Sometimes It's Just Easier To Be The Asshole.

Have you ever been in a place where you feel no matter which direction you turn, you'll run into something, or find a dead end?

Sometimes that place is more philosophical than physical. Less a meeting of minds than a butting of heads. Whatever the explanation, there is no fighting past the perception. After all, perception is reality.

Something as benign as a single word can explode into a million shards of accusation and intolerance. There is no bomb squad for this type of incendiary device. The mere mention causes such chaos and uproar that evasion is the only logical strategy. Like a mine field; so much easier avoided entirely than any attempt at navigation, no matter how careful. Regardless how meticulously planned the route, it takes but a mere shiver in the wrong direction to loose the inevitable fulmination of judgement and disapproval.

The path of least resistance is the sane choice. Smile and wave, boys.

I am SPARTAN!!

I hate running. Not just dislike, but actually *hate* it. So of course, the natural course of events for a running-hater like me is to enter a mud obstacle race. Naturally.

I have been lucky enough in my life to belong to the most amazing group of women - the Calgary Rage. 4 of my Rage family members and I spent our morning slogging our way through five kilometers of hills, dust, mud, dragging cinder blocks, climbing walls, crawling under barbed wire and jumping over fire.

It may have been the most fun I've had so far in my life. And yes, there was running (or old lady shuffling as I more accurately describe my gait...)

Every obstacle was a mental and physical test. We climbed, crawled, grunted and swore our way through, helping each other (and total strangers!) conquer each challenge, or sweat out the 30 burpees penalty.

My proudest moment (besides actually finishing the race!) was scaling the 8 foot wall on the first try. THE FIRST TRY.  Yes. I am extremely proud of that.

I couldn't have done any of this without my teammates. Esther, Amanda, Ferne and Whitney stuck with me through the whole ordeal. We hoisted each other over walls and cheered each other up and down hills with sandbags on our shoulders.  We shared burpees to get each other through. And in the end, we finished together. As a team.

I might even do it again.

From Helmet & Cleats to Bikini & Boots

Another birthday has come and gone, and I can confidently say that I have earned every one of my 43 years and wear them proudly. I'll never be this young again, and I'm taking advantage of every opportunity for adventure that comes my way. 

As Fall 2012 crept into Spring 2013, I found myself spending more and more time training and conditioning for my return to play with the Calgary Rage. Taylor and the guys at King Football chased and cheered me on to a season of firsts - not the least of which were my first season running with no knee brace, and my first interception!

Football, both the sport and the women with whom I play it, has made me courageous in ways I could never imagine. The fact that I am willing to drag my sorry ass out to 6 hours of practice a week during the season surprises no one more than me, but I love what it does for me! I'm stronger, both physically and mentally. I think nothing of running at another player with the sole purpose of knocking her on her ass. My courage hasn't ended there, though.


This past weekend I took part in a fundraiser for Special Olympics. So, what's the big deal, you might ask? This was no ordinary fundraiser. Bikini Espy required its participants to show up downtown on a Saturday morning, wearing nothing but a bikini and cowboy boots. Yes, you read that right. I got up at the crack of stupid and joined 99 other women out on a city street in a bikini. In exchange for my $100 registration, and the funds generously donated to Special Olympics by my friends, I got to hang out with some of the craziest women around. There were all shapes, sizes and ages of women there. Each of us danced, clapped and yahoo'd our morning away while we waited to be styled in custom western gear by the fantastic staff at Espy Experience.

I showed up that morning in my bikini and boots, shivering and giggling with the other women in line. I expected to leave with my custom outfit and maybe a few extra little items. What I really got was a strengthened confidence in myself, and a new appreciation for how much fun life can be if you really let it. Peel off a layer or two, figuratively speaking, and find out what's really under there - you might be a lot more fun than you remember!




Special thanks to Mike Bailey for the photos, and Cara Fullerton & Camilla Di Giuseppe for the celebrity shot ;)

Boundaries

What is it about something that draws you back to it time and again, even when you know it's in your best interest to walk away? The rational part of your brain rhymes off myriad reasons to keep moving forward, but the prehistoric, instinctual, lizard part of your brain pushes you back until you're tip toeing the line between sanity & mania. There's something exhilarating about bumping up against the edge of propriety, all the while looking over your shoulder just to be sure no one's watching. Or maybe you're checking in the hopes that someone is watching, and will give you that sly wink and shuffle along as though nothing happened. How do you push the envelope?