Friday, April 16, 2010

Things I've learned...

There are some stories that just live on and for as long as I’m in the running community, I know this is one that will stick with me. I was very late arriving to my second half marathon, alarms were set to the afternoon instead of morning, and though the saga of arriving to the start is a story in its own right it is the bathroom visit that has its own notoriety. Along the route were port-o-potties but they all had lineups so I made the decision, based off of other’s experience!, to dash into the Waterfront Renaissance Hotel to use their facilities. This detour lost me time that would have seen me finish the half in 2:15 – my goal time. I wrapped up my point succinctly for the clinic last night:

If you set your alarms for the PM instead of the AM and have no time for your morning BM…you will feel shame when you have to stop for a bathroom break. And for everyone’s reference – the bathrooms in the Waterfront Renaissance are to the back, on the right and no, there is no concierge!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Booty Camp

Last summer I saw some bright pink broadsheets announcing the latest company joining the ranks of Vancouver’s boot camps: Booty Camp. A boot camp run by women for women. This Spring, some teammates and I decided to try it out. Our first session was a humbling one for me. Running and soccer may keep my legs relatively fit but my arms are not in the equation.

As we reached the halfway mark, my arms started to give out. It was piss pouring rain and the wind was blowing it into my face as I attempted set of twenty pushups. I got to three. Arms trembling, I started my fourth and my arms folded under me and my face kissed the mat. Levering myself up, I called that twenty and started my lunge jumps. Once finished, I was back for set two of twenty pushups.

I knelt on my mat, wiped my face and thought maybe this time I could do five. Five is derivative of twenty, I figured that would be close enough. I got to two and kissed the mat again. Let me note that I wasn’t even trying for the pushups balanced on my toes – I started and ended with the pushups balanced on my knees. Actually, I ended on my face.

What followed was the core workout and stretching. I wish I could say the stretching helped…but the four subsequent days of different muscle groups in my arms beg to differ. That night when I got home, it was with shaking arms that I lifted the 2L orange juice container to my lips. I spent the next four days using my stapler with two hands, my stamps with two hands and swearing every time I lifted my arms.

And then it was Monday, and time to start over.

High school

In many respects I feel that high school reunions are outdated; with the prevalence of social websites such as Facebook, you can easily get in contact with anyone from high school or university. You can have the whole awkward sharing of your lives online – complete with pictures. I recently accepted a friend request from one high school acquaintance and hard on its heels followed two others. While I find it interesting to see what they’ve done in the last ten years, I do find myself wondering why they’ve added me to their friends. Why bother if we still don’t talk?

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Comedy Live

My mother does stand up comedy and from time to time I think that perhaps I could do stand up too. What always stops me is the fact that I get the most laughs from people when I have a partner in crime –- someone I can bounce words with and escalate into hilarity. I’ve watched improv and thought that perhaps I could do that but, again, it all comes down to the other people and how well I can pick up what they’re throwing down. I’ll just subject my soccer team and running groups to my song and dance routine.

Gettin' started again

I once read a fanfic whose plot mirrored Suzanne Vega’s “Tom’s Diner”.
I really like that idea – of using one media to shape another. My
interests tend towards the more obvious: concrete poetry and the like.
I tend to think that my writing style is rather like a reflecting pool –
interesting images but not a lot of depth. Perhaps that is because I
don’t commit myself fully to the writing or to the individual pieces;
it’s hard work, commitment. It’s hard work to not just come off as a
drama queen or a caricature. I shouldn’t take myself so seriously.