Climb for Hospice

1) The ever-changing window displays at Bryan’s Bookstore

2) People you pass on the street happily greet you with a smile and a ‘good morning!’, even at 6am

3) The number of businesses that put dog-water bowls out front of their stores

4) Hearing the coyotes howl and the owls hoot in Harbour Park late at night, while I am standing on the other side of the river

5) The fact that my dog can happily follow behind a trotting miniature pony in the Trenant Park parking lot at 9:30 on a Thursday night.

Last night at yoga, I was very clearly given the hint that I needed to be honest about something…

This past Autumn, I was experiencing a great deal of pain in my right hip. This leg had always been a bit wonky, and as a kid I thought it was rather cool that I could move the joint around in weird ways, and have it make awfully disgusting popping noises that caused friends to recoil in horror. It was also very handy in getting me out of 9th grade gym class on more than one occasion (sorry, Mrs. Salt!). So, when I was having pain in my hip one day a few months ago, I wasn’t concerned. I knew it would go away. It didn’t go away.

For seven days I was limping around, stubbornly waiting for the pain to magically disappear. It got to the point where I was I was having so much discomfort, that I wasn’t sleeping, and was having moments of extreme nausea and vomiting. That was when I knew something was really wrong.

By this time my very patient mother was chauffeuring me to and from work, so she dutifully drove me to the UBC hospital emergency ward on a physiotherapist’s recommendation. Now, I must say this: the UBC emerg is absolutely amazing. I went in, registered, and was called in less than 10 minutes later. An initial exam was complete, blood work was done, I was given pain medication, and was seen by the doctor less than 15 minutes after that. I was taken to x-ray (after the pain medication kicked in), and the x-rays were ready about 20 minutes later. There was barely enough time for my comfy, fuzzy heated blanket to cool off!

When the ER doc came to see me, she told me that the x-ray showed that I had considerable calcium deposits in my hips, the right one especially. They had been there for a long, long time, and were indicative of arthritis (something that runs in my family, anyway – gee, thanks mom and dad). I had to stop my personal training, something I had been really enjoying doing 3 times a week. I had to stop running. I used to run 10k every other day, and now I couldn’t take a step. Everything came to a grinding, unhappy halt in my life. I felt really, really… old.

Over time, the pain went away, but my hips always feel “tired” now, like I’ve run a thousand miles or so. And now, as more time passes, I am slowly introducing things back to my life: training, running (walking), yoga, and climbing the world’s largest free-standing, snow-covered equatorial mountain. You know, simple things like that.

In yoga last night my right hip decided that it really had done enough work for the day, and just gave out. No more strength, no more listening, just pain. I was totally embarrassed at being forced to show my limitations. I was frustrated and, of course, I started to cry. (Again, I must really thank Michael for the soft, dim lighting in the studio). Michael quite keenly noticed my distress, and came over to gently speak with me. As I tried not to blubber away too loudly, he simply told me to stop, and to go into Savassana. I put down my yoga strap, sighed in frustration, and bit my quivering lip. Michael, the angel that he is, brought me over a tissue and a lavender scented eye pillow. I quietly snurfled away in embarrassment, while people around me were happily pretzling themselves into yoga bliss.

So, after speaking with a kind friend, I decided to tell you all the truth. Here we go: I am climbing a mountain with over-active tear ducts, a fear of camping, a loathing of the cold, and a wonky set of hips.

See you at the top.

So, I went to yoga last night, and you would not BELIEVE what Michael did!!

Just kidding, Michael.

Ladies and gentleman… The Protein Bar Taste Test – Part 6

Exhibit G: Bio X

Brand: BioX – Protein Blast
Flavour: Creamy Peanut Fudge
First Ingredient: Pro Blast Fusion (Our unique protein blend consisting of: 100% cross flow microfiltered and ultrafiltered whey protein concentrate, calcium caseinate, soy protein concentrate, whey protein hydrolysate)

Well, this is hands down the most pretentious protein bar I’ve come across. “our unique blend…”, “cross flow microfiltered…” blah, blah, blah… BioX, please stop patting yourself on the back for having your own ‘unique blend’ of pretty much the exact same thing that every other bar has, and please start creating a product that is somewhat more, you know, ummm… edible.

I will admit that I had a great deal of difficulty trying to describe the flavour of this bar, and so far all I can say for sure is that it tasted kind of like a glob of natural peanut butter dropped onto a wet rice cake.

I actually had to check the expiration date to make sure it wasn’t past due! It wasn’t. Hey, you know, it also kind of tastes like those little Quaker Corn Bran cereal squares! Buuuuut, only if they were jammed full of Silly Putty.

I was actually getting nauseated as I was taking little bites of the Bio X to try and describe the taste. My friend who was with me at the time found this to be rather entertaining, and was delighting in the rapidly changing colours, (and goblin-esque distortions) of my face.

Needless to say, after forcing down about an eighth of the Bio X, it became intimate friends with the nearest garbage pail, and I became intimate friends with a Snickers bar.

BAD BIO X BAR! BAD!

Gather ’round, and hear my tale of woe – my Fisher Peak defeat.

After a night on the town in Kimberley, BC, it was decided that the following morning we would tackle the nearly 10,000ft Fisher Peak. To say that I was unprepared for this climb would be a vast, bottomless understatement. I can’t remember the entire climb, given that I was pretty much sobbing the entire way up, but I’ll give you the details that have burned themselves into my unforgiving brain to this day…

The hike began in a lovely forest. About 3 steps onto the trail it begins to go pretty much vertical. I think I walked for 45 seconds before I had to stop and catch my breath, pulling at the collar of my shirt, feeling as though I were choking. It was instantly obvious that I was going to be the slow one in the group, and I hated that. I am very competitive, especially with myself, so this was a huge blow to my pride. We were a group of about eight people, all of whom lived in the area and had done the hike before. (Our “guide” had NOT done the hike before, and this would prove to be a key element in my sad, sad failure).

Up we hiked, and on I sobbed. My poor then-boyfriend (W) tried very hard to comfort me, but it was useless. I was a mess, and being very hard on myself. After hiking for a couple of hours we came upon a clearing where there was a small lake where the entire hiking party had been for nearly half an hour waiting for me (and W who was wildly getting the brunt of my sheer hatred for the wilderness), and they were ready to go. I had hiked for hours. I had sobbed and snuffled my way for hours. I was exhausted. I sat down by the lake and attempted to calm myself, as the rest of the group got ready to go. I had no time to rest or get my act together. I looked up to where the trail went, and I saw in front of me one of a hiker’s most dreaded things: a huge, steep scree slope.

Scree is essentially loose bits of shale that have gone to the Dark Side, and are very, very evil. When you walk on scree, it goes like this: one step up, slide two steps back. This was NOT what I wanted to do. I knew that after the scree slope, it wouldn’t be that far to the summit, but I knew I didn’t have it in me. I sadly told my party that instead of slowing them down anymore, I would wait by the lake while they went to the top. I am sure they were happy to hear it, but gave me the obligatory “are you sure?”. No, I was not sure. But I was a mess at this point, and knew I had to stop. And so, I sat at the lake, and watched my hiking party tackle the scree slope. 15 minutes later, they disappeared behind a rocky outcropping. All was silent.

I sobbed. Hard. I angrily tossed rocks into the lake. I swore at myself, and hated myself, and got angrier and angrier… “SCREW THIS!” I said. I decided that I COULD do it, and that I WOULD do it! I stood up, and marched with determination toward the scree slope. I started climbing. I slid, I swore, I cried, but I kept going, all by myself, yelling in my head with each step. The anger in me was the energy I needed to get me up that slope. After about 20 minutes, I began to hear cheering. My friends had looked down and seen me coming up the slope, and were rooting me on! I can do this! I was struggling, and fighting, and using everything I had in me to get up this seemingly impossible slope, unsure of what lay ahead once I arrived.

Finally, as I reached the top of the scree slope and fell into the arms of the extremely patient W, everyone around me was clapping. I cried because I was so happy, but just so very, very tired. More than anything else, the physicality of my emotions had all but depleted me. But I knew I could hike for a few more minutes if it meant reaching the top.

And here is where it all goes terribly wrong.

Our “guide” comes up, congratulates me, and says “good job! Ok, so take a second to rest up. We’ve got about an hour or so until we reach the summit”.

My heart sank. An hour or so?

I cannot possibly do another hour. I tell W that I cannot do it. I am defeated. He understands. I wish them all well, and walk back toward the scree slope, to make my way down to the lake, where I will wait for them as they summit without me. I cry as I ‘ski’ down the scree slope. I am heart broken. I sit on a rock at the edge of the lake, patting dust off my boots, wiping the tears from my cheeks… and then I hear a noise. I look back at the scree slope, and see my party coming down. That was way too fast! What happened!? Was everything ok? Worried, I stood up and began to hurry towards them. I met W at the bottom of the scree slope.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?!” he says excitedly. “I was screaming your name as you were going down the scree slope!” I hadn’t heard a thing except the glass-tinking sounds of the scree as it slid around me! W says, “The summit was only 15 minutes away from where you stopped!”

My god, no.

NO.

The “guide” said it was an hour!

“He was wrong!”

So… I was that close? But, but, but if I want to summit now I have to re-climb the scree slope to get there? I have to make you all wait for me AGAIN as I fight up the scree? I…I can’t do it. I cannot re-climb that slope because, really, I have only enough emotional energy in me to get me down this terrible, awful mountain so that I can go pout in the bathtub at home.

I cannot climb the scree slope. I cannot summit.

For almost 10 years I have been haunted by Fisher Peak and the fact that I came so close, and now have to re-climb a mountain to walk 15 minutes to a summit. I cringe when I hear the words ‘Fisher Peak’. The knot of failure in my stomach throbs with undignified laughter when I think back on how pathetic and ruinous my emotional destruction was. I beat myself up even before the mountain had a chance to beat me. I was finished before I began.

10 years later, things are very different. I have learned long ago how destructive I could be toward myself. I have learned that nothing good ever came to me from beating myself up. I have learned that I am a good and decent person, who may make mistakes, but who knows how to learn well from them. Things are very different, indeed…

In 2010, I will SUMMIT Fisher Peak.

On Sunday, Ali and I hiked the Brothers Creek Loop in North Van. It was AWESOME. Full of spooky silence, creeping mists, tall stately trees, and natural trails. See?


Now, some of you may have noticed my fabulous hiking wear – jeans. This is because I have no “hiking pants” per se. I have had to make do with wearing my corduroy pants up until now, but I kind of forgot to put them in the dryer last night. Ooops. So, jeans it was. Not the greatest thing to wear when one is hiking through a rain forest. Especially if said jeans are a touch too big (thanks Cara!), and keep slipping down as one walks. Hmmm, what to do, what to do… I KNOW!
Closer now…
Thaaaaat’s right – I wound the draw strings of my thermal underwear through the belt loops of my pants, and then tied them together. It may not be pretty, but it worked! My mom always said that being a Girl Guide would come in handy someday!

So, on we hiked. Through ankle-busting roots and toe-snagging snarls, across quick, rocky creeks and over super-sketchy-slippery-sideways bridges:

And after surviving our Death Bridge of Doom crossing, we found a little spot for lunch.

Note the complete lack of snow. We were expecting “snow at higher elevations”, but we saw absolutely none. To be honest, it was a little unsettling. Especially since I had packed my ski pants. So anyway… we finished our lunch, and resumed our hike, talking about important things like the economy (our favourite cartoons), politics (which cereal is the best for staying crunchy in milk), and philosophy (singing the theme song to Polka Dot Door). We chatted about a wide range of subjects, and the forest around us listened intently. The conversation moved on to movies and music, and we (I) began singing “Doe, a Deer…” from the Sound of Music. Which then led to a discussion about the movie. Which brought us to talking about Nazis. Up until this point, we were obviously keeping the forest entertained, but just bring up Nazis, and THIS is what happens:
A tree blocks the ENTIRE trail! It was going along so swimmingly until that point! Now, I can’t be certain that our conversation is what caused this tree to make our lives more difficult, but I have no problem blaming Nazis for random stuff.

Anyway… we gingerly made our way around the tree, deftly avoiding the precarious edge that led to a steep fall onto jagged rocks and into the rushing creek below. No problem. We continued on our way, getting closer to the sound of the waterfall ahead. We started talking about nachos.

We found the waterfall…
Went further into the spooky forest…
And soon enough came to the start of the loop in just over 2.5 hours. The hike was supposed to take 4 hours, but I guess we’re just getting that good at hiking now. Being the Mega Super Pros that we are, we thought about going back up and seeing the Candelabra Fir – a BIG tree with a branch that looks like a candelabra. We thought about it, mulled it over, gave it consideration, and then it was decided that we should end our day at one of our favourite sight-seeing spots, taking in the view that we like best:

Today, Ali and I head to the British Properties to hike the Brothers Creek Loop Trail.

We’ll teach those British how it’s done!

Sometimes, I get completely overwhelmed with the generosity that I have been shown from the residents of this wonderful community. Once word started getting out that I was taking on this adventure to Africa, things have been happening that I would never, ever have expected. Things like this…

I was speaking with a fellow resident of Delta recently about my quest, and she seemed really interested, was keenly asking questions and showing genuine excitement. She said that she may not be able to make a monetary donation, but that maybe she could help in another way. I explained that I appreciated any help she could give me, and was grateful for her offer of… well, whatever it was she was offering. Apparently this woman works for a major airline, and so, she offered me this:

Starting in February, I have a ‘Buddy Pass’ to fly (for free) anywhere in the world that this major airline flies (ok, I pay taxes, but that’s a tiny cost considering what a flight costs these days).

I was stunned. Really just knocked off my feet by this amazing show of generosity. She didn’t have to do this, but she did! But, there’s a catch, right? Yes, there is. The one caveat is this: I have to actually use the pass. Take a weekend in Hong Kong, fly to London for a quick shopping trip, go see a concert in LA, use it for training in some way… Training… Training…

What if I flew to Colorado to do some high-altitude hikes? How about skipping down to South America for an entirely new travel experience? What about Hawaii, Mexico, or Cuba? Should I go visit my friends in Japan? Should I fly to Cranbrook, BC and conquer that bloody Fischer Peak once and for all?! (YES. THAT.)

Wait. Does this airline fly to…

…it does. I can fly to Dar es Salaam. I can fly to Nairobi.

With her generous offer, this wonderful woman cut out one of the most expensive parts of my journey. How do I ever thank someone for a gift such as this? For once, I am speechless, except to say this:

THANK YOU, my beautiful friend for this incredible show of generosity and kindness. I promise to do my best to make you proud, and to show my appreciation for such a truly amazing gift. May what you give come back to you many times over, and may you enjoy the same goodness and charity that you give to others.

With gratitude,
Robyn

I am on a quest. An all-consuming quest. A quest with an important outcome. I… am searching for one of those over-sized novelty cheques so that I can cheesily present it to the Delta Hospice when I have reached my $10,000 mark. Where to find such a thing…

And while I search, I will leave you with:

THE PROTEIN BAR TASTE TEST – Part… 5? Where am I? I’ve eaten so many of these things that I think it’s effecting my brain…

Exhibit E- Sharkies!

Brand: Sharkies Organic Energy Sports Chews
Flavour: Fruit Splash (cherry blackberry tangerine lemon)
Tag Line: “Contains Organic Fruit Juice Concentrate”
First Ingredient: Organic rice syrup

Hee hee! Little lightly coloured squishy, chewy sharks! How fun! Aside from the yellow sharks (“lemon” apparently), they tasted pretty darn good. However, I would not recommend these little critters for people who have delicate dental work or insufficient dental coverage through their employer to reattach crowns. Did the wee sharkies give me energy? I have no idea. I ate an apple right after, and I was distracted by the fact that my toes were really, really cold. Note to self: Thigh-high black and red striped socks with purchased-on-ebay Prada runners do not create a comfortable layer of warmth to the feet.

Exhibit F – Bzzzzzzzz *gag*

Brand: Bumble Bar
Flavour: Chocolate Crisp
Tag Line: “Organic Energy”
First Ingredient: Organic sesame seeds

I’m just going to come right out and say it: this bar was so bad, that it actually made me laugh. I bit into it, chewed a couple of times, then started laughing. I cannot describe the taste any better than: a thin slice of seedy, wussy Baker’s chocolate. The best thing about this bar was the fact that because I was so desperate to get the taste out of my mouth, I was very well hydrated in a matter of minutes. Bumble Bar = Bumble Bad.

This morning I went to the Ladner Legion.

Not exactly a place I’d normally find myself at 8am on a weekday (or any day, actually) but there I was. I was there to speak to the members of the Ladner Business Association (LBA)about my Kili climb, in the hopes that I could count on them to help raise awareness and/or funds to help me reach my goal of $10,000 for Delta Hospice.

They seemed like a nice group of people with good humour and an obvious camaraderie. I felt pretty comfortable there, and was looking forward to getting up and saying my bit. Thankfully I saw a familiar face when I walked in, as Michael from Open Space Yoga (my generous sponsor!) was there and invited me to sit at his table. Just before I was about to go up and speak, Michael asked if I was nervous. Actually, I wasn’t at all. I told Michael that since I’ve done the Vagina Monologues, I can pretty much do anything.

Ok, so maybe some of you don’t know that about me: for five years I acted in and/or co-directed The Vagina Monologues for charity. Each February/March Eve Ensler (the VM Author) allows the play to be performed without the users having to pay the copyright fee (it’s referred to as V-Day). However, the caveat is that all money raised through the production must go to local organizations helping to stop violence against women.

A worthy cause! So, given my penchant for quirky fundraising ideas, I thought it would be an interesting form of annual charity work. And so, since 2003, I have helped raise approximately $75,000 for local women’s charities in the Vancouver and Tri-Cities areas. I am extremely proud of that, and I love the fact that I was able to assist in raising that amount, while having fun at the same time!

So, the bar for my Kilimanjaro climb has been set high in my mind. My goal to raise $10,000 for Hospice will be acheived, that much I know. But hopefully with the help of the LBA, I can exceed that goal, and in the process invite an entire community to join me in having fun while doing so.

And I won’t even make any of you say the word “vagina”.

This morning I am going to attend the Memorial Service of a lovely man who I sat Vigil for recently. This particular gentleman (I’ll call him Gent) was in a palliative state for many days, almost defying all odds. This can be a stressful, painful time for family and friends, as they simply want to see their loved one pass away peacefully.

Gent’s wife was at his bedside day and night, ready to be there for him in his last moments. Days passed. Nights passed. Weeks passed, but still she sat. She talked with him, read to him, listened to music with him; she brushed his hair, held his hand, and kissed his forehead. They had been married for over 40 years.

Gent held on. We began to wonder what it is that could be keeping him from taking that last step through the door. All the children came in to say goodbye, all the grandchildren did, too. Friends came over, the Priest came in and administered last rites, but after many days, Gent was still not ready to leave this world.

It is believed that, to a certain degree, a palliative person can “choose” when to die. I can honestly say that I have seen this on a number of occasions. The thing is, one must remember that it is the dying person’s choice, and no one can rush them. Gent was making that abundantly clear!

His beautiful wife talked with him and told him that he was going to be ok. She told him that she was going to be ok. She told him the children and grandchildren were going to really like having him watch over them forever. She told him that they would never forget about him. She told him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Gent listened. For days.

In my experience, humour at moments like these can be a tricky, tricky thing. One has to be able to gauge the others in the room before cracking a joke that may be considered offensive in such a situation. However, Gent’s wife is a woman of great, dark humour and at one point she stood up, looked at Gent, threw up her hands and said, “This is so like you! You’re so stubborn!” then she ran her fingers through her hair and let out an exasperated growl. And then she laughed.

She and I then sat in Gent’s room and began to wonder aloud why he was taking such a long time to make the decision to die. She had run through every conceivable scenario with him, and now she was finding the humour in the fact that he was hanging on. “He’s in the boarding lounge, but he’s not getting on the plane!” she said. We wondered if the plane was being de-iced.

I had been relatively silent until this time, wondering just how far a humourous comment could go… I took the chance: “I think that maybe the TSA has taken over at the Pearly Gates, and Gent is stuck in the security line. Have we checked his pocket for metals?”

Gent’s wife absolutely lost it, and she and I both started to snort with laughter and were doubled-over with tears in our eyes as the scenarios for why Gent was still with us came pouring out of us. Gent’s wife joked that he was just toying with us all and had “one foot over the line, and was dancing back and forth, playing a game with us”. Gent’s wife knew that Gent was laughing, too, as he had a good sense of humour, and would certainly have appreciated the tension realease.

And then, after we were all but exhausted, we stopped laughing. The room went quiet once again. We listened to Gent’s easy, gentle breathing, and stood there looking at him with our arms around each others’ shoulders. And Gent’s wife said, “You know what I think it is? The earthquake in Haiti has created a pretty big backlog at The Gates, and being that gentleman that he is, he’s simply stepping aside to allow the women and children to go in first”

And that was that. That’s exactly what it was. It just made sense, really.

And so, after hugging one another, I stepped out of the room and left Gent’s wife to sit with him in silence one more time. He stayed with us for many more days after that, but when he finally did make the decision to ‘step into the line’, his wife was by his side, and had gently encouraged him not to be scared. It was a quiet, peaceful moment between two people who shared a great love for one another.

And for me, it was a great honour to have been a small part of such a huge moment.

Godspeed, Gent.

As I was driving to work today, I was treated to the sight of a snow-covered, sun-glowed, soft-hued Mount Baker in the distance. What an impressive mountain! I wonder how tall it is? It can’t be that much smaller than Kilimanjaro, can it? I mean, look at it! It’s HUGE!

*Googles*

Hmmm, says here that Mount Baker is… oh no. Seriously? The thing is HALF the height of Mt. Kilimanjaro? I have to climb TWO Mt. Bakers to equal ONE Mt. Kilimanjaro? Ohhh, geez… I really need to bump up my cardio training.

And now… THE PROTEIN BAR TASTE TEST CONTINUES!

Exhibit D – Elevate Me!

Brand: Elevate Me!
Flavour: Cocoa Coconut Cluster
Tag Line: “The world’s simplest protein & fruit energy bar”
First Ingredient: Whey protein isolate

Well, it certainly has a heck of a lot less ingredients than all the other bars I’ve tried! Wanna’ know what else it has in it? Dates, raisins, apples, cranberries, almonds, coconut, and fair trade cocoa. I feel as though I’ve made a socially conscious decision here! I don’t think I’ve ever felt proud buying something that has the word “cluster” in it. Usually words like “cluster”, (along with “caramel” and “marshmallow”) evoke feelings of shame and betrayal. Tasty, tasty betrayal…

Anyway, back to Elevate Me! It comes in three little squares, which is nice because your brain says, “Oh wonderful! I’ll just eat one”. But you don’t eat just one. You never eat just one. The first bite of one of the squares was really, really good. And then the texture kicked in. It’s a little like chewing on a pear that has been lightly rolled in gravel and then had dried cranberries punched into it. Still, it tasted alright. Not the best thing I’ve ever eaten (that would be pretty much anything from La Belle Auberge), but it’ll do.

Energy-wise? Can’t say it did a whole lot, but then again, I had a nap right after I ate it. So, that was probably counter-productive, eh?