competitions." Ah yes. You did say that didn't you... Here that? Ffffffffpppptttt...that's the sound of my ego being deflated a mere 30 seconds after it inflated. I love when stuff like this happens in life because it's a good reminder. Not to mention it makes me laugh whenever I think about it.

I recently recieved an update to my training program. Jen is my trainer through the rec center. I noticed another gal, Shelley, doing some really great stuff with free weights and bosu balls etc so I asked her who put together her program. She pointed me to Jen. The first thing we worked on was my core in an attempt to help my lower back and glute/hip thingy that continues to haunt me.

Last Monday she updated my program and I love it. She has me doing walking lunges while holding a dumbell straight armed over my head. Then I get to do pushups with my feet resting on top of a fit ball. In between the pushups I roll the ball towards me by pulling my knees to my chest. There's a whole mess of activities like that. I went through the whole program today and by the end my body was like a faucet of sweet. It felt good. I'm on my way to becoming a lean, mean, peace machine!

Tomorrow I think I will take it easy and do some biking...my glutes and core are a wee bit grumpy from today because they aren't used to the new workout routine. In fact, I could use one of those donut thingys to sit on...or a really good cushion. Oh, it's a climbing night tomorrow too...it will be interesting to see how much stronger I am as I haven't been at the wall during the summer.

So many activities, so little time!

Peace out my happy sweaty gym rats!

Motorcyle Diaries...

"Like a true nature's child, we were born, born to be wild..." ~ Steppenwolf


I'll tell ya a little secret...I sometimes sing 'Born to be Wild' by Steppenwolf when I'm riding my motorbike Dorky, true, but oh does it put a smile on my face!

I'm not sure exactly when the love of motorcycles got into my bloodstream. It's possible it was when I was 2 years old. That was the first time I was ever on a bike - albeit it was a wee motorbike, likely a 250.

My folks and I lived in Japan for some of my younger years and that was our transportation. Both Mom and Dad had a bike, and there was a kid seat somehow attached to it for yours truly. As they didn't have motorcycle helmuts small enough in that day, I got to wear my cousin Brian's old hockey helmut. I believe there was a Canadian flag sticker on the front of the helmut too. I'm going to have to scrounge up the photos - I do remember I was always smiling.

Then when I was sixteen I had the joy of riding on the back of a classic Triumph bike. As another song says, "Oh, what a feeling, what a rush!". I think that's when being on a motorbike REALLY took hold of me. Since that time I'd finangled my way on to the backs of my friends bikes ranging from Ninja's to Harleys. My heart has always been with the Harley Davidson though.

Here's another little secret about me...well, not so secret to some...I LOVE classic cars and classic bikes. LOVE THEM. My dream cars are the 1964 Corvette (mine would be stock cherry red with white leather interior) and the 1955 Chevy Belair (mine would be metallic purple with purple dingle balls and a pair of white fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror).

But enough about cars, this piece is about bikes. A few years ago I looked into fulfilling a dream of mine - buying a Harley Davidson. A Sporster to be exact. Why the Sporster? Because for the most part the style of it hasn't changed since it was introduced in 1952 as the Model K Sport. She was a modern bike with classic styling, how could I not love it?! Anyways, I had been in the bike shop, talked about buying a Sporty and about taking lessons. Unfortunately, life went all pear shape in an unexpected way and buying a motorbike was out of the question. Life went on though and in quite a glorious way.

Flash forward six years later and I find myself moving back to my hometown and in the company of one of my dearest friends, Terresa, who's known me for 30 years. We had actually lost contact for almost 20 years when we finally found each other just before I moved back. Lucky for me she was as wonderful as she always was! She too shared the passion of the bike, but unlike me, she had acted on it.

So when I moved back she gave me a gental nudge and said, 'So, when are you going to get a bike?'. I had been busy drooling over photos of her Harley, a Dyna Lowrider. I mentioned that the first step would be lessons. Luckily for me she could refer me to the riding school she went to, Open Road Training. They were fantastic and in no time I was ready to take my drivers test.

First though, a bike. I wasn't in a rush to buy a bike per se, but knew that it would be better if I had one to ride and practice on. My dream was to get a Harley, but they were out of my price range. That was until Terresa, the miracle worker, mentioned a friend of hers was selling her Harley. And get this, it was a Sporster! Could this be true??? Could I possibly be an owner of a Harley Sporty??

Long story short, becasue there are other stories to tell, I did end up buying the bike. She is beautiful! She's a 1997 HD Sporster Hugger 883. Just right for a shorty like me.

Figure 1: My 1997 Harley Davidson Sporster Hugger 883

Next up after buying the bike, and before I went for my test, was several hours with my other friend, and Terresa's boyfriend, Reza. He and I rode to the PNE grounds parking lot where he put me through the gears of slow maneuvering on my bike. I'll admit it, I was a little overwhelmed by my bike at first. It was a Harley and it had a lot of power. But after hours of going around and around in small circles, doing figure eights, starting/stopping on a hill - with Reza standing in front of me so I HAD to stop, and learning to park on hills etc, I finally became one with my bike. Oh and lets not forget him making me get up to speed, slam the brakes on till the back end fishtailed, then start and turning. An excellent safety maneuver I should add! But scary when you are learning it!

All this practice was great because when it came time for me to do my drivers test, I aced it. I was comfortable and confident. But not too confident of course. I'm fully aware of the dangers of riding. After all, I was once employed as a vehicular accident reconstructionist! I know what can happen when bike meets (fill in the blank). Rule #1 of riding - NO ONE CAN SEE YOU! Which is the case most of the time so it's best to just assume it's like that 100% and hopefully you will avoid any 'incidents'.

It was because of that rule, and the fact that the parental unit weren't as excited as I was about my new toy that I decided to be smart...and respectful of their feelings. I got a bright orange vest. Sigh...

Figure 2: The vest - front side

Figure 3: The vest, back side.

At least the vest isn't TOO dorky. It does say Harley Davidson and it has kick ass reflective flames on the back side. True, I would love to ride the streets with a tank top on and sexy leather vest like my friends do, but the reality is I'm a safety girl. So I have my full face helmut, nice thick leather jacket with pads, and my vest. Oh, and I swear it gets brighter as it gets darker out. I stopped in at my friend Chris and Joanne's, long time owners and riders of sweet Harley's, one evening after riding. I think they were blinded by my vest. At least they didn't laugh at me??

Figure 4: Me, the vest, and my bike

I don't think the vest looks too horrible on. Actually, it's rather slimming. However, the other day I went riding with Terresa and Suzanne. We took the low road out to Horseshoe Bay, which is stunning! Once you get through West Van traffic, it's a curving windy road that follows the waterfront. Ahh, the smell of salt water while riding your bike is heavenly.

Here's the funny part... Terresa and Suzanne show up on their Harleys' wearing 'traditional' wear of jeans, tank tops and little leather vests. They look stunning to say the least, like something you'd see in a bike magazine. It was hot out, hence they opted not to wear their jackets. Me, I bundle up in my full face helmut, full leather jacket and, yup, the vest. I needed to get riding quick or I was going to fall over from the heat. The good thing was as soon as we started riding I was cool enough, except at the occassional long red light, which we kept getting.

As we rode the girls were in front of me. I kept noticing all the dudes in the cars and trucks around us checking them out. Funny, here I am wearing a bright orange vest but no one's looking at me! Before you think I'm being all 'poor whoas me', trust me, I'm not. I thought it was fantastic and had a good chuckle over it! Hey, I know underneath all these layers there is a Buddha Biker Babe, as my friend Ken so sweetly called me. I must say, I think that is one advantage of being a girl on a bike - you get noticed more, which is a good thing as hopefully that means the person won't cut into your lane. Heck even I get noticed when I'm on my own and they see the blond pigtail waving about outside my helmut! Or maybe it's the vest...

Figure 5: Buddha Biker Babe

Oh, I almost forgot! I named my bike 'Belle', after the Beauty and the Beast's character. Why? Because she's blue and Belle had a blue dress, plus Belle was spunky and sought out adventure. She wasn'ts afraid either.

I've been out on Belle a few times on my own and I love it! My heart rate goes up ever so slightly as I take her cover off (that my parents ever so kindly bought so she'd stay dry and clean) and start her up. She sounds ever so lovely...although the neighbors might think otherwise? Ah well. When they see the beaming smile I have while riding her, perhaps they'll forgive me for a slight noise disturbance now and then.

And maybe, just maybe, if you listen close as you pull up beside me, you might just hear the lyrics to a familiar song...like a true natures child, we were born, born to be wild....

Peace out my born to be wild friends!

Teddy Bear's Picnic...

Beneath the trees, where nobody sees,
They'll hide and seek as long as they please,
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic" ~ Jimmy Kennedy


My friend Matti introduced me to the song 'The Teddy Bear's Picnic" by John Walter Bratton many years ago. I instantly loved it. I loved it even more when I read a story about a mortician who was working on a fellow who had been killed by a bear. As he dealt with what was left of the poor dude, he had the song "The Teddy Bear's Picnic" playing. Personally, I love that sense of humour.

I recently moved back to my beloved British Columbia and decided to live in the part that is a rain forest. Wait, isn't most of it rain forest?? Hmmm....

But I digress. I love where I live because I'm within walking distance of a couple of trails. One trail will take me up into many various mountainous areas. The other trail, Hastings Creek Trail, is just around the corner from my street. Hastings Creek and the area actually stretches out a fair bit, but there is one portion where there is a trail.

I love this trail because I can run it as an out and back in about a half hours time, which is great for a short run. Because of how it's laid out with lots of roots, logs, branches, rocks, LOTS of stairs and an upward grade till the turnaround point, I can make the run as intense as I want. Also, I love to walk through here to get to the library, which I visit on a weekly basis. Did I mention it also leads me to two of my favourite places to obtain chai soy lattes??

Now you may be wondering what does the Teddy Bears Picnic and my trails have to do with one another. That's easy, we have bears. Two that I was told about when I moved in and most likely more I'm learning. Those two have apparantly adopted our neighborhood. With the exception of new people (yep, that'd be me), most know not to leave anything out that can be mistaken for food. We keep our garbage indoors (or we do as soon as we learn that bears can get into our sealed off backyard...yup, that was me again) and only put it out on garbage day JUST before the garabage man is to arrive.

I still haven't figured out how Mr. Bear got into the fenced backyard or how I didn't hear him knock over the garbage bin and start ripping apart the bag etc...but he visits here fairly frequently as the bear scat and witness reports tells us. Needless to say, when I'm out running the trails I do accept the fact that I may meet a bear. Or a coyote, as we have big ones here.

I don't really think about it too much, or I didn't until Jennifer, a personal trainer at the recreation centre I go to, mentioned they had just removed a 600 lb bear from the Hastings Creek area. This was after I was telling her I love to run through there. "Uh, sorry, did you say SIX HUNDRED POUNDS??"

Okay, certainly he couldn't have been hanging out in MY wee portion of Hastings Creek?? I mean, exactly how quiet is a 600 lb bear? It's not like he's going to sneak up behind me...right??? Right??!! Sigh. I think I'm going to have to review all the bear literature I have from when I lived and hiked in the Rockies. Perhaps they have a section on 'How sneaky bears are."

Needless to say I will continue to run and walk through that bit of the trail. I will just keep my ears for sounds of bears. If they make any. And perhaps I won't doddle as I sometimes do when I see a squirrel or a butterfly. I tend to stop on the trail and just watch whatever little forest creature is frolicking about. At least I do when I'm walking through.

Below are some photos of my beloved Hastings Trail. I took then when my friend Shelley and I walked through with Rex the dog. No bears that day.

Oh, and for the record, should I ever end this life at the paws of a bear...please make sure whoever is doing the autopsy is listening to "Teddy Bear's Picnic" as they piece back my remains. That way you can guarantee that wherever my spirit or energy is, I will be smiling and laughing.

Peace out my lovely teddy bear friends!

Taking One For The Team...

"Make your feet your friend." ~ J.M. Barrie


Normally on Wednesday nights I go to the indoor climbing wall with my friend Lisa. There we meet up with some of the climbing gals and literally hang out for an hour or so. It's great fun, but the last time we went it was hot outside, which mean really hot inside.

Of course you don't notice the heat too much till you are part way up the wall and you, or rather I, start to get even more sweaty than normal, which is saying a lot as I sweat like a waterfall. This means it's even more difficult than normal to keep your hands connected to the holds. Not to mention it's rather trying when you have sweat running down your face and dangling off your nose, which tickles, but you don't want to let go to wipe it off.

And did I mention how "hummy" it gets in there. PHEW! Sometimes it takes a moment to get used to the smell. And not gasp. Or gag.

Needless to say when Lisa asked if I wanted to go climbing, I suggested that since it was so nice outside perhaps we could go for a hike instead? I was so happy when she said yes! We share the feelings about the hot hummy climbing wall.

Better yet, we were going to hike the BCMC Grouse trail, which starts off at the same place as the very famous Grouse Grind, but is less travelled. Considering it's summer and the parking lot was full, full, full, I'm glad we chose this trail instead.

A little information about the trail: It is 3.3 km of sheer UP. There is an elevation gain of 853 m (~ 0.5 mi) and the average grade is 25.8%. The trail is quite narrow in spots and one must be mindful of their footing.

Just to add to tonights adventure, I decided to wear my Vibram Five Finger toe shoes, also known as barefoot shoes, or more accurately, minimalist shoes. My friend Tina introduced me to these shoes a few years ago, and although I don't wear them year round or all the time, when I do wear them I love them!

Here is a 'before' photo of my feet inside my glorious shoes.

Figure 1: Feet/Shoes pre-hike.

We hadn't been walking long when a fellow came up beside me and started to ask me about my shoes. Needless to say, this is a normal occurrance when people see your shoes and he was the first of several on the trail to ask me about them. Afterall, you have toes in your shoes! (Remind me one day to tell the story of how a little girl was afraid of my shoes...and toes.)

As I walked I went on to explain that they are minimalist shoes, the sole is about 3 mm thick, they are made by Vibram, and I love them because I feel connected with nature. I can feel everything I walk on. Just as I finished my description, we came to the fork in the trail. To the left takes you to along The Grind, to the right, BCMC. We went right.

Figure 2: Beginning of BCMC Trail

Right away I knew I'd love this trail. There were far less people on it! You have to understand, the Grind can be back to back people in the summer and it's not a wide trail! As we started on our journey up the mountain I tried to take in the beauty that surrounded us. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep taking in the beauty and walking. I tend to look down when hiking, and for good reason. Roots, rocks, tree bits, narrow trail and sometimess drop offs where you could fall for a very long time. Until coming to an abrupt stop by hitting a tree or rock. Yeowza.

I did stop now and then to take a photo or grab a sip of water. Of course this also allowed me to catch my breath a bit. It's hard to hike up a mountain and talk at the same time!

Figure 3: Lisa setting the pace and guiding us to where we needed to go.

Thankfully Lisa was leading the way so I could focus on talking and walking. I did look up once in a while to see if I could find the tree markers, those flourescent orange diamonds that mark the trail. I'd like to hike here on a regular basis so I figured I should pay attention a wee bit. For the most part the trail is easy to follow, but there are some areas where you could go off to the left or right.

While we were hiking we could hear the birds, and the odd squirrel chirping away. This little guy decided to pose for a photo. As soon as I was done taking the photo he scampered off chirping away as he went.

Figure 4: The posing squirrel.

I'm not sure how far up we were at this point. My feet were feeling good, and my legs for the most part - despite having a good strength training workout the day before. The one thing I could feel were my calves. It was a nice time to stop for water and take another photo! See how sweaty Lisa is? I was about 5 times as bad. Did I mention how much I sweat??

Figure 5: Lisa, friend, hiker and climber extraordinnaire!

It felt wonderful being in the woods, as well as having a good friend to share the experience with and to chat with. I had been gone the previous week so we had a lot of catching up to do! Here's the thing with chatting while hiking though...sometimes we forget to look up for the trail indicators...

Lisa had mentioned that if you come out of the trail and spot the chairlift, it just means you went off track a wee bit and if you walk to the left you will get back onto the trail towards the roundhouse. Guess what we saw when we came out of the trees?

Figure 6: Ooops, I see chairlift!

We had a good giggle about this. Funny thing was that towards the end I HADbeen looking for the markers and thought we were on the right path. Oh well! Likely it was a good thing because if I ever come up here on my own, or to show someone else the trail, I'll know what to do if I see the chairlift!

At this point I was feeling my legs pretty good. And my lower back. Mental note: must do more low back and core exercises! We weren't 'out of the woods' yet though! There was still more up, albeit less steep up. We headed to the left and got back on the trail. This part is where you are parallel to some of the sewage piping. At one point Lisa said 'Don't take a breathe!' Too late, I had, and I gacked. Urgh. What happened to the glorious smell of pine trees?!

Finally we were at the top. My feet felt fine and I was happy there were no blisters and not too much in the way of rocks or dirt in my shoes. My legs were happy there was no more up of course. I think I'm going to do this hike on a regular basis to build up some strength!

My feet after the hike:

Figure 7: Post-hike tootsies - a little bit more dusty.

Figure 8: Huh, not bad. Kept the dirt out pretty well!

Before we headed down on the gondola, yes, you can take a gondola down rather than walking down, Lisa took a photo of me at the top. That's West Vancouver down below, and you can see the tip of Vancouver where UBC is. It's funny because when we started the hike it was very warm out and sunny. It had covered over a bit and there was a welcome breeze!


So you'd think that the hike was the exciting part of the trip, wouldn't you. Amazingly enough, it was the last part of the gondola trip that was the climax of the trip. As I mentioned before, the parking lot was packed full of people. Needless to say, we were packed into the 'down' gondola like sardines.

Lisa and I were near the front of it and there was a woman with her three children (under the age of 10) sitting on the seat, while we stood in front/behind them. The youngest girl, about 6 years old, looked a little afraid of the experience. Understandable. This was the first time I actually looked out the windows myself and I'd been on this thing since I was a kid!

There is a bit of a drop off when you get going, and the little girl did not take it very well. Apparantly she didn't take any of it very well because just as we arrived at the base, she looked down between her knees and hurled. EWWWWW!

Did I mention we were packed like sardines in there? I took a step back and used Lisa as a bit of a shield. What can I say, I have ninja princess like survival instinct! Lisa, being a mom, wasn't too fussed over the chunder and took it like a pro. I'd just like to mention here that she has proved herself to be a true friend! She took one for the team and, although she stepped back, calmly, she didn't push me in front of her or give me a look when she realized I had shifted myself so I was directly behind her, thereby hopefully not getting any icky stuff on my shoes and bare legs. EWWWWW!

I think the little one thought we were staring at her with disgust, when really we were concerned and sympathetic. Hey, who hasn't felt cruddy at one point in time and been sick somewhere other than in a bucket or the porcelain throne?! The same could not be said for her sister who uttered the words rather loudly, 'EEWWWWW!!', whereas I just thought that statement, while looking on with concern.

After we disembarked, the now sloshy gondola, we surveyed our legs and feet for splash back. Lisa had done a wonderful job acting as my shield, for which I will always be grateful. I was hurl-free. Unfortunately, she had a wee bit on her shoes and a couple drops on her capris. Nothing that a pro Mom like her couldn't handle with a bit of water. She also commented that she figured the little girl had milk and spaghetti for dinner. This was just too much information for me and I started to get a bit queasy myself.

And that was the finale of our hike up the BCMC Grouse trail. I would recommend it to others, just be mindful that you are not situated near queasy looking little kids on the ride down in the gondola!

Peace out my lovely friends!