Ode To My Grannybear...

"Pay attention to the world around you, to the leaves and the flowers, to the birds and the rain.  If you can stop and look deeply, you will recognize your beloved manifesting again and again in many forms." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Today would have been my Grannybears (grandmothers) 97th birthday.  Although she has been gone for three years now, her spirit and love live on in her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and all who ever knew her.

This time of year is always emotional for me. My Granny and I had an amazing bond starting from the day I was born.  One that, despite her not being physically present, is still as strong as it was when she was here.  I guess because of that, for a few days before her birthday I can feel my emotions well up and I spend a lot of time with tears ready to well over.   Then her birthday comes and the tears flow.  To be honest, this behaviour of mine ticks me off.  For one, from the time my Granny was in her 70s she always said to me 'I have had a great life - if I go tomorrow it will be ok'.  Usually when she said this I would say 'Well I'm glad you are okay with that but I'm going to be selfish and say that I don't want you to go!!'  She would always laugh at that.

Today I took the day off work to make the trek over to the island where she lived and where I would go visit her all the time.  I will apologize now for not telling my family (parental unit, cousins, aunts and uncles) that I was doing this...and that I didn't visit you guys as well.   The thing is, I used to go visit Granny all the time on my own and I just felt that I needed to go alone this time as well.  Ever since I was a wee one I would visit on my own.  (Of course it was visiting Granny and Grandpa up till I was 16, then just Granny.)   In fact, my mom said that the first time they went to leave me alone with my Granny and Grandpa they were worried I would have a bit of a fit of separation anxiety.  Apparently after mom set me down I turned around said bye-bye and shut the door on my parental unit.  No worries there!  But I digress.

I took the ferry over to the island with one purpose - to walk the waterfront like Granny and I used to do and to think of all the wonderful memories I had of her.  If I cried, well so be it.  I was going to try not to though.

Granny was one of the greatest influences on who I have become - whether by genetics or example. I learned a lot from her and hope that who I am represents the qualities she taught me.  So who was my Granny?  Well she was someone with an amazing sense of humour, she was smart, down to earth, and typically Dutch in that she was stubborn and would say it like it was - although always in a kind way.  She was an amazing listener and was never judgemental. She was very social and had a lot of friends. She always got the facts before making a decision.  She was practical about things.  She was the best dang Granny a kid could ever have.   So here are some of the stories and memories I thought of today as I walked along the waterfront like we used to do...

With all my weepiness I thought about the fact that I don't recall ever seeing my Granny cry, except for once...which was actually a fake out.  When I was a little kid I decided that I wasn't going to eat anything with 'specks' on it.  (Parents will appreciate this story I'm sure.)  Can anyone define what a 'speck' is?  I didn't think so.  I think the only one who knew what specks looked like was me, which made feeding me quite challenging.  At one point during this stage we were at my Grandparents and I wouldn't eat.  We were in the kitchen - just me and Granny.  She put breakfast out for me and I wouldn't eat it - the toast had specks.  So she covered her face and pretended to cry and said 'Oh I'm so sad, Sue won't eat the food I made' (or something of that nature).  Well heaven forbid I make my Granny cry!  So from that day on I pretty much gobbled up everything in front of me.

Granny always did make the most amazing food.  To this day her potato salad recipe is held in very high regard!  And her cookies.  No one has ever been able to make speculaas or chocolate chip cookies like she used to make.  When I was in university in the east, my Granny would make several batches of both cookies, then package them up in extra large Rice Krispies boxes and send them to me via Canada Post.  Of course they would arrive addressed to 'Sweet Sue' (she remains the only one who would be allowed to call me Sue I may add...) and they would be mostly in bits.  That didn't stop me or my roommates from devouring them (when I let them have a few crumbs).  We would pour the cookie crumbs and bits into bowls and eat them with spoons!

And let us not forget the blackberry jam she used to make!  I have only tasted jam once that was remotely like what she made - and for some reason it came from France.  Who knew they had blackberries there??  There was a whole row of blackberry bushes beside Granny's house and her and I (and I'm sure the other grandkids) would take our gallon ice cream buckets and delicately pick those blackberry bushes clean.  It was well worth all the stabs and scrapes from the thorns just to have some of her jam or compote once it was made.

She loved putting blackberry compote on vanilla ice cream.  Ice cream was a weakness for my Granny.  Well, ice cream and cheese...but never together.   Without fail, she would always have a gallon pail of Island Farms ice cream.  Raspberry swirl, chocolate swirl, and sometimes just vanilla.  (I personally loved when I got to choose the flavour!)  At one point she decided to store it in the freezer in the carport.  I asked her why and she said so she didn't eat two bowls of it after dinner.  I asked how that was working out for her...she laughed and replied that at least she got a bit of exercise walking out to get her first and second helpings!

I loved going over to visit her.   She was so much fun to hang out with!  When we lived back east I would fly out on my own during summer break and stay for weeks at a time.  We would go down to the beach and collect seashells and walk.  She was the one that taught me the healing powers of salt water.  Whenever my allergies were bugging me, which was all summer, she would take me down for a swim in the ocean.   It always worked at cleaning out my sinuses!  As I grew older, and after we moved back here, I would go over just to hang out.  She could always tell if I was troubled by something but she never pried.  Instead she would let me talk when I needed to or she would just be present if I didn't want to talk.  That is a HUGE gift to a kid.  Her ability to do that always seemed to make things better.  It was like her presence was enough to help me figure out what to do.

A lot of times when I was there we would walk.  Granny was huge into walking.  She taught me the importance of being healthy and making sure you did some form of exercise. Even when I was a little kid we would walk for hours.  We would walk to Bowen or Beban park where she would take me swimming or to the petting zoo.  I think she was the one to take me on my first trail walk!  We would walk down at the waterfront.  Pretty much everywhere.  Even when her eyesight started to fail, she would walk.

In fact, she was never one to be still.  If she wasn't walking she was out driving somewhere.  She loved to drive.  She was the one who would pick up all her friends to go play bridge, which was most nights of the week.  It got to be a joke that we would have to make an appointment to see her as her calendar was full up with bridge nights!  She was also a speed demon - despite the fact that her car wasn't that speedy.  I recall vividly driving down the Malahat with her towards Victoria.  She decided to pass a truck that wasn't going fast enough for her.  As we are passing I see another vehicle heading straight for us.  At this point I am silently praying to God, Buddha, Allah you name it.  I am wishing the car was a Flintstones car so I can help it get past the dang truck!  My nails started to dig into the armrest...  We just make it past the truck when the other vehicle goes by.  "I knew this old girl had it in her" she says smiling!  I am not sure when I started breathing again but it took a few minutes!

She loved her car.  It wasn't anything fancy, but she took very good care of it.  She told me once that Grandpa said to take the time to sit and listen to the car when it has just been tuned up.  That way you'll know if something starts to sound off.  One day it did so she took it into the shop.  The fellow gave her some spiel about what needed to be done, but it didn't sound right to her.  So she called up my dad and said what sounds she was hearing and what the guy said had to be done.  He was familiar with the car and advised that it sounded like they were making more work than need be.  So she asked my dad what exactly would have to be done - step by step.  She wrote everything down, and then checked to make sure she had it right.  Then she memorized it.  The next day she went back into the shop and talked to the same fellow and she called him out.  She said she thought he was giving her the run around because she was elderly.  Then she told him exactly what she thought was the problem and exactly what steps would need to be taken to fix it.   I so wish I had been there...I am sure his jaw hit the floor.  She said he apologized, got her some coffee and asked her to have a seat while they fixed things right away.  The car ran as it should after that.  He learned rule #1 that day, never ever ever mess with my Granny! She continued to go back there and always got preferential treatment, as she should!

As mentioned above, she did have her stubborn side.  It wasn't a stick in the mud stubborn thing, but there were times when she got an idea in her head, she would go with it and nothing was going to stop her.  I am sure my father will never forget one of these times...  I believe I was about 8 or 9 years old.  Granny decided I should have pierced ears.  I agreed with Granny (as I always did) that I definitely should have pierced ears.  My father, on the other hand, forbade it.  No, Susan did not need pierced ears and that was final.   Yeah right.  Very shortly after Granny took me on one of our Granny-Susan trips and bada bing, bada bang, I came home with pierced ears.  They were gold and amethyst studs if I recall correctly and I loved them.  My dad did not.  Ooops.

Stories, stories and more stories.  I guess when you live to 94 years old there are going to be a lot of stories about you!   Talking about Granny takes away the sadness of her not being here because it reminds me that she actually is here.  She is always with me in spirit.  She is here with me when I am knitting (which she was a master at!),  she is here with me when I watch Poirot (she loved mystery novels, especially Agatha Christie), and she is here with me whenever I am troubled with something and think 'What would Granny do?'  I make sure that I pass along stories to my cousin's kids because I want them to know what an amazing person she was.  She was an example for us all.

Happy Birthday Granny.  Lots you lots, Sweet Sue.

  Granny in her favourite chair. 

Granny and I at my graduation. Nope, no family resemblance there!  Ha ha

My Spirit Told Me To Run...

“Running! If there's any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can't think of what it might be. In running the mind flees with the body, the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain, in rhythm with our feet and the swinging of our arms.” ~ Joyce Carol Oates 

My inner spirit told me to run and so I did.  It's been a long time since I have run - months actually.  The hip issue that I have had for the past sixteen years, the one that comes and goes like an unruly sinusoidal wave had taken over my body, mind and spirit the past while.  At first when it strikes again I go into denial.  Then I get angry that my body is failing me.  Then I practice acceptance.  I say practice because I never seem to fully accept it when it happens.

This time I tried all those routes, but it kept getting worse.  Go figure, the moment I told myself that I needed to accept it for what it is and stop dwelling on it then it started to calm down.  I am a firm believer that if you are sending negative energy to a body part it will hurt even more - take it away and things get better.  And then there was going to acupuncture twice a week for the past couple of weeks!  Oh the stories I have from that...but that's for another day.

At first I didn't miss not running.  I did other things.  I knit, I walked, I volunteered, I worked and focussed on all the other stuff that can fill up our lives.  Then on Saturday I happened to see a photograph on my friend Mo's Facebook page.  It was some of her running buddies, "the Mochas" sitting in front of a cozy fireplace at a coffee shop post-run".  My heart twitched.

All day I thought about that photo.  I thought about how much I missed having a gang to run with on Saturday mornings.  I thought about how much I missed running.  Then I started to think about where I wanted to run...

The next morning I got on my gear and headed out.  It had been decided.  I would run.  I had first thought about hitting my beloved Rainforest trails, but for a first run I thought that might be a bit much. There is no flat in these here parts.  No, I would have to drive to get to flat.  And so I did.

I headed for the waterfront.  My second favourite place.  Actually, that's not true. It's a tie. I love the ocean as much as I love my evergreen treed mountains.

I had a plan.  I would walk a bit, then do some warmup moves, then start slowly and see how things felt.

I got a few hundred meters when I felt a niggly.  Rather than pushing it as I normally would, I stopped and stretched.  I did a forward fold and looked down past my feet.   As I did I noticed the bright green moss growing on the side of curb that defines the beach from the sidewalk.  How fantastically green it was compared to the grey of the sky, the sidewalk, the water!  I just hung there for a while admiring it's beauty.  Then I tried running again.  The niggly seemed to have passed.

As I sidestepped some deep puddles I looked out at the waterfront.  There were bright skies over Vancouver Island, or so it seemed.  Lots of sailboats were out as well - I gave them all imaginary high fives for being out there!  It was a cold rainy day.

I noticed that there are more artists centres going in along the beachfront.  I even stopped to look at what gallery opening was coming up.  I love that there is still funding for the arts - it's so important.

Then I got to the park where I hang out with my friends wee daughter while they have a little Mommy Daddy time sipping coffee's and snacking on treats.  This is where I taught her to climb the cargo net rope - the trick she apparently took with her to daycare the following week.  Oops.

I looked ahead to my target, the Dunderave pier.  It looked a bit far.  I felt good though so kept going.  Once at my target I stopped and admired the view.  Beachfront, logs for people to lean on, sailboats, and people fishing off the pier.

I forgot that if it was good this way it was likely I would have a headwind happening on the way back and sure enough I did!  At this point I decided a toque might not have been a bad idea.  Then I thought of my friends who were racing in Ironman. At that point they would have been on the bikes and I hoped they were having good day.  I thought about how long ago it was that I used to participate in Ironman and how different my life is today.  I did a check on whether or not I missed that life - I don't.

When I first started to run I did it because I wanted to try something new.  Then I ran because it was my saviour during a time in my life when things went all pear shaped.  Then I did it because I had to as part of my training.  Somewhere along the way I forgot the joy of running I had when I first started.  I have been running since then and liked it, but I was always comparing myself to what I used to be able to do.  That took some of the joy away.  On this day though, I got that joy back.  Pure joy.  I was running with no goal other than to see what happens.  I wasn't comparing to what I used to be able to do.  I was okay with stopping and taking my time.  I was savouring the sights and sounds.  Despite the rain, the wind, the cold and I was in a happy place.

I'm not sure when I will run again.  Perhaps I will try it again next weekend. Perhaps the weekend after.  Who knows.  In hindsight the hour that I was out was perhaps a bit long after the time off and the hip issues.  I will confess my running 'sins' to my acupuncturist when I see him tomorrow night.  I have a feeling I am going to look like a voodoo doll and there is the possibility I may levitate off the table when he sticks me in a few spots.  It was so worth it though...

Peace out my lovely friends!

Stab...

"The doctor of the future will give no medicine, but will interest his patients in the care of the human frame, in diet, and in the cause and prevention of disease." ~ Thomas Edison

So I'm working out at the gym the other day and doing some trap work.  At some point I felt a little tweak.  Or at least I thought I did, it was pretty subtle.  Hence, I kept doing what I was doing.  Big. Mistake.

Fast forward a couple of days later...I managed to ignore the ever creeping tightness and pain in my neck so I could enjoy, in my opinion, the best day of the year - Halloween.  I had a costume contest to attend, not to mention a wee four year old friend who was counting on her "Auntie" to escort her trick or treating.  But now I could ignore it any longer.

Last night I didnt' sleep a wink.  Every time I moved I had a shooting pain hit me.  By the time my alarm went off I knew I likely couldn't go into work.  Then I tried to get out of bed.  It was confirmed, I wasn't going in to work.  My upper body moved as one - I couldn't look left, or down.  I had troubles lifting my left arm too.  Hmmm.   This could be interesting.  The worst was when my love gave me a hug before he left for work and I just about passed out from the pain that shot through my neck.  Okay then...calling in to work and seeing if I could find a acupuncturist nearby because mine was on his day off. Not only that, I knew I wouldn't be able to drive anywhere so it had to be a place I could walk to.  

There was one place I used as a back up when my acupuncturist, Ryan, was unavailable.  I had been there a couple of times and commented once to Ryan that they were a bit more 'to the point' than 'Western' acupuncturists.  I say this with a smile of course.  Ryan laughed and said that yes, Western practitioners were usually a bit more 'tender' when it came to their patients then their Eastern counterparts.   Because I knew this I knew what to expect...

So I walked in, explained the situation and had a seat.  I expected she would be sticking needles into the region there was pain.  It would appear I have yet to learn that with acupuncture it's not always so straightforward.  She lifted my left paint leg and pressed on a spot that had me jump.  'Does that hurt?'  Uh, yeah.  STAB! In went the needle.  Ow.  Now not to scare anyone away from acupuncture - I am a firm believer in it - but sometimes they hit a spot that is REALLY hitting the spot.  This was one of those times.

So that was it...she put a needle in my leg for a pain in my neck.  Then she asked me to point out where the pain was, so I did.  I soon learned this tiny woman had a pair of the strongest hands in the world.  Like vise clamping hands.  After squeezing the heck out of me she asked me turn look up, down, side to side.  This was rather difficult to do, but I must admit, I had more movement than before.  Okay, this was a good sign.

She then told me to keep looking up down left right.  And she left the room.  Alrighty then... I focussed on my breathe while doing what she said.  Up...down...left...right...  My mind started to wander.  I started to sing the first few lines of 'Baby got back'.  Breathing in, breathing out...  Okay this was getting boring.  I looked at the time. Holy hannah I had been doing this for 25 minutes.  Please no more...  Finally she came back.  Only a little more and you can massage your neck.  Nooooo.

Thankfully it was only a few more minutes of this.  I had realized why she asked me if I had eaten...all this up down and side to side would give anyone motion sickness!!  Next up, sitting with suction cups on the sore areas.

The end result, I had some more movement and was no longer walking with my had tilted at an unnatural angle.   (This I only noticed when I looked in the mirror - hmm, that doesn't look quite right...) Funny how we naturally make little adjustments to protect ourselves.

I still hurt, but it's not as bad as it was.  We will see what the night brings.  Hopefully I can get a good nights sleep and not kink it in some way.

I often wonder why I get these kinks and nigglies when I exercise and look after myself.  I think it's just a natural part of aging, or so I am told.  Then I wonder what it would be like if I didn't exercise and take care of myself.  Yikes!  No thank you.  

Be grateful for all that your body gives you...even the nigglies.

Peace out my lovelies.

Lesson Learned...Finally??!!

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."  ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

You would think I would have learned this lesson before...alas, if last week was any sign...I had not.

What lesson you ask?  Not to be afraid of the big bad UNKNOWN!

Fear of the unknown. Seriously, it must be one of the things we waste SO much time worrying about!  When I was a kid I would be paralyzed by that fear.  It held me back in so many ways.  As an adult I stood up to fear.  I challenged it.  And most times I came out on the positive end of that challenge.

Perhaps it was because the last time I competed in an organized sport was Ironman Cozumel in 2009.  And perhaps because that race was a total FAIL in so many ways that this fear of the unknown crept back up.  Who knows.  What I do know is I wasted precious time worrying about a little event I decided to try with my friend Kari.

The event - the Warrior Dash.  It is a mix of trail race and obstacle course.  These types of races seem to be popping up here and there nowadays.  Kari and I had finished a trail running clinic so this seemed like it would be a fun thing to do.  Of course after I signed up I started to look at the teeny tiny photos on the site which illustrated the obstacles we would have to get through.  This is when I started to worry.

• Holy crap, that looks really high, how I am going to climb over without falling?
• Vicious Valleys?  I have to bounce through it??  Huh??
• Hmm, those flames look pretty high...I am white girl with no vertical, how the heck do I jump over that without catching on fire??!!

Alas, that is a sample of the thoughts going through my head as I would try to sleep every night.  That coupled with visions of my being trampled, snapping a femur, or knocking teeth out.  Did I mention I have a brilliantly vivid imagination?  I would do better to put that imagination towards visualizing my career goals...

Anyways, the day finally came and we headed to the venue. First up, to survive the 1.5 hour long wait for a shuttle bus to take us up the mountain - the email received said there would be no parking allowed up there.  Thankfully most of the wait was in the shade. Plus it gave me time to check out most of the peeps up there.  Unlike triathlon, most of the people looked quite fit.  Not to say triathletes aren't, but triathlon is a wonderfully inclusive sport where you will find people of all shapes and sizes not to mention young to older.  The average age here was likely somewhere between 30 - 39 and slim but muscular.  This didn't add to my worry.  I wasn't here to race for a time or anything, just to have fun and not break anything.  

Finally, we got to the race site, the first thing we noticed was it was getting really really hot out.  The next thing we noticed was it was hard to figure out where to go to next!  The organization of the site was not well done.  I'm used to Ironman.  Every move you make is choreographed for the most part and there are a ton of volunteers kindly ushering you this way and that.  

We made our way to the finish area as we were able to see a couple of the obstacles.  That's when all fear of the obstacles drained out of me and I chastised myself for having been worried in the first place. We could see the "Warrior Roast" where you are to jump over 'flames'.  I am going to assume something happened with the propane supply because these 'roasting flames of death' were about 2 inches high.  Seriously.  We laughed.   Then we noticed the last obstacle, which was "Muddy Mayhem".  The online photo shows major mud that you crawl through underneath barbed wire.  Reality:  Muddy water and barbed wire strung about 3 feet above the water.   Huh.  Nothing scary about that!

The race start was in waves and really, although we had assigned times, you could go whenever the heck you felt like it.  No one checked.  I am sure they looked to see you had a race bib, but that was about it.  The race itself was pretty fun once we got past people afraid of a) hills and b) mud.  

The hills....this race took place on a ski hill.  Perhaps the most challenging aspect of this race was simply having to run up and down the friggin ski runs.  Rather...run/walk down, and hoof it back up.  No one, not even the fit of the fit, where running up the hills.  Oh, and the down???  I am convinced 99% of the people that were in this event do NOT trail run.  We got to a bit of single track switch back and they all STOPPED and WALKED!!!  UGH!  Kari and I did our best to run past them.  Not to mention people were tip toeing around the mud.  AROUND.   AGGGH!!!  Warriors run through mud people!  At least this allowed us to pass more folks, not to mention get a little mucky.  

The obstacles...these were completely misrepresented on the website.  The website photos show well engineered obstacles.  Reality were a bunch of contraptions thrown together with 2x4's and plywood.  The health & safety engineer in me was wondering if they were going to come apart as we climbed up over and across them!  However, there was one obstacle I couldn't have gotten over if Kari wasn't there, it was a wall of angled plywood about 7' high that one had to run up and grab onto the 2x4 at the top then hurl themselves over.  I am too short, and as mentioned above, have no vertical ability.  She was able to give me a foot up and then another girl shoved my butt up so I could climb over.  I then reached down to help the others.  Actually several people were doing that.  It was a really nice moment of camaraderie.  Needless to say we made it through these with flying colours and it did add a nice break from running up and down ski hills!  Oh, and not all the obstacles shown on the website were even there!!

Eventually we made it to the end and did our flying leap over the 2" flames...actually I almost tripped trying to make sure I didn't drag my foot.  Why is it so hard to jump over teeny tiny things??  Too funny.  Now that the race is all done I do wonder if I should write to the organizers to voice my thoughts on what I feel is some misrepresentation of the obstacles....

I was glad I did the race and I did learn a valuable lesson.  Rather, I relearned a valuable lesson - not to waste time on 'fear of the unknown'.  Eventually you will get to the time where you have to face the unknown and you will figure out what to do.  Not to mention it is never scarier than what our imaginations make up!  Plus...the unknown can sometimes deliver some incredible adventures!

Some photos after the race...the viking cap will be a great addition to a Halloween costume!  

Peace out my lovelies...and keep challenging yourself!

PS No injuries other than a scrapped knee from crawling in the grass and a sunburned scalp.  Ouch!

Starting with a smile!

 The lovely finishers medal...

 Gortex shoes...great for keeping water out...and for keeping water IN!

Kari and I enjoying the "Flashdance" style washdown!

 The coveted viking cap!

The view from the top - Mt. Baker in the background.

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!