Climb for Hospice

When we were quite a bit younger, Ali and I were in the Ladner Stingrays Swim Club. Not only did we have swim meets on the weekends and swim practices in the evenings, we also had the most evil thing in the entire world: 7am before-school swims.

That’s right. We had to get up at 6:30, and go to the Ladner OUTDOOR pool. I will never, ever forget the feeling of stepping onto that cold, nubbly concrete deck, and looking into that water just knowing that I had to jump in there.

They told me that the pool was “heated”, and one could certainly ascertain that by simply looking at the water through the mist of the morning, and seeing the streams of teasing “steam” coming off it. I believed them. I actually believed them. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I’d be all wrapped up in my comfy jammies (with my bathing suit underneath, of course), and would sometimes even have a warm blanket draped around my shoulders. My feet, bare and feeling the cold of the deck, tried to tell me to run. They knew that it was cold! But noooo. My stupid brain said that I had to get into the pool.

To have to get all the comfy layers off to jump into a massive bath of cold water was not at all easy. To this day I simply cannot handle getting into cold water. I get all panicky and freaked out, and begin flailing in the water as I try desperately to doggy paddle and cry at the same time.

The ONLY thing that made the morning bearable was the fact that my mother was (and still is) an inventive, intelligent woman. She knew that her children wouldn’t want to wake up and go swimming! Did she want to fight with three grumpy, snarly kids when she herself was half-asleep? No!

To wake her children up on those 7am swim mornings, my mother would gently place a small chocolate macaroon on our tongues as we slept. She’d stay with us until we woke up, happily to the taste of chocolate, and then she’d hand us another macaroon and softly tell us that we needed to get up and get ready to go. And we would.

To this day, the taste of chocolate & coconut reminds me of my mom. It makes me smile. It reminds me that even though I may have to do something I don’t want to do, I can make it sorta’ fun if I get creative with it. My mom actually made it possible for us to look forward to those 7am swims. Genius, isn’t it?

And so, that’s why I am bringing a bag of chocolate macaroons with me on my Kili climb. I’ll have them tucked away beside my sleeping bag, and when I am woken the morning, I will grab a macaroon and be happy, even for a brief moment, before I get my cold clothes on and trudge up a mountain.

Gotta’ say, I love the fact that I can turn even the most strenuous of physical activities into an excuse to eat chocolate. Thanks mom! xo

It is a rarity that I actually get sick. I think it has something to do with the fact that I drink about a litre of green tea each day, and then follow that up with a minimum of two litres of water. I haven’t really had a cold or anything for about 5 years or so. So I really can’t complain that I’m sick now.

Humpf. Yes I can.

I’m really not enjoying this cold. It’s not too horrid or anything, it’s just more annoying than anything. I can’t taste my green tea! I switched to yerba mate, but that still didn’t do anything. Blargh.

On the upside, at least I’m losing weight!

I was hoping that I could go to some local businesses yesterday and chat with them about my trip, and see if I could get them to donate something for the KILI GALA raffle. However, considering that everyone I meet sort of pulls back and says, “stay away from me!”, I figured that my plan may be a tad counter-productive. So I sat on the couch in my jammies and watched Ricky Gervais stand-up.

Today I am meeting with Krisitne, who is a reporter from the South Delta Leader. I really, really, really hope she doesn’t bring a photographer with her.

Ugh. Too tired to keep typing. I’ll see you all tomorrow…

I’m not feeling super fab today, so this blog post will be a short one. I need to go to bed. Ugh.

Sometimes I get the urge to just get in my car and go for a drive. One of my favourite things is to rock some snacks and a swack of water, and just go for a long, winding drive up the Sea-to-Sky highway. There’s something so fantastically rewarding about driving from Delta to Whistler to fuel up my car.

I decided to go for a drive this past weekend, and as I drove through Squamish, I looked up at The Chief and realized… well, I’d realized that I’d forgotten about The Chief.

This weekend, Ali and I are going to hike The Chief. I’ll leave the climbing to the pros. I’ll just take a stroll up the back…

Time for sleep now – here’s to dreams of Squamish. xo

Well, yesterday I went to speak with my website guru, and aside from a few wee kinks to work out, my website is almost ready to go!

The sad part is that I’ll no longer be using the blogger page. I’ll have to just put a post up that redirects you to the new site. What a pain in the butt…

However, it’s a good thing, because the website has more info, and is more interactive, as well!

You’re gonna’ liiiiiiiiiiiiike it…

I’ll keep blogging here until the change over happens.

xo

I’ll admit it: I’m a law-breaker. I walk my two dogs without leash.

Call me in! Tell the cops! Have me tossed in the hoosegow!

I walk my two border collies each morning, happily sipping away at my mocha, as they gallivant through town, happy as waggy-tailed larks. They are well-trained beasts, and they listen to me. They can walk about 10 feet in front of me, but if I say “not so far, please”, they’ll come back a bit and walk closer.

To a dog, there is an entire world to sniff out there. Every day is a new day to them, and even though they’ve run their schnoz across the same ground 16 times in the past 4 days, it doesn’t matter – what is old is new again, thanks to the setting and the rising of the sun. My dogs are busy when they walk with with me; sniff here, run there, eat that thing, get yelled at for eating that thing, run over there, bring this thing here… it’s a never-ending Walk of Adventure.

So really, on walks, my dogs honestly don’t care much about anyone else but me. Unless you happen to be made of dog-cookie dough, Luna will ignore you. If you have a stick, Jenn would love to make your acquaintance. Otherwise, she’s got stuff to do, man. Border collies are known for being aloof and snobby. Even if Luna actually does stoop to approach a human, if you go to pet her, she’ll veer off to the left and leave you standing there looking like a fool.

Dude. You just got snubbed by a dog. Not cool. I feel really bad for people when Lu’ does this to them, and it’s so embarrassing to see them walk away nonchalantly as if they didn’t really want to pat that dumb dog anyway.

Generally when I come across people while walking my dogs, we exchange cordial greetings and carry on. Occasionally, I will get the impression that people are not keen on my having my dogs off-leash, and so I call Jenn and Lu’ to me and have them sit and wait until the passers-by have gone on. This usually invokes a ‘what well-trained dogs!’ or a ‘thank you’. But every once in a while, I get someone who is quite angry with me for walking my dogs off leash. Fair enough.

This morning, a lady who was walking her coat-bedecked cute fuzzball, quite angrily asked me where my leashes were. Then she lit into me, admonishing me for having my dogs off leash.

At least, I *think* that’s what she said. I couldn’t quite hear her over her precious little fuzzy angel’s incessant barking. The lady was having a difficult time yelling at me, as she needed to concentrate on holding her dog back as it was pulling and straining on its leash trying to sink its angel teeth into my leg. My dogs had long since passed this woman and her dog without even a sideways glance. There was grass to eat. There were things to pee on. That rock wasn’t there yesterday! OMG I THINK A SQUIRREL WAS HERE 14 HOURS AGO!

I listened to the lady for a short few seconds, but then as I was getting more annoyed at her dog’s YAPYAPYAP-ing, I realized that I needed to walk away before I said something I was going to regret. I wished her a happy day and walked on, leaving her words to bounce off my back as I carried on.

Here’s the deal: go ahead and get mad at me when you see me walking my dogs off leash. But if you can’t control your own dog while doing so, perhaps you should reconsider your rant.

This whole off-leash dog park business that’s been the hot topic of late is so simple to solve. It’s mind-blowing why it’s such a huge problem. Give dog owners a space. Just a small park where dogs can get the exercise they need, which ensures that non-dog people are comfortable in their own community.

I’m a law breaker. An evil, terrible, relentless criminal. I’m ok with that.

At least I know that I have the love of two very happy, well-trained, well-fed, much-exercised, dearly-loved dogs. To me, that’s all that matters. I offer no apologies.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but making fun of my lunch will never hurt me.

I’m getting ridiculed at work.

Y’see, I’ve been on one of Cara’s personalized Nutrition Plans for a couple of weeks now, and although it’s serving my body well, it certainly opens my world up to more wide-eyed gawkers and fascinated head shakers.

I eat about six times a day. It’s not a ton of food at each meal, but it’s enough to make people laugh at me when I stuff the fridge at work with multiple containers labeled with pieces of tape that say things like, “Friday3pm”, and “Monday12pm”. I usually take in a minimum of 4 containers to work each day. Yesterday one of my colleagues popped her head into my office and said, “are those all YOUR containers in the fridge?!” (LOUDLY. In front of multiple other colleagues).

“Yes”, I sheepishly replied, feeling slightly bad that I’m taking up so much room in the mini-bar sized refrigerator.

“Where do you put it all?!”, she asked incredulously.

As I futilely began to explain that ‘it’s not that much, food… REALLY!’, she had already walked away shaking her head and laughing.

*sigh*

These Nutrition Plans are crazy. They absolutely, 100% WORK. After just four days on this one, the results were already easy to notice. I feel so much better, too. It’s about ‘eating clean’, not putting ready-to-eat, pre-packaged, chemical-infused STUFF into my body. Lots of fresh veggies, lots of fish. No bread, no sugar. It is not easy to follow this thing at all, but it’s really worth it.

And so, as I chow down on my 4oz of grilled tofu, 1c of long grain brown rice, and 2c salad (with tomatoes and cucumbers!) with 1tbsp of olive oil & red wine vinegar dressing, at 1pm today, I’ll let the “how’s the bark mulch and power beans?” ridicule bounce off me. Because I know that after work today, I need to go shopping for new belts, as the ones I have are far too big for me, and actually hang off my waist now.

Well, well. Look at that.

I (heart) you, bark mulch.

Just got a GREAT song recommendation to add to my KiliClimb Playlist:

“Barney Fade” (Future Loop Foundation mix) by Fragile State

I’ve been listening to it on repeat, and I am completely in love with it. It’s very inspiring, uplifting and emotional. It’s exactly what I need for my playlist.

Speaking of inspiring, uplifting, and emotional…

I am so thrilled that I can FINALLY let you all in on the BIG FAT SECRET that I’ve been forced to hold in. Ladies and gentleman, I can now officially announce my Kilimanjaro climbing partner:

ALISON HOGG! (*wild applause*)

That’s right, my hiking partner has now become my climbing partner, and we are going to kick some serious Kilimanjarse! Yah, baby!

Now, as cool as this is going to be for me, (to be able to travel to the other side of the world with my life-long friend and hike up the world’s largest free standing equatorial mountain with her), Alison is just totally blowing my mind. Y’see, Alison is doing more than just conquering a mountain; she is conquering her greatest fear: herself.

An extremely private person, Alison has decided to make the most of her journey by inviting the world into her heart, her head, and her home. Her website FatGirlClimbsKili.com is a daring, open space for her to face her fears and admit some things to herself that she didn’t necessarily want to. As you can tell from her website, Ali has a very slick, self-depreciating sense of humour, and she’s braving the openness of the Internet, and the world, to show herself as she really is.

Alison has decided that she is going to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in an effort to raise $10,000 for The Heart & Stroke Foundation. As an overweight woman, Alison is well aware of the importance of heart health, and is willing to show her own personal struggle with weight, fitness, and motivation to the world – friends and strangers alike – to increase awareness to all.

Alison, I am so happy that you and I are climbing this mountain together, and I am honoured to be a part of your journey. I support you, I love you, and I think you’re incredible.

ROCK ON, FAT GIRL, ROCK ON! xoxo

And once again, I joyfully bring you another installment of:

THE PROTEIN BAR TASTE TEST!

I believe this is installment #7. For something new and exciting, I thought I’d rock on down to the health food store and see what they had in the way of protein bars. Chock-full of nutritious and healthy goodness, I was sure to find something to please my discernible palate. And there, I stumbled across three new bars! And heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go!

Brand: Healthy Addictions (this is starting off well!)
Tagline: “Raw Health Bar” (Meh.)
Flavour: Coco Bliss (this just got better!)
First Ingredient: Organic raw coconut

This little bar is a wee jumble of fun packed into an edible slab the size of my palm. It’s small, it’s colourful, it’s almost adorable! (I am SUCH a girl!). It also cost me $4.79, so it had better be damn good for that price. Actually, I’m secretly hoping that it’s terrible so that I don’t really get ‘addicted’ and eventually be forced to sell my possessions to keep myself in a perpetual state of Coco Bliss.

I open the wrapper (fairly easy to open, so that’s always good), and look into the little cellophane cavern to see the wondrous view before me: it looks exactly like a Nanaimo Bar! Oh heaven of heavens! Could this be true?! Why am I wasting so much time staring at this thing when I could be happily devouring it in the name of science? Life is too short! Eat! Eat!

I take a bite – a small one, mind you, so as not to overwhelm myself with the glory that is… that is…

Ok seriously? It tastes like booze! No wait… wait… let me ummm “savour” it a bit longer to see if I can get this taste right…

Nope. I was right. It tastes like booze. Booze-y little bits of coconut in chewy form. No, no… ‘chewy’ isn’t the word I need here. It’s isn’t chewy. Nor is it melt-in-your-mouth. It is neither crunchy, nor crispy. Neither creamy, nor chunky. What IS this texture!?

It’s not really bar-like. It’s not necessarily a solid. Definitely not a liquid. It’s so weird! I take a bite, chew a few times, and then it sort of disappears. It’s the strangest thing. I can’t quite place this texture, although I am certain I’ve had something like it before. Something accidental somehow, something I didn’t exactly enjoy, something… oh god. I know *exactly* what the texture is!

You know how sometimes when you bring a tissue up to your nose, and accidentally inhale a small piece of it, and it lands on your tongue, totally grossing you out? THAT is what the Coco Bliss bar texture is.

That’s right, the Coco Bliss Bar tastes kind of like eating a booze-soaked wad of clean facial tissue wrapped around a chunk of shredded coconut. How on earth did they manage to pull that off?! I mean, that takes a special kind of talent, right there. It almost deserves some sort of peer recognition. An award, maybe! The Holy Crap, You Guys Are Phenomenally BAD At Texture Award. Now that’s an awards-show dinner I’d probably skip.

Toilet paper coconut booze bar. Huh. You know, I’ve gotta’ say, that really isn’t the taste I’m going for either 19,000 feet up, nor at sea level. Bizarre!

These Healthy Addictions bars are enough to drive a woman to drink.

I went for a bike ride yesterday. It was the first time in about 12 years that I’ve been on a bike. I used to really enjoy biking, and had a nice Rocky Mountain Cardiac that I rode around on. But then… well, I got sick. I blamed my biking. Irrational, I know, but when one is sick rationality falls to the wayside. So, I blamed my bike for making me sick, and I stopped riding, and that was that.

Late last year I bought a bike off a very dear friend of mine in the hopes that I would be able to ride it and get my cardio up for climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. It has been sitting next to my treadmill, taunting me for months. “I can’t!” I say to Evil Bike, “You’ll make me sick again!” But Evil Bike is having none of it. Yesterday, Evil Bike finally won me over…

Now, the bike I am used to riding has big, fat tires that allow me to roll over pretty much anything that comes across my path; rocks, roots, branches, protesting teabaggers… But Evil Bike is a road bike, not a mountain bike, and as such it has these teeny tiny little tires that are just a bit wider than heavy gauge dental floss. Thus, each time I roll over anything (pebbles, cracks in the road, paint chips, dust particles…), my brain screams “THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!” And so, my lovely ride through town (note to self: do NOT ride when farmers are spreading manure on the fields!), was punctuated with brief, heart-stopping moments of “THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!”

I am grateful for living in Ladner. Why? No hills. It is the ideal place for the ‘I’m Just Not That Into It’ bike rider. I rode along the farm roads and memories of past bike rides came flickering back… the wind against my cheeks, the rain pouring down the visor of my helmet, THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!… nope. false alarm… that burning/aching feeling in my butt cheeks as I try to find the perfect balance on my seat -kind of like balancing a marble on a toothpick- I remember ‘The Zone’, and I’m hoping that I’ll hit it soon. Then I know I can go on forever! But for now, I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. C’mon Zone… where are you!?

Ahhhh! There it is! And off I go! Me and DJ Doboy carefree, riding in the rain, loving the moment, wishing to god I weren’t so terribly petrified of taking my hands off the handlebars so I could change out of this horrendously difficult gear I’m in… yep, I’m happy, happy, happy.

After riding for a couple of hours (read: 20 minutes), I begin to tire and want to head home. I know this is a bad idea, as I need to get some cardio done today, and if I turn back now, it will become a bad habit where I ride for a scant couple of hours (again, read: 20 minutes), the go home and eat popcorn. But I’m tired. But I should keep going! Awww, man, I’m tiiiiiired! My legs hurt! Must… keep… going… willpower… fading… must… find… inspiration…

I decided to ride past the Hospice. That’s what I’m doing this for. I can’t forget that.

And so I turn, and I ride, and I remember. Want to guess what I did when I rode past? One guess. C’mon…. you know this one! It’s easy! Thaaaaaaat’s right – I cried. Just a little though! I carried on and rode for a little while longer before making the decision to head home. It was time, and I was happy with what I had done, especially considering I hadn’t done anything like it in over a decade.

I ride past my friends’ homes (Hi Tony!), and slow down to see if anyone is out in their yards (Hi Laura! Hi Better Still Day Spa!), but alas no one is about (Hi Bin! Hi Amelia!), and I weave my way among the familiar streets of my home town (Hi Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuds!), until I’m happily back (Hey Lynda! Hi Brian and Valerie!), and ready for a well-deserved rest.

I don’t think Evil Bike is as evil as I think she is. I had fun! In fact, DJ Doboy and I are actually looking forward to hanging out with her again. Life is good.

Yesterday I decided that I was going to use part of my ‘For Gear Only’ donation that I earlier received from a very generous, imaginative, amazing person. I took $500 and headed downtown to Mountain Equipment Co-op (aka: Co-op, The Co-Op, Equipment Co-Op, Mountain Equipment, M.E.C., MEC…) to tick some items off my Gear I Need list.

I chose MEC because the prices are good, and it’s basically a one-stop-shop. I need a headlamp, gaiters, gloves and liners, base layers, mid layers, thermal underwear, pants, shorts, improved cardio, legs of steel, the will to survive this climb… you get the idea. Anyway, MEC seemed the right choice.

How totally uninspiring MEC was.

Is it just me, or has MEC really changed over the past 10 years? I used to be able to walk in there and leave with arm-fulls of stuff. This time around I couldn’t find anything that I really liked, and the stuff that attracted me was hella expensive.

So I left.

I walked down the street and into Valhalla Pure on the next block west. I bought my boots here a couple months ago, and they were really good to me. So I sought out the same salesdude (it must be a hiring condition of all outdoor sports shops that a certain percentage of employees be from either New Zealand of Australia) and listed off some of the things I need. He showed me some stuff, and the prices weren’t too bad. But then he said, “why don’t you start upstairs in our sale section?” Upstairs?

I went upstairs (tripping once because I was too busy gawking at the photos of shirtless climbers that were on the wall), and…

*Cue Angelic singing here* GLORY BE!

It was awesome! All the clothing I needed at really, really reduced prices. I loaded up! Pants, tops, a jacket, a headlamp… ‘oh what fun it is to buy in one store on Broadwaaaay…’

So, I came out of there with a bag full of stuff, having spent $474. That may seem like a lot of money, but for the amount of gear I was able to purchase, it’s a phenomenal deal.

Valhalla Pure, I love you. Thank you for being so generous and full of awesome. So convenient, so full of quality equipment, so very understanding of my fetish for photos of shirtless climbers…

I’ll be back my wondrous, giving friend. Oh yes, I will be back.