Climb for Hospice

Yesterday Ali and I went to Open Space Yoga‘s 5year Anniversary shindig. Michael had graciously invited us to go and sell tickets to the Kili Gala, and we happily took him up on the offer. When I showed up, Michael already had a little Kili station waiting for me

Awesome, huh!? I borrowed a few of my mom’s rhinos from her collection to add a little African flair, but Michael did all the hard work, and set up a place where I could easily chat with people and accept donations without awkwardness. Thanks Michael!  xo

Open Space Yoga is truly a well-loved place, as is easily evidenced by this photo I took of the studio a mere 15 minutes after the doors were opened.

Lots of people came to help celebrate, and Michael threw a fabulous party for us all. There was a woman doing reflexology, a fantastic array of incredible food by Jini’s Ethnic Gourmet, and there were art pieces hanging on the wall from talented local painters. Oh! And there was a really talented young woman there doing henna!

There were also a couple of very talented guitarists providing background music, and we were all treated to a fabulous belly dancing performance by Fanny, who also teaches belly dance classes at Open Space Yoga! The music snaked its way around the room, and Fanny confidently and seductively showed us her moves…

How does she MOVE like that!? While watching her, I got into a discussion with a couple of women about body image, and how western culture values all the wrong things, making women push themselves to illness trying to be like the ‘ideal’ woman we see on magazine covers. And even if women DO finally achieve that look, are they happy? No. There’s no confidence, no assurance, no peace. Watching Fanny dance was a great way to remind myself to dance to the music, and not to the image. Hey Ali, Lil’ Miss Fat Girl… what do YOU think of Fanny’s performance?

That’s what I thought.

By the way, that little red cup that Ali is holding – this is what’s in it:

I had about 14 cups of it.

Which may not have been a good idea…

“…wait. I’m climbing a mountain?! That doesn’t seem like a good idea at all!”

But all is well. I snarfed down a few of the decadent desserts that Jini had brought, and the sugar went right to my brain and destroyed that wretched clarity. Thanks sugar!

All in all, it was a lovely afternoon. I spoke with a lot of interesting people, and met with more of the beautiful generosity that this community shares. I had people coming up and giving me whatever spare change they could find at the bottom of their purses and pockets. Every single donation makes a difference, and I can happily, PROUDLY say that $3296 has been raised for The Delta Hospice Society to date. YOU ROCK!! Thank you so much.

And even though I am continually worried about how the Kili Gala will turn out, and I constantly fret over making sure that we get all 250 people through the door, after a day like yesterday, I’m reminded of something that I so often forget to do…

I think I need to take more time to focus on my breathing. It will probably be very beneficial when I’m climbing, considering that I’ll HAVE TO focus on my breathing when I’m climbing. Practice makes perfect, right? There’s something to this whole ‘breathing’ thing. It gives you life, yes. But more importantly, it helps you live. Right eternally-smiling-and-forever-peaceful Buddha?

Right!

Happy 5th Anniversary to Michael and to Open Space Yoga – it’s a joy to have you here.

I was speaking with my friend Min last night, and we got to talking about how our lives have changed. Min has always dreamed of being a chef, and just this past year she enrolled in a chef training program and is loving every minute of it. Her dream is on its way to becoming a reality, and that is SO cool!

As for me, I have always dreamed of being a writer. Ever since I was a little girl, I could see myself as a published author. This dream really got legs when I was in 4th grade, and my teacher sent one of my stories in to Owl Magazine. (It was a story about my dog Oreo, and a red dragon. I have no idea why...) Anyway, it wasn’t chosen to be published, but the fact that someone else thought that my imagination was good enough to show the world… well… that was it. I was a smitten kitten with the written word.

And so… here I am, with this blog, making a point to write every single day. Every day that I write, it makes me anticipate the NEXT day when I get to write again. My mind is constantly working, thinking of ideas and topics to blog about.  In a way, I’m living out MY dream too, just like Min is living out hers.

And the funny thing is, we both can feel that our lives are going to change. Soon. We can’t say exactly what’s going to happen (who can?!), but we know it’s something… something big…

Now, Min and I have been friends for a long time. In high school we both were in a production of West Side Story (She was a Shark chick, and I played the role of ‘Anybodys’). And as our conversation last night progressed, we both felt the need to burst into song. At the same time, out of the blue, and with hearty gusto, Min and I channeled our inner Jet and our inner Shark and just let forth:

Could be!
Who knows?
There’s something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannonballing down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!

Come on, something, come on in, don’t be shy,
Meet a guy,
Pull up a chair!
The air is humming,
And something great is coming!
Who knows?
It’s only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Maybe tonight . . .

Better than caramel and chocolate.

Better than peanut butter and bananas.

Better than french fries and milkshakes.

The greatest combination in MY world is THIS.  This video is so moving… just you wait until you get to the part about Rose…

Welcome to S.A.I.N.T.S. – a HOSPICE for DOGS. Greatest. Combo. EVER.

I have written about S.A.I.N.T.S. before, but thought that I’d bring them back to the blog due to some recent coolness. The Vancouver Foundation has created a short video about S.A.I.N.T.S., and I wanted to share it with you all. Aside from it being a really great video about a really great non-profit rescue organization, there’s something a little MORE special about this particular video.

The majority of the photos in the video were taken by my incredibly talented friend, Sheena (AKA – The Food Lady), who not only photographs rescued dogs, she actually rescues dogs herself!

Sheena has the most amazing knack for snapping a photo of an animal the most perfect moment. She has taken many photos of Luna and Jenn (mostly of Jenn –check out “Captain Icebeard”– because she’s mega jealous that *I* adopted her), and they always seem to portray EXACTLY who Jenn and Luna are.

Wanna’ know the REALLY cool thing about all this?

…Sheena has donated a pet photoshoot to the Kili Gala raffle!!  This is a seriously awesome prize, my friends. It usually costs about $250 to have Sheena “shoot your dogs”, and you may be able to get this photo shoot for a mere $22 at the Kili Gala. Something to think about if you’d love to have some professional photos of your bestest friend(s).

There are a lot of good people in this world, and I love that I am friends with one of the goodest (IT’S A WORD!). Sheena rocks. She gets all freaky when you try and compliment her, but she can suck it up today. She deserves some serious praise.

And to the rest of you, I say… HAPPY THURSDAY! May you be fortunate enough to meet some good people today.

xo

First thing yesterday morning I received an email from Ali. In effect, it said:

You know that warehouse that stores all the excess Whitecaps soccer gear that you and I are taking to that Rwandan orphanage to donate? Yah, well… that warehouse burned down last night. We lost everything.

Gone. All of it is gone. There were shirts, cleats, socks, shorts, soccer balls… everything that we were hoping would bring a little more joy into the lives of some kids on the other side of the world. Gone. How completely surreal and totally unexpected.

Why did this happen? I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. So… what’s the reason for this loss?

Even though Ali and I were both saddened by the loss of all the stuff, we quickly realized that the stuff wasn’t the important thing. We don’t need stuff to give. We have our time to give instead. Why not go to that Rwandan orphanage anyway, and spend a couple of days playing soccer with the kids? Maybe I’m totally wrong here, but something tells me that they’ve been getting by just fine with what soccer stuff they currently have…

And in my head I just can’t help thinking that maybe just going over there and spending time with the kids would make more of an impact than coming laden with stuff. It’s just STUFF.

And that impact I’m talking about? I have a funny feeling that I’m talking about myself there. I think I’ll be learning more from those children than I could ever teach them. That makes me anticipate the trip even more.

Strange that it took a burned down warehouse for me to understand that.

So, tomorrow morning I am meeting with Nancy Macey, the Head Honcho(Honchess? Honchette?) at The Delta Hospice Society. Nancy is a lovely woman, and obviously someone who is capable of making things happen. I admire her greatly, and have a profound respect for her determination and professionalism.

But for some reason, I’m nervous about meeting with her! I’ve met her before, but in a group of people, so she most likely wouldn’t remember me. I’ve heard little snippets from people here and there about things she does that make me smile (you know, aside from that whole Build-a-Hospice thing). Apparently she reads my blog from time to time, and has even forwarded an entry on to someone else. Pretty cool, if you ask me.

So, why does she want to see me NOW? I mean, I’ve been doing this whole Kili thing for months, and now I have a meeting with her. It can only be one thing: my Tobias/God post. That’s got to be it. I mean, did I *really* think I’d get away with the sentence “so, you’ve been dicking around with God again, have you?“…

That’s it. I’m toast.

She’s going to shake my hand and say, “Robyn, we appreciate all you’ve done, but I need to be honest… you’re a little crazy in the coconut, girl. I mean, satyrs? Mermaids? God Veggies? What is WRONG with you, lady? Were you dropped on your head as a child or something?”

I can *totally* see Nancy Macey saying that, can’t you?

So… in order to preempt my humiliation at the Centre for Supportive Care tomorrow morning, let me just give this small disclaimer that I should have publicised at the onset…

The Delta Hospice Society may support Robyn in her endeavor to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro to raise $10,000 for the Delta Hospice Society, but they may not necessarily support her literary oddities. If Robyn comes off as being a complete kookbag, The Delta Hospice Society may be forced to hide under their desks and not answer the door when the media comes knocking. The Delta Hospice Society reserves the right to scream “WE’RE NOT HERE” with impunity. The Delta Hospice Society may not agree with or support Robyn’s opinions, but we respect her right to say them, provided she do so with impeccable spelling and with the least amount of grammatical errors possible. Although the Delta Hospice Society may nod and smile when asked about Robyn’s endeavour, we ask that you please ignore the askew eyebrow reactions. Head shaking and facepalming are par for the course.

Thank you.

There. That should do it. See you tomorrow, Nancy!

In a never-ending quest to find new and exciting ways to train, I decided to do something really stupid: take up swimming.

“But swimming is great exercise, Robyn!” you say, “it’s low-impact, good for your wonky hips, works all your muscles, and lets you gawk at hot lifeguards while working out. What’s not to love?”

I like swimming, I do. As you know, I used to be a Ladner Stingray (along with my climbing teammate, Alison), and so am fairly confident in my swimming skills. However, my body mass is quite different now then when I was a young Stingray, and so there are parts of my body that now sink, as opposed to when I was young and was possessed with all-encompassing buoyancy. It’s a humbling experience. But whatever, it’s worth it… right?

As much as swimming is a great sport and a fantastic workout, (and I find those little blue kickboards to be kind of adorable), and as accessible and inexpensive as it is… it’s the trauma that accompanies it that makes me smack my forehead repeatedly, while muttering “why? why? why? WHY?”

That’s right – Bathing Suit Shopping.

It has got to be one of the most traumatic, depressing, shock-inducing, rage-creating, tear-worthy events that women undertake. I’m not in bad shape, but when I put on a bathing suit, little neon arrows pop up in mid air to point at the poufy spots that shouldn’t be poufy. Alarms sound! Lights flash! There is panic in the street! Cats and dogs living together! MASS HYSTERIA!

There is nothing in the world that a woman does faster than take off an ill-fitting bathing suit. GAH! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! Get it off! get it off!! Bathing suit shopping is the LSD of retail experience.

I have NO IDEA why the US government has such a hard time getting confessions out of terrorists. They don’t need waterboarding. They don’t need Barney and Friends theme music.  All they need is a fully-mirrored room, and multiple bathing suits of descending size.

If I were President, I would turn Guantanamo into a Swimco. And then staff it with size zero women.

“I DID IT, I DID IT! I’M SORRY! NOW FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE GIVE ME BACK MY PANTS!!!”

Aaaaaaaaaaanyway…

I braved the mall, and  *shudder* tried on a couple of suits. I mean, that’s bad enough, right? But to add insult to injury, someone felt that it was a good idea to charge an astronomical sum for swimsuits! Do you SEE how much material is there!? And when you buy a bikini, it costs even MORE! I think the people who set the price for swimsuits are the same people that set the price for printer ink.

But I did it. I bought myself a swimsuit. It was even on sale! I feel much better now… mostly because I won’t have to go swimsuit shopping for another few years.

Now… where is that over-sized beach towel of mine…?

Last night my good friend Elli and I went to La Belle Auberge restaurant in Ladner. It was beyond amazing.

Bruno Marti is a genius. There’s really not a whole lot more to say. For those of you that have been to La Belle Auberge, you are most likely nodding your head in agreement right now. I have no idea how someone can make art out of bananas and butter. It makes no sense! We Ladnerites are so, SO fortunate to have his restaurant in our little town.

And then there’s Tobias. TOBIAS! Now, I may be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure that Tobias wakes up each morning at dawn, hops in his winged chariot and races toward the sun. He knocks on the door of our favourite heavenly fireball and God himself answers. “Tobias!”, God exclaims, “I’ve just made espresso. Come on in and put your feet up on these 40 virgins while I fetch you a cup.” God and Tobias sit and chat for a while, talking about all sorts of important things, like flaky pie crusts, asparagus foam, and how to perfectly bake an apple in a sea of brandy.

God leans in. He looks left, he looks right…

“Now Tobias”, he whispers, “I think that it’s time you finally told me what I need to know. You can trust me, my friend.”

Tobias puts down his cup.

“Listen God”, says Tobias patiently, “I’m not telling you, ok? You and I have had this conversation many times, and every time we do, I have to remind you that you’re GOD. You’re all omnipotent and stuff. You have crazy, freaky monkey powers! I mean seriously dude, you created like, a universe in less than a week or something! You’re just going to have to figure this one out on your own.”

Tobias gently waves away the satyr who is fanning him with a golden palm frond. He leans back, picks up his cup once again, and sips his espresso.

God ponders.

“… would you like a profiterole?”, he asks.

“Don’t try and bribe me God”, says Tobias knowingly.

Raging, God stands- “Dammit, Tobias! Why are you so freaking stubborn!?” He crosses his arms. He sticks out his Godly bottom lip.

Tobias hands his cup to the waiting mermaid beside him. He stands, “listen God. I’m doing this for your own good. I’ve done everything I can, but I feel you really must learn this on your own. I’ve already given you a lot of secrets, haven’t I?”

“Yah”, says God as he kicks at the dirt in a pout.

“Remember the lion?”, Say Tobias

“Uh, huh”, God nods.

“That was a good one, right? I mean, you even gave him that poufy thing at the end of his tail like I suggested! You did a really good job with that. And what about that whole Peace on Earth concept? You really ran with that one! I mean, the idea came to me, and I told you about it, but you really made it your own!”

God bashfully raises his eyes. “Yah… that was pretty good, eh?” (God is Canadian)

“God”, Tobias says as he rests a hand on God’s shoulder, “you’re talented. You should know that by now.  You are capable of some pretty funky things, my friend. So you need to learn to trust in your abilities. I can only teach you so much, the rest is up to you, ok?  Ok? God… are you listening to me?”

“Yah,” says God as he drops his hands, “I’m listening. Thanks Tobias. It means a lot to have you believe in me, you know.”

Tobias and God shake hands. They walk quietly through the Lotus Flower garden toward the Dinosaur sanctuary. God waves his hands this way and that, as imps and sprites collect armloads of Heaven-grown herbs, and woven baskets of angel-blessed vegetables. God and Tobias walk along, continuing to talk about all things gastronomical. They stop by God’s kitchen where Tobias teaches God how not to over-stir scrambled eggs. God is grateful, because he really sucks at making scrambled eggs for some reason. God waves his hand over Tobias’  head and bestows upon him the gift of butter-fat-imperviousness. They high-five each other.

And then, with Tobias’ chariot laden with cloud-grown goods, the two shake hands and say goodbye. God presents Tobias with a floating bag of profiteroles. Tobias puts it in the glove-compartment, and with the help of extra-cute fluffy puppies and ridiculously adorable wide-eyed kittens, he gets into the chariot.

And as Tobias descends back to Earth, God leans against the door of the sun, wiping his hands on his goldleaf apron and shaking his head. God looks down and sees happily dancing broccoflower at his feet. He smiles and walks back to his kitchen.

Tobias and his chariot full of God Veggies alight at the back door of La Belle Auberge. Bruno stands at the door with arms crossed. “So”, he says, “been dicking around with God all morning again, have you? Which of your secrets did you give away THIS time, Tobias?”

Tobias looks up, smiles, and says, “I didn’t tell him about the sablefish, Bruno. I promise.”

And as Bruno and Tobias step into the La Belle Auberge kitchen, lightning forks across the sky.

I skipped the gym on Thursday. Normally I don’t do that, but I was feeling overwhelmed and I needed to take a break from something – unfortunately, it was the gym that got the axe this week.

I felt guilty about it, yes, but at the same time I knew that I needed a rest. I’ve been going at Mach 2 since I made the decision to climb Mt. Kilmanjaro – it’s all I think about! Training, fundraising, buying gear, looking at flights, researching hotels, researching safaris… I’m the Chuck Yeager of thinking.

And when I’m NOT thinking about something revolving around this trip, I’m feeling guilty because I’m not in “perfect” shape. I feel guilty when I eat a cracker, guilty when I drink a Gatorade, guilty when I drive to the grocery store, guilty when my pants are too tight, guilty when I eat bread, guilty when I drink wine, guilty when I give in to one of my many, MANY chocolate cravings – guilt, guilt, guilt!! My brain thinks it’s a Jewish matriarch.

On Thursday night, I looked in the mirror and thought, ‘you know what? I don’t look that bad right now…’ I finally saw that maybe I was being a little hard on myself for not having a body that looks like Elle MacPherson‘s.

Maybe I’m ok with having a body that looks a little different. Is having a muffin top all that bad? I mean, it’s not THAT much of a muffin top – it’s like… like… like if a baker only half filled the muffin tin, and the muffin just sorta‘ baked over the top. My belly kind of looks like THIS…. (and I certainly wouldn’t complain if the rest of me looked like that!)

I love women like Sophia Loren. She’s all about women having a little pudge. Drink wine! Eat pasta! Eat bread! Now THAT’S a role roll model!

So maybe I’ve had a brief glimpse of acceptance. Maybe I’ve had a moment of being ok with what I look like. So what if I don’t weigh 128lbs. I haven’t weighed 128lbs since high school! And who wants to look like they did in high school?!

Muffin-top or not, I can still climb a mountain.

…I just had a thought.

Have I finally found acceptance, or have I just found the perfect excuse for laziness?

Who cares!  I’m climbing a mountain.

I cried on my way in to work this morning.

I had my iPod on ‘shuffle’, and the song it chose to play was The Rainmaker from The Power of One soundtrack.

Now, here’s there thing about The Power of One – as much as I loved the movie, in my opinion the book  is far, far better. It is the book I most recommend to people when they are looking for a good read. The only downside to the book, is that it doesn’t have the incredible music that the movie does. Ahhhh, Hans Zimmer… is there anything you can’t do?

For me, The Rainmaker is by far the most moving song on the The Power of One soundtrack, and this morning when I heard the first few seconds of The Rainmaker, I got chills.

Then the tears came.

It made me think of my fast-approaching trip to Africa, and how completely overwhelming it is to consider. It scares me, but I also sense a strange kind of peace at the same time. I can’t shake the feeling that this trip will change my life. I have no idea what to expect, I don’t know how it will go, who I will meet, how the air will smell, or how the earth will feel. But I do know that something there is waiting. I don’t know if it’s something good, or something not so good, but I know it’s something.

My life right now is calm. I’m not in a place where I feel that I must change something. I’m content.  I enjoy my days (although I’d really like to have a nice, handsome, romantic boy to share those days with… but that’s another story altogether…), and really feel that I am a happy, successful woman.

But a change is coming to me, whether I want it or not.  Sometimes one can just sense these things…

And so, as I sat in the parkade at work, I pressed repeat on the ol’ iPod and sat in my car, listening to The Rainmaker again. I saw a world far bigger than myself. An expanse of… something – air, blue, sweetness, openness, red soil, high mountains, a far tree in the distance. A huge nothing of… something.

And for all that I didn’t know about that ‘nothing of something’, I knew one thing for certain:

I’m going there.

Number 13?! Really? I’ve eaten more than a dozen of these things already? Well, some of them I just took little bites from, but there was a reason for that…

Brand: Extreme Protein (by Weider)

Flavour: Chocolate Supreme

Tag Line: “Amazing Taste!”

First Ingredient: (are you ready for this?) High Fructose Corn Syrup

High Fructose Corn Syrup. The pinnacle of health according to Weider Nutrition Group. But wait,  maybe I’m being too judgmental here. Let’s give them another chance and have a look at the second ingredient…

Oh, dude. Seriously?

The second ingredient is coating. COATING. That’s not an ingredient! That’s a noun. And a verb! And what is this “coating” made of? Maltitol, modified palm kernel oil, skim milk powder, cocoa powder, soy lecithin, salt, natural flavour…

I am finding it difficult to believe that this bar is made by a company ‘committed to helping you achieve physical greatness’. A company that states on its website, “Our family-owned business has been built on a pledge to use only the finest materials in every product we sell. We are proud of the fact our products contain no chemicals or drugs.”

So, high fructose corn syrup, “a toxic chemical concoction which contributes to weight gain by affecting normal appetite functions” is a ‘fine material’.

Huh. Interesting.

I’m going to be honest with you here: I only took one very small bite from this bar, because I just didn’t want to eat it. And it didn’t taste “amazing” to me. The Clif Bar was amazing. The Power Bar was amazing. Weider’s Extreme Protein Bar was a huge disappointment. In fact, instead of eating the Weider bar, I’d rather eat any of the other protein bars I’ve already tested. Including the Toilet Paper Coconut Booze Bar!

…but maybe not the Bumble Bar.

How can a company whose name is pretty much synonymous with fitness and weight-lifting feel that it’s perfectly ok to have high fructose corn syrup as the first ingredient in their edible products?

The only good thing about this bar was that it made so upset that I was able to build up a decent amount of energy in order to rage about their product to my readers.  Huh. Weider Rage. Go figure…

And so, my final word on the Extreme Protein Bar: Booooooooooo Weider. Boooooooooooooooooooo.