I've never been one to make New Year's resolutions - I don't need a page on a calendar to tell me when I should challenge myself or make changes in my life. I'm pretty stubborn that way.
Last year a friend of mine took part in a fund raising event that left me gobsmacked and jealous - she rappelled down the side of a 30 storey building in the Calgary Easter Seals Drop Zone. I've decided that this is a challenge I wish to conquer.
The event itself takes place on September 4, 2014 so I have quite some time to think about what I will be doing. In the mean time, I must raise at least $1500 if I am to be allowed to take part.
(This is the part of the infomercial where the inspirational music kicks in, and you imagine me heroically gliding down a rope on the side of a 300 foot building, hair billowing in the breeze...)
(It will likely be more like me tumbling clumbsily down a wall, screaming at the top of my lungs...)
In either case... wouldn't you love to see that? I am not above begging for your support. Easter Seals Alberta provides a great deal of support for Albertans with disabilities. It's a great organization which could use your financial support, no matter how small the amount.
Please consider making a donation on my sponsorship page and help make a Newfie fly!!
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Saturday, August 31, 2013
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.
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.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
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.
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.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
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 ;)
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 ;)
Friday, February 15, 2013
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?
Monday, December 24, 2012
Places of Worship
There are so many ways people choose to share a common set of beliefs; church being likely the most obvious among them. It seems that lately I have found myself in the company of quite a few friends who are either aetheist or agnostic; that is, either they believe there is no god, or they think there may be a god or gods, but they don't believe in him/her/them.
Regardless of which camp I fall into, I've learned a great deal from having such a diverse group of friends. People are passionate about their beliefs and will argue and defend them tirelessly to any detractors.
The most amazing discovery I have made is this - I love the debate. I enjoy a well thought out argument and relish the chance to match wits with anyone who sees it as a healthy intellectual exercise, and not a personal attack. I don't expect to change anyone's mind; nor do I think anyone will sway my beliefs one way or another. What I love is hearing people passionately defend their belief systems and showing me their rationale for believing what they do. What I find annoying is those who follow on blind faith alone.
The past year has taught me something very interesting about myself. While I am not a "church goer" in the traditional sense, I am far from lacking fellowship. My ever-growing circle of friends is more supportive and fulfilling than I could ever imagine an "organized" group to be. They are my family as much or more than any blood relative could ever be.
2012 has given me so much, and I hope I have, in return, given back at least a little. Find your people, whomever they are. Enjoy each other, and allow those around you the same freedom, in whatever form that takes.
Regardless of which camp I fall into, I've learned a great deal from having such a diverse group of friends. People are passionate about their beliefs and will argue and defend them tirelessly to any detractors.
The most amazing discovery I have made is this - I love the debate. I enjoy a well thought out argument and relish the chance to match wits with anyone who sees it as a healthy intellectual exercise, and not a personal attack. I don't expect to change anyone's mind; nor do I think anyone will sway my beliefs one way or another. What I love is hearing people passionately defend their belief systems and showing me their rationale for believing what they do. What I find annoying is those who follow on blind faith alone.
The past year has taught me something very interesting about myself. While I am not a "church goer" in the traditional sense, I am far from lacking fellowship. My ever-growing circle of friends is more supportive and fulfilling than I could ever imagine an "organized" group to be. They are my family as much or more than any blood relative could ever be.
2012 has given me so much, and I hope I have, in return, given back at least a little. Find your people, whomever they are. Enjoy each other, and allow those around you the same freedom, in whatever form that takes.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Absentee
I realize I've been pretty quiet here of late. Life is a busy thing. Marriage, kids, friends, work... all kinds of things to soak up one's time and energy. I've been so busy doing, I've had no time to sit back, think, and write.
Last weekend was the close of another chapter for me. Season 2 of my foray into women's tackle football ended with a less than satisfying record of wins and losses, but a definite feeling of personal accomplishment. After an extremely gratifying round of off season training with the amazing guys at King Football, I finally felt like less of a couch potato and more like (dare I say it?) an athlete. Now I know that some of you reading this are likely rolling on the floor in fits of laughter at the thought of me calling myself the "a" word, and to you I say hear me out.
I have never been athletic. I was the uncoordinated, bookish one. I've always enjoyed watching sports, but never felt confident or competent enough to play. I spent the first 41 years of my life that way. I was always a little envious of people who could jump into a sport and manage to pull off a relatively decent level of performance with seemingly little effort. Last year I finally took the plunge and started playing football.
It hasn't been easy; my body protested loudly. Four decades of inactivity will do that. And to add insult to injury were the naysayers and cynics. "You're too old." "You have a husband and kids; you shouldn't be wasting your time on football when you should be spending time with your family." "Women's football is a joke." "Your knees hurt? Maybe you should quit. Your body is trying to tell you something." "Have you lost your mind? Are you having a midlife crisis?"
Not one of these people ever asked me how I feel when I play. Or what it's done for my mental and physical well being. It's been a fight to try to rationalize with people why I'm doing this, but after handing in my equipment for another year, I've discovered that it doesn't matter. I love this game. As corny and cliche as it sounds, there's a whole other me when I put on that gear and get on the field. There's no way I can explain that to anyone outside my head, but when I talk to other women who do what I do, it's like a shared secret. We belong to an exclusive group of people who do what they love in spite of, and sometimes because of what their families and friends might think.
If you're one of those people who have tried to give me three hundred and two reasons why I have no business playing tackle football (and you know who you are), I say this - you can take your patronizing "girl power" platitudes, condescending comments and attempted guilt trips and stick 'em wherever it pleases you. What pleases me is football, and I'm going to play.
Last weekend was the close of another chapter for me. Season 2 of my foray into women's tackle football ended with a less than satisfying record of wins and losses, but a definite feeling of personal accomplishment. After an extremely gratifying round of off season training with the amazing guys at King Football, I finally felt like less of a couch potato and more like (dare I say it?) an athlete. Now I know that some of you reading this are likely rolling on the floor in fits of laughter at the thought of me calling myself the "a" word, and to you I say hear me out.
I have never been athletic. I was the uncoordinated, bookish one. I've always enjoyed watching sports, but never felt confident or competent enough to play. I spent the first 41 years of my life that way. I was always a little envious of people who could jump into a sport and manage to pull off a relatively decent level of performance with seemingly little effort. Last year I finally took the plunge and started playing football.
It hasn't been easy; my body protested loudly. Four decades of inactivity will do that. And to add insult to injury were the naysayers and cynics. "You're too old." "You have a husband and kids; you shouldn't be wasting your time on football when you should be spending time with your family." "Women's football is a joke." "Your knees hurt? Maybe you should quit. Your body is trying to tell you something." "Have you lost your mind? Are you having a midlife crisis?"
Not one of these people ever asked me how I feel when I play. Or what it's done for my mental and physical well being. It's been a fight to try to rationalize with people why I'm doing this, but after handing in my equipment for another year, I've discovered that it doesn't matter. I love this game. As corny and cliche as it sounds, there's a whole other me when I put on that gear and get on the field. There's no way I can explain that to anyone outside my head, but when I talk to other women who do what I do, it's like a shared secret. We belong to an exclusive group of people who do what they love in spite of, and sometimes because of what their families and friends might think.
If you're one of those people who have tried to give me three hundred and two reasons why I have no business playing tackle football (and you know who you are), I say this - you can take your patronizing "girl power" platitudes, condescending comments and attempted guilt trips and stick 'em wherever it pleases you. What pleases me is football, and I'm going to play.
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