Summer Weekends and Belated FMM

I had a wonderful summer weekend. A day spent up island and Shawnigan Lake and another day spent lazing in my friend’s sunny backyard while we celebrated her 30th. As much as spring and fall are my favourite seasons, summer definitely does have its moments.

I made sure to go for a swim while up at Shawnigan (in amongst drinking the incredibly strong drinks our family friend poured. I don’t think the man knows what a short glass is) and it reminded me that a) swimming really is an awesome workout and b) I really love lake swimming. There’s not much left of summer but I’m motivated to try and make it out to Thetis for a few morning swims. (Early is the key for Thetis before the crowds descend on it.)

I was back to my scheduled workouts this morning and got a rude reminder halfway through my run why you should always make sure you're well hydrated. Both my calves cramped up and felt like they had turned into rocks. I stretched them out by walking the second run section but let this be a reminder to you: as much as you feel like hitting snooze, get up and drink that pint of water you planned on before going for a run!

Yesterday was Friend Makin’ Monday (guidelines here).

The theme was letter to your future self and as much as it made me giggle to contemplate leaving:
Dear Future Self,
I hope you got your shit together.
Sincerely,
Me
I figured a proper response with some thought behind it was the appropriate thing to do (no matter how much I like to giggle). As a result, I’m a day late but some thought actually went into this so I guess it was worth the wait.

Dear Me-Sometime-In-the-Future (let’s say 10 years),

I’m not going to lie, I’m struggling to be the person I know you deserve me to have been but I hope that you’re happy with where we ended up. Remember that 10 years ago from when I write this, this is not where I thought I would be either but the journey’s been awesome so I’m happy with it.

I hope the adoption went relatively smoothly. What country did we end up deciding upon? I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a West African Country to open up their adoption laws so you can keep the child immersed in their culture through Mohammed, Manimou, N’nato, Abouboucar and the extended MoonDance family. How about the possible plans for a second adoption? Yeah? Nay? Still debating?

I hope you’re the regular multi-day hiker that I want you to become. That’s something I always assumed I would become as a child, and it’s a dream that I don’t want to give up on. Not yet. Not until my knees give in. Or my back. Or some other required body part. And have we climbed Meru yet? Or at least made plans to head back that way?

Did we ever run that marathon? Even more important, did we travel somewhere for a really awesome marathon? I'm keeping my fingers cross that we've done the Drei Laender marathon. I mean, come on. Three countries in one race? Kind of awesome! Built in excuse to hangout with the Hostettlers, Fuchs and Villigers? All awesome!

This is Bodensee (or Lake Constance) that you run part way around for the Three Country Marathon.

My friend's adorable boys are not included in the race package.

And you know how much I love the apartment I’m in right now but please, please tell me you’ve got yourself sorted and have a house (rented or otherwise) with a yard and that you’ve gotten a chocolate lab from the SPCA and named him (or her) Murphy. Because Murphy is just the perfect name for a chocolate lab and beer drinkers will get the joke. Scratch him behind the ears for me. Oh, and maybe make some of those treats that Ian said Thompson loved so much. Don’t argue with me, just do it. And don’t let him terrorize the cats too much (if they’re still around in 10 years).

Doesn't the Chocolate Lab look like a tall pint of Murphy's?

Please don’t have lost your amazement at the wonders of the natural world. Does thunder still make you smile? Do pictures of lava flows still excite you? Does a starry night still take your breath away? Please say they do.

And please tell me that you still sing to yourself when you think no one can hear you and that you bust out the dance moves when the feeling strikes you. Don’t worry about embarrassing your children when you do this in front of their friends. You grew up with your dad doing that and you survived. So will they. In fact, it might even help to make them even more awesome.

Also, have you single-handily negotiated peace in the Middle East yet? No? You should get on that. I’m too busy to deal with it right now.

Sincerely,
Me (from 10 years ago, which is really right now when I write this, but not when you read it, you know what? I’m just going to assume that we’re all on the same page with this and close these parentheses.)

Tackling the Healthy Living Mountain

Normally I'd do a little ramble prior to starting the Friend Makin' Monday but today's topic excites me and deserves it's own post because I get to talk about my favourite subject: ME! Tanzania (and travel). So, without further ado, it's FMM!

Guideline: Answer the question on your blog, link to it in the comments over at All The Weigh and then comment on other peoples. So simple the Geico Gecko could do it!

FMM: Defining Moments

Was there a defining moment in which you realized that you needed to lose weight? If so, will you elaborate? (If you experienced this moment in some other area of your life, please feel free to share that too!)

My plane touched down at Kilimanjaro International Airport at 10:30pm. Once we left the lights of the airport, the absolute darkness of the place hit me. There were no street lamps and the only thing we could see was what as illuminated by the headlights of the Landrover. I thought the excitement of my first day would keep me awake but after two days of travel to get there, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Kara and my shared room until the volunteer quarters were completed. (I was the far bed.)

My first real look at my surroundings was the next morning when I rolled out of bed at 6:00am. I groggily wandered my way up to the Baby Home (fancy word for orphanage) for my first day of work. The first thing I saw was Mt. Meru beyond the compound walls.

Hand's down, this is the picture that most makes me ache for Tanzania.

Meru in the background, Baby Home on the right.

Every morning I looked at Mt. Meru as I made my way to the Home and I'd smile. It was my morning ritual. Even once we moved into the volunteer quarters and could cut into the home through the back door, I still walked the long way around so I could see Meru. It became my mountain. I searched for it from bus windows when returning from my holidays. I stared at it while contemplating life over a Coca baridi (coke cold). I wondered what the view was like from the top. While tourists to Tanzania talk about wanting to climb Kilimanjaro, I dreamed of Meru. For the first time in my life, I had to choose not to do something specifically because of my weight.

View of Meru from Deb's house. Her property ends at the start of Arusha National Park.

The kicker is that there is a very good chance I could have climbed Kilimanjaro but Meru was definitely beyond me. Kilimanjaro is not a physically difficult hike but it's a high hike. I am not saying it's a walk in the park, you still need to be relatively fit, but 90% of the time it's the altitude that does people in. If you have altitude experience and/or you take it slowly, you'll probably succeed.* Meru, however, is a difficult hike. The snob in me knew that for climbers, there's more climbers cred (if that actually exists) in saying you've done Meru than Kilimanjaro. This is one time I wanted to be a snob.

Mt. Meru and Jacaranda from roof top bar in Arusha during a day off.

When you summit Meru, you do it just before sunrise and then watch the sun rise over Kilimanjaro. I longed to do that. I still long to do that. And then I'll hug the ground and whisper sweet nothings to my mountain. You think I'm joking but I probably will do just that.

Unless there happens to be a nest of siafu near by. In that case, I'll whisper sweet nothings from the safety of my hiking booted feet. I've been bitten by them and they hurt!!

Every once and awhile, when I get into a 'why bother?' mood, I pull out my pictures of Meru and go through them. I honestly don't know if I'll ever get back to Tanzania (there's just so many awesome places I want to go to) but I want to know that if I do, I won't have to let Mt. Meru pass me by again.

Sunset on Meru

*My biggest piece of advice for climbing Kilimanjaro is this: each day you spend on the mountain raises the cost of the hike by a ridiculous amount (park fees alone are $100 per person for a 24 hour period) BUT it also greatly increases your chance of making it to the top. If you do not have a lot of altitude experience, take your time and choose a longer route. You may balk at the extra money the longer route costs but if you don't summit, then all your money will have been for nought.

If My Unmarried Biological Mother Hadn't Gotten Knocked Up...

I've just returned from my completely unplanned over-a-week-long non-blogging holiday. In short, oops! I'd love to say that the lack of blogging was due to being insanely busy and always on the go and just not having enough time to sit down and put pen fingers to paper keyboard, but I've already admitted elsewhere that this is not the case.

I even missed this week's Friend Makin' Monday... which is okay because the question was about your fourth of July plans and I'm Canadian, so... my plan was to spend it like any other Monday (crying in a corner wishing I was 20 years younger and had no responsibilities).

I did, however, keep up with running. It's been nice to have a running partner again, both for the social aspect and the accountability. (Speaking of social, I should probably get her a blog name... I know tonight's topic of discussion!) During Monday's run she mentioned that she never would have believed a year ago that she'd be running. This got me thinking about the decisions I've made which have landed me at this point in my life.

(I'd like to say 'great minds think alike' but really, coincidences occur in the blogging world. Caitlin at Healthy Tipping Point wrote about this same idea this morning.)

Eventually, it became a fun game for me and I've started going back to look at some of the larger decisions in my life and things they have yielded which I may never would have otherwise discovered.

For example:
If I didn't decided to move to Tanzania four years ago then
I wouldn't have looked for an African community in Victoria to be apart of when I returned then
I wouldn't have found MoonDance then
I wouldn't have learned about Matoto then
I wouldn't have met AC then
I wouldn't be going to a baby shower in two weeks.

If I didn't accept an invitation to meet a guy in Switzerland (who ended up being my first real love) then
I wouldn't have studied German in university then
I wouldn't have met E then
I wouldn't have had someone to hike around Thetis with two weeks ago.

If I hadn't decided to blog then... well, the unknown results of that are still being discovered :)

How about you? What unexpected or interesting end results have your decisions brought you?

A Weekend of Walking

Thanks to a niggling cough on Friday, my run once again turned into a walk. It worked out for the best in the end, however, as I was able to come home, change and head right back out again. I had a fairly epic walk, got caught in a freakishly quick sun shower, and was still home in time to watch Vancouver's first round draft pick. And by 'watch', I mean 'have my twitter set to the live #NHLdraft feed'.

Saturday morning, I headed off to Thetis Lake with a friend to do the Upper/Lower Thetis Trail. Despite a few menacing clouds, our time at Thetis was gorgeously sunny and warm. I'd have pictures of the hike except my camera is still on holidays without me (although it is currently on the ferry so I'll have it back soon!) so I guess I'll just have to go out and do it again.

Saturday evening was a Matoto social at Vista 18 followed by our June board meeting. I often forget about Vista18 when it comes to nights out because I find it a wee bit on the pricey side for food but to just sit and chat with some friends before getting down to business, it was perfect. I was even a very good girl and kept my promise to my mom that I wasn't going to drink any beer after the fairly healthy week I had.

However, the word 'mojito' may have crossed my lips.

And now I'm off for another long walk and then dinner (BBQ steak--yummy!) at my mom's. It's been a good weekend, and it really helps that summer is here (and this time, I think it might stay).

Not Following the Plan

When I woke up Saturday morning to a dark cloud hanging over the very park I was supposed to go for a hike in and my hiking partner texting about a stumble the night before which had aggrivated her calf muscle (perhaps a few too many beers during the hockey game, hmm?), all my well thought out weekend exercise plans seemed to fall by the wayside... again.

I still got out on Saturday morning but instead of a challenging up-down, I did a relatively flat urban hike so I could stick close to shops I could duck into if it started to rain. It never did rain. In fact, it turned into a beautiful day for a hike. *sigh*

I also spent Saturday pretending I was a lumberjack. Yeah, you read that right. My dad's property backs onto a forest. Between the encroaching overgrowth and the tree that got tired of standing upright, there's a lot of work to be done around the house. I love the sound of a chainsaw and the smell of fresh sawdust. It reminds me of my childhood (and all the hippies in Victoria just gasped).

Pretending one is a lumberjack works up quite the sweat. I might have to suggest it to various workout groups around town. (And if they happen to clean up my dad's property while getting their workout... BONUS!!) It works up such a sweat that I decided beer was in order. So did my Big Bro. We stole it from Baby Bro's stash. We're good siblings like that.

I headed out for a walk today with a friend and I've picked up a new running buddy. It does mean that I'll be starting the running training over again because she'a beginner but yay for a running buddy. I've been lacking in one since my last one moved on me (although I still love her very much and think she's a fantastic lady even if she does insist on supporting stupid hockey teams like the Flames).

So, in short, I failed to do a single one of the workouts I set out to do but I still had an incredibly active weekend. And now that it's raining, I'm going to reward myself by sitting in a dark theatre :)

Also, GO CANUCKS!!

Photo Highlights

It has been an emotional roller coaster of a week. As a result, healthy habits and nutritious food choices have often been put on the back burner. I'm through the worst of it. At the very least, the rain seems to be keeping the partiers across the road at bay tonight so hopefully I'll get a good night sleep. It hasn't been all doom and gloom, but I 'mtoo tired to write, so photos will have to do.

I had my first 'real' flamenco class. Love! It! Olé!

I hiked Wiffen Spit (Sooke) in the drizzle with a friend.

I'm a West Coast girl; I love the rain and fog in ways I can't explain.

I canned peaches with my mom. It reminded me of being a child.

I caught a momma raccoon giving her two babies a few life lessons until she spotted me.

After that she taught them the life lesson 'avoid the people'.

I experimented more with my camera.

I will allow myself one more day of questionable choices (only because I want popcorn at the movie) and then I'm back on the healthy bandwagon. Happy Friday!

Juan de hike with me?

Having found a passion for running I never thought I would, I find that most of my posts seem to center on that. It's great and I'm happy to talk about it, but it's not the reason for my blog. My reason is the Chilkoot and leading up to that, the Juan de Fuca and the West Coast. This year, 2010, I'm supposed to do the Juan de Fuca Marine Trail. Out of the three that I'm doing, it is the newest, most accessible and easiest of the trails which is pretty much why I put it first on the list. (Don't mistake 'easiest' for 'easy'.)

Created in 1994, Juan de Fuca Marine Park Trail connects a series of beaches along Vancouver Island's South-West coastline. The majority of the beaches are accessible for day use so for my first real hike, there's the added security that if it all goes tits up, getting out won't involve a helicopter (a la the West Coast Trail). When I made the plan last June/July, it seemed like a do-able option for the one year mark. Now, it looms ahead of me and I found myself in a slight denial that it was actually going to happen this year. Surely, I meant next year? Let me double check the calendar, nope, I said this year. D'oh.

This past week, I took the first tentative steps towards planning the hike. My mom and stepdad (who you may or may not remember is joining me on the JdF and the Chilkoot) had returned home from a winter trip to Vietnam/Laos and discussions have commenced on possible dates. This is it. I'm doing this! 2010 is the year I will look back on and say "I did the Juan de Fuca Trail". Terrifying, exhilarating, nerveracking and exciting... and all we've done is talk about dates!

Cheese with a side of crazy

So I do my big bit about needing to watch what I eat a little bit closer and not giving into cravings every time one occurs and then I get an email from MySwitzerland today (another country for which I often feel great nostalgia) and the subject says "Grüezi, Do You Love Cheese?". What sort of question is that? Of course I love cheese. I lived in Switzerland, I believe it's therefore illegal for me to regard cheese with anything less than love. Asking me if I love cheese is like asking the PussyCat Dolls if they love skanky clothing. Duh! I open this email, knowing that it will taunt me with a picture and I find this:

It's my favourite type of cheese: melted! It also has my favourite cheese side dish: crusty French bread! Oh cruel fates, how dare you taunt me so. This was all made slightly worse by the fact that I decided I would not hold my annual winter fondue this year. Partially because I'm trying to be good about my food and there is no way to make a cheese fondue healthy, and partially because Spring has arrived and a fondue is very much a winter dish. Alas, My Switzerland, you do taunt me and now I kind of hate you. To take my mind off of cheese (specifically, cheese melted in wine) I threw on k.d. lang's rendition of Hallelujah and listened to it five times. I am a huge fan of Mr. Cohen, but her rendition wins me every time; I can't tell you how happy I was to hear that she sang it at the Winter Olympic Opening Ceremony. It did get my mind off the cheese, but it also made me very melancholy. Note to emo bands every where: listen to that song to really learn how to emote while singing. Better yet, just stop singing; you all really annoy me.

I think I might have some issues. The more I start doing active things, the more harebrained schemes (or "goals" as I like to call them, seems less... crazy) I come up with. I haven't even finished part one of my three year plan (do the Juan de Fuca) and I'm already thinking of things to do after I do the Chilkoot... three years from now. Or maybe I will fit these ideas in before then, I don't know, but I think someone needs to stop me from thinking up new ones. Or maybe I just need to write down a list of things to do in the next 10 years and then transpose it onto a stone tablet cut-to-size so I can't keep adding things to it. I could refer to them as my 10 commandments... assuming there's only 10.

Today's plan grew out of the fact that I have never really seen Wales. I have been to Ireland more times than I can count (well, that's not true, I've been there seven times averaging about 2 months a visit... I'm due for another one) and have travelled around England and Scotland, but other than the Holyhead to Manchester train I've never actually seen Wales. I looked out the train window and thought the countryside beautiful, I read the signs with the village names and wondered what the Welsh obsession with with 18 g's, w's and l's but only two vowels in a name is about, but I can't even point on a map where my B&B in Holyhead was. "Why not make it a point to climb Mt. Snowdon (pictured right)?" was the refrain that kept playing in my head as I walked to work.

The crazy just snowballed from there when I learned about the National Three Peaks Challenge in which people compete to complete the three highest mountains* in the UK in under 24 hours. Of course, people partaking in this challenge drive between the mountains, but what if you hiked it? Sure, it would take some time but wouldn't that be a fun trip? The I scrolled down and saw the Four, Five and Six Peak Challenge (although these are not official). "I've never been to the Isle of Mann," I thought to myself. "Wouldn't that be a fun adventure?" I then spent the better part of my work day flitting between work and trying to figure out if a) this idea's even feasible and b) am I really daft enough to do it? The short answers I came up with are yes and yes but perhaps I should look up other possibilites like public transit only or bike the parts 'in between' or some otherway to make it a bit less rushed than the 24 hours idea but not as insanely long as the 'walk the whole thing' idea. I can see I'm going to have to contemplate this a little bit more before I commit it to my 10 Commandments, but it's definitely being add to that list now!

*as a West Coast girl, I giggle calling these large hills 'mountains'. The highest peak is Ben Nevis at 1,344 metres. The 50th highest peak on Vancouver Island (nevermind in BC, on the Island) is still 500 metres higher than that. It's not that I assume they'd be easy because of their height (I know many smaller mountains that are much more physically or technically demanding than higher ones. Mt. Meru vs. Kili being a great example of that), but if that's the tallest peak in the mountain range, isn't it really just a bunch of foothills leading up to one smallish mountain?

You got my trippin', stumblin'...

Today was the lesson of how an insignificant little trip can mess up your plans. See, there was supposed to be a beautiful scenic picture from the top of somewhere in Gowlland-Tod Park looking up Finlayson Arm to accompany this post, but alas dear friends, it is not to be. After a comedy of errors in getting out to the park (which included my inability to find my hiking book with its driving directions from Victoria) we set off down the McKenzie Bight Trail... and down it was. See, without my handy hiking book, we didn't realise that the path we actually wanted was the Timberman Trail. So we head down, not up, following the north side of the dry creek bed and end up at the very picturesque yet rocky beach before heading all the way back up the south side of the creek bed on a trail called Cascade. I'm pretty sure it's called that because one misstep and that's pretty much what you'll do all the way back to the beach. But I'm getting a head of myself, there's an entire week to cover first.

Getting fit/losing weight/being more active is a great thing. You feel better about yourself when the number on your clothing size gets smaller, but then you fall into that annoying 'between sizes' size and there's nothing more frustrating than shopping when you don't fit either size comfortably. Shirts are a little easier to get away with; they may be a little snug to begin with, but you know that a few more weeks and they'll be fine. Pants, however, are a completely different story. I had officially worn out my jeans, they had a hole which could not be fixed with a simple stitch job and as Victoria was suffering a mini-Fall in the middle of Summer, I needed a new pair. Well, I bravely went for a size down from my previous size (which was already a size down from my biggest at the start of bootcamp--yay!!) as well as taking my old size 'just in case'. I started with the smaller size, hoping they would fit--agnostic me might have even said a prayer to have them fit--and you know what? They did! I did them up, didn't even have to suck in my stomach, and I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself until I looked in the mirror to see the worst muffin top I could have possibly achieved. Now, I'm willing to put up shirts that are a little tight, but I resigned myself to the previous size pants (for which I will need to find my old belt) as I'm not willing to having a muffing top for the next few weeks. I do, however, feel some pride any time I have to hike up my pants. I'm getting fit, I need a belt. Yay me! Seriously though, I really do need to find that belt...

I'm still hitting the gym as often as I can. I am debating, however, of perhaps becoming a morning person with my gym routine. Once I get in the habit of getting up early, I actually like it better for working out. Get it done and out of the way with fewer people around, and if I don't make it, I still have the afternoon aerobics classes. My only downside is that I don't have many shows I have to watch, but for most of the ones I do, they're on at 10:00pm (right now it's Law & Order: UK on Thursday nights, I'm a huge fan of the whodunit shows which don't rely strictly on forensics) so I'd need to get some sort of cheap recording device... if anyone's looking to get rid of a VCR and a couple of blank tapes, you know where to find me. And before anyone suggests it (because plenty of people have), my five year old $190 tv would just make PVR a waste of money (as with Shaw, it's tied into their digital cable options. No point paying for high def if you don't have a high def tv!).

And all that rambling brings us to today and Gowlland-Tod. I was joined on my hike by my stepmom and my friend E. As we were walking down McKenzie Bight, I caught the edge of my sneaker on something--a rock or twig, I wasn't really looking at it--and went over ever so slightly on my right ankle. One of those little stumbles which we all do on a regular basis, it barely broke my stride and no one else even noticed. Going up Cascade, I started to notice a slight pain on the outside of my right ankle, near the Achilles tendon. We reached the top of Cascade Trail, and joined the (at that point) much flatter Timberman Trail with a view of heading to the Malahat lookout point. While the trail remained relatively flat my ankle felt okay, but we hit a rather prolonged, steep part and my ankle started to ache something fierce. I didn't want to halt the other two in our quest for the view, but as I started to feel the pain spread up the back of my calf I had to do just that. I figured the end of this tough stretch would proabably be the top so debated soldiering on, but when another 10 feet on revealed that I wasn't seeing the top of the path, just a bend in it, we turned around and headed down.

It was still a good hike, roughly an hour and a half with an elevation change of about 300 meters (most that happening in about 20 minutes!), we did good. A quick stop at the Red Barn and an ice cream cone later and I was feeling much better. As I sit here, however, there is a definate ache in my right ankle/calf so I'll take it easy for the next few days. Luckily, if the problem persists, I have a doctor's appointment coming up next week.

"Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight" ~W.B. Yeats

I can hardly believe it's been over a month since my late night, foolhardy impulse decision lead to this blog. Although I'm off to a slower start than I had hoped for a millions reasons--none of which are really good enough to be justified--but the blog is helping keep me on track as I had hoped it would. As happens more often than not, I feel temptation pull at me--offering me something I love but I know is a no-no--and then I think of having to come on here and admit that I've failed in my goal, and I find it much easier to say 'no', to make the choice that will bring me closer to my goal, not further. I completed my one month weigh-in and have last 7% of my goal. I'm not totally happy with it, I was aiming for 10%, but given the month I had and the mediocre attempts I had on a couple of occasions, I will take the 7%. I'm planning on a better month this time around. A more diligent meal plan, less social engagements and a couple of good weekend hikes should push that number up a bit higher.

The summer weather in Victoria has really not been helping with this whole endeavour. First, it was so bloody hot it was damn near impossible to get up the energy to get off the couch to get to the gym with fans never mind outside to go up a hill. Now, this weekend's hike up Gowlland-Tod was postponed due to the bloody rain! At least I don't have to think about planning next week's hike. Despite the heat, I did get a good hike in last weekend with my friend, E. We pretty much walked the length and breadth of Victoria, covering over 12k once all was said and done. E turned me onto a great website Map my Run which is great for those who love to map where they've been or are planning on going. It can calculate calories burned and all that fun jazz, as well as it has an option to allow you to set goals for yourself. I feel like I'm becoming a towncrier for other websites, but I'm posting what I've found useful in the hopes that others will too.

The quote in the subject is from "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death". The poem itself doesn't fit my goal in any way, shape or form, but reading the opening sentence of this blog kept reminding me of it so I decided to use that part that did fit.

Cheers.

I've blogged enough, but here's a photo

I've already put up two blogs this week, and although I have a million other topics to cover, I need to pace myself. In the meantime, my weekend hike took me up Mill Hill. I love Mill Hill, it's incredibly challenging being vertical for pretty much the entire time, but it's not as long as Mount Doug. Plus, so few people seem to know about that you can often do the entire hill and see only a handful (if any) people. Still, the area around it is being developed at the speed of Langford so it won't be long before that changes.

The view from the top was worth it.