One week down

I wasn't lying when I said I was going to sleep all month! hahaha I haven't been out to run since the 11.35km Tuesday. And honestly, I'm good. I'll get back to the grind tomorrow, promise! I only have two appointments....

Today it's been a week since my family stuck their giant noses up in my business and challenged me to finish my 100km in a month and go the 14 days eating properly (for me).  And I did the first one, I HAVE to finish the second one.

Well, as on every July 5th, it's my dad's birthday.  Which means cake. And ice cream.

Which is fine because, generally, I don't even like cake.  I eat it because you're supposed to eat it on special occasions and people go through the trouble of baking these stupid sugar-sponge-bread-hybrid things and it's just... it's just what you do.

Also....ICING. I LOOOOOOOOVE icing. If you're ever with me when I eat cake you'll notice I tend to eat all the [gross] cake crap first and then swirl my icing around in a lovely little spinny-design on my plate and then om nom nom nom...
So, you'd think that turning my nose up at cake on my dad's birthday wouldn't be all that big of a deal. 



There's this cake. It comes from Heather's Bakery. It is AMAZING. It''s cake, but it's.... it's SO GOOD. 

And don't even get me started on the icing. OH. MY. GOODNESS. THE ICING. 

This is what we get when we have birthdays. We get a Heather's cake. And we gorge ourselves on the incredible edible delight that is Heather's cake. With icing. Which I still eat last.  

Today was Dad's birthday. 

there was a Heather's cake. 


........I didn't have ANY. 

(Wilf knows)

Mom said she'd save a piece and put it in the freezer. I'm suspicious that it won't taste as good after it's defrosted, but YOU GUYS. I DIDN'T EAT THE CAKE. 

Do you know WHY this is such a big deal?? 

In the last 2.5 years every time I try to "reset" my brain and my tummy and get myself back on track (remember, I told you - I don't do this moderation crap. It's all or absolutely NOTHING. I'm too disordered to take it slow or whatever - I just sabotage and sabotage and sabotage myself) and I start my 14-day, uh, goal - just do it for 14 days and you can do anything - I get a few days in, see some progress, and then PARTY TIME! LET US EAT CAKE!! 


I lose a couple of pounds, and say, SWEET! It WORKS! And then eat all the things. With the intention of not ALWAYS eating all the the things....but you know what they say about good intentions... 

So EVEN THOUGH this morning I was FINALLY seeing the significant changes I expect when I'm working hard (I wore a dress to church I couldn't zip up a couple of weeks ago, NO lie!! WOOT! Oh yeah, plus I'm under 200lbs with some wiggle room..... WOOOOOOOOOOTT) ....
I was Hulking-out my arms for my 7yo photographer hahaha

.... I COULDN'T eat the cake. Because that's what I do EVERY time. And this time HAS to be different. I HAVE to do this. I HAVE to know that I can do this. That I am in control. The cake is not. I am. I will eat the cake, but not today. Today I am only half way to my goal. I will not REWARD myself with cake, because I am not a dog, but I will allow myself to ENJOY my piece of cake once I can prove that I can do this. And that the cake won't take over my entire existence and rip apart my brain with self-loathing and hatred as I spend the rest of the summer unable to leave the comfort of air conditioning because I can't fit into any of my summer clothes. 

hahaha I literally cannot financially AFFORD to not to this, because I cannot spare the money for an entire fat-wardrobe for warm weather hahahaha TIME TO GET THIS BOOTY MOVING!! 

So. I'm down 4lbs. And shrinking.  So now we get back to moving. Because I do love to move. 

I have two more birthdays to survive this week (thankfully none of the birthday persons' favourite desserts are my favourite desserts, so I should be okay!) and one road trip, then NEXT Sunday I can cheat for a meal (and eat CAKE), and I'm back in the game!! 

Halfway there.... only 7 days to go! 

I've got this :-D 

This month, I'm sleeping.

Yesterday was the last day of June. And at the start of yesterday I was 11.35km away from having run a full 100km in the month.

I would have been over the 100 mark easily if I hadn't let my brain take over all sense and quit when I had my little pre-intervention hiccup..... part of the intervention was for my wonderful people to point out how stupidly CLOSE I was to making that mark, and I was basically ORDERED to finish it. (Thanks, Mom!)

Fun story, though. Intervention happened Sunday night.  I had over 17kms to go and two days.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate running??

And that I "only" ran 6km with the stroller up and down and over all the hills on Monday??

Yup. 11.35 left. And one day to do it in.
I was pretty sure that it was going to be "easier" to just go out and git r' done than to try to get out TWICE in one day - kids, work, and honestly, the pain of getting READY to go...twice? No thanks.  So...I went out and...just kinda....ran.... 

I ran forever. Ohmigosh. I don't know how you people do these crazy races that take 2-4 hours or whatever. Or ultra-marathoners? YOU'RE ALL NUTS! hahaha 

At about the halfway mark I was done. And SO FAR AWAY FROM MY CAR. I stopped my GPS and just....chillaxed for a minute. Walked very slowly. Caught my breath. Texted my inner struggle to my hubs. Rebutted the bad thoughts to my hubs. (Sometimes, my texting people, is my thinking "out loud" hahaha - SORRY, friends!!) Plugged back in, and....

ran another 5.5km. 

I honestly don't know how I did that. 

It was slow. And literally painful. But I did it. And I DID IT. I ran 100km in June!! 

The drive home was only about 5-10 minutes and my whole body was so seized up when I stopped the car I could barely get out hahahaha Oh man! I don't plan on doing anything that extreme or stupid again any time soon - if we go for another 100 goal it will be much better planned and spread out! 

And THEN, the best. Frig. So yesterday I tried to kill myself running.  And TODAY...

my baby brother moved. 

Which meant I spent....ALL day....moving...heavy things....stairs.... holy craptacular the stairs.... hip hurts.... 

...where's my foam roller?? 

The new house is LOVELY and SO much better than the gross dingy basement apartment they were living in and we were just THRILLED to have been able to be of assistance, and to get to be nosey and see the new digs!! 


I think I'm going to work tomorrow and sit around on my butt. And that's it. No extra exercise. I need a recovery day!!  Then, honestly, I'm excited, because I'm running a couple of adventure races (or obstacle races or whatever they're called) coming up and I need to get back to alternating my metabolic HIIT & strength training with the running. So, you know, my triceps are still existent when I try to go over the mud-soaked monkey bars... (Why do we think these events are fun??) 

Oh. And, of course. I'M HUNGRY! But haven't caved yet... Fingers crossed. 

Tomorrow is the last weigh-in for a "OneDerland" challenge I'm in - we'll see if I've made it back.... oy vey. 
I think I'm just going to sleep through July..... ;-) 

Day 1: bacon & eggs.

I have a wicked headache tonight and no energy to get up and get my peppermint oil to kick it to the curb (I'm THAT lazy, you guys) so this post is going to SUCK, but, here I am so.... #winning.

(Do people hashtag in blog posts? Did I just become THAT person? I'm a little embarrassed...)

But today, I woke up, and didn't go running.  Mini Miss follows after her elder sister and has WICKED night terrors, aaaaand when she has one, well, that's that. There goes any and all chances of sleep for the night.

So no, I didn't get up and run.

But I got up, and had a delicious, non-vegan, non-vegetarian, FABOOSH meal of pemeal bacon (from the butcher, guys. The GOOD stuff - it was soooooooooo tender and soooooooooo yummy) and scrambled eggs, with cut up orange and apple... my mommy and daddy spoiled me this Monday morning. And said "did you get up and go running?"

Hahahaha...... no. I did not. Boo.

Then, off to work. Massage massage massage. Fix everyone make them all feel better, massage massage. Yay.

Home. Break. No massage for a bit. Break. Run time!! Yay!! (I hate running).

Crap, I have the kid. The little one. Hmmm.....


Me: "Let's go for a run!"
Mini Miss: "NO!"


We're doing it anyway!

Stroller. "Baby." (Man, she's HEAVY!) Outside. RUN. Frigging hills. I HATE hills. And this baby is NOT a baby anymore. I'm TIRED. Walk up the hills. Too hard. RUN down the hills. And between the hills....

Hey, I just did 5K with hills and a stroller 4mins faster than last year's hills-with-stroller race at the Zoo. Cool.

Finish 6K.


Work. More massage.

Home. Dinner. Healthy dinner. Mimi is on a mission to help me with my food.

......dinner was.......kinda'.....gross..... O:-) and I'm SO HUNGRY.

Mr. Man. Hi! Popcorn. Yay. Still so hungry...... stupid food addiction.

Headache winning. Baby sleeping. My turn now.

Day 2 tomorrow.....

My family accidentally staged an intervention...

Wow. So, it's been a year and a half since I was on here. Fun stuff.

I always think okay, this time I'm back, and I've got this, and I'm going to do it....buuuuut....who knows?

But I wanted to tell you about tonight, and what happened. And why it happened.

So, almost 2.5 years ago I gave birth to our perfect little Mini Miss. And she's perfect. And we love her. (And she's not really perfect - sometimes I think she's Satan. But I love her, so it's all good. [Please sleep tonight you devil child!!])

When I was pregnant with her, despite concerted efforts to watch what I ate and to exercise (I stayed attending regular kickboxing classes at the dojo until I was 30 weeks pregnant and performing roundhouse kicks literally made me pee my pants EVERY. SINGLE. KICK.) I ballooned to 60lbs heavier than pre-pregnancy. (Funny, too, because I "only" gained 50lbs with the Little Miss, for which pregnancy I sat around on my expanda-butt and ate ALL THE THINGS.... so.... go figure. The body does what the body's gonna' do!!)

Then, when I wasn't pregnant with her anymore I lost....maybe about 20 of those 60 lbs.

And I've been fighting tooth-and-nail to get the other 40 off ever since.

And it's driving me CRAZY.

Well, actually, technically, I was crazy before, but this crazy has been heading into the cray-cray zone.... Sigh.

In 2015 so far I've learned a lot about myself - I PROBABLY have PCOS, which is why I have the apparently insulin resistance I would have spoken about earlier - I CANNOT eat carbs. Of any kind. Just....can' it - and why I can't lose weight. AND why there's 5 1/2 years between my kids (the fact I have kids is apparently somewhat of a miracle. Fun stuff).

I've also learned that I do not adjust well to...being thrown off course. hahaha I DO NOT like my plans to change, and I do not adapt well to unsuspected occurrences. Or whatever. I just don't do that crap well.

AND, I downloaded the Nike+ training app for running, and for the first time since my post-Little-Miss pregnancy when I was running regularly, started really running again.  My body LOVES running; I do not (this is not news).

Earlier this year I had a nasty bout of strep throat and literally  could not eat or drink for 3 days straight. I FINALLY got the number on the scale below 200lbs. But as soon as I was able to eat again I jumped back up to 'normal.'

Then, two weeks ago I tasted the sweet sweet victory of having FINALLY scraped my way back into OneDerland with a weigh-in under 200lbs. It was surprising and amazing, and felt GREAT. obviously I had to sabotage myself. And eat. And eat. And eat.

I started this great intermediate 10KM training program with my Nike+ app on my phone, and was LOVING it - I HATE running, but I LOVE crushing distances and being #1 on my friends list for distance run this month. SHE ran a half marathon? Well, whoopee, I've run 50km more than her so BOO-FREAKING-YAH!

Problem is...the app schedules EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. How far you run, what type of run you do, and you check it off as you go.

So, at the end of week 3, when I'm scheduled to do my first 9.7km run on a Saturday that happens to also see me working with 3 patients, dealing with a family crisis, celebrating Father's Day, parenting my beautiful (devil) children, and all the other Saturday comings and goings.....


A regular human being would just chalk it up to a busy day and adjust the training schedule.

But I can't DO that. The app SAYS that on Saturday I run 9.7km. On Sunday I rest. On Monday I run 6, Tuesday 6.4, Wednesday......... I CAN'T HAVE MISSED A RUN.

So, obviously, I've failed. I can't do it. It's only 8 weeks, I don't even need a full hour every day, and I can't even do it. I suck. I fail. I lose. No 10kms for me.

So I stop running.

And I eat. And EAT. AND EAT.

Croissants. Bowties (I LOOOOOVE farfalle! What is it about that shape of pasta that makes it so delectable?) Pizza. French Toast. TOAST (gross - why do we eat that?) Subway sandwiches.  Oh yeah, AND MORE CARBS.

I don't even want to know what next weigh in says.

My brother is getting married in 6 weeks.

We are moving into our new house in 8 weeks.

In 9 weeks I'm running Mud Hero.

In 11 weeks I'm running WipeOut.

Frig. I NEED to be under 200lbs. I CANNOT be 200lbs. I can't. My joints can't TAKE being this heavy.

So tonight, my parents, supported by my hubs (boo ganging up on me!! hahaha) corner me and ask about my running. Because I was running. Lots. For 3 weeks. And then it all stopped. ALL stopped.

Red, get off your ass and get running!! Your body NEEDS it. Do SOMETHING.

And I talk. About carbs. About how I can't do it. I keep trying and I keep failing. And I keep eating everything.

So now I have to run. And no one is eating carbs. And that's not fair to anyone. That's horrid that no one can eat what they want because I have no self-control.

But I CAN'T moderate my food. I can't do it. I've proven, over the last 2 years. I can't.  It's all or nothing, there's no in-between. I can't wean off. I can't just eat a little bit. I can't. I get lost, I don't even know I'm doing it. Or I do know, and I loathe myself with every single bite. But I keep shoving it down as fast as I can. So no one will see. So I don't get caught. Because I'm the only one who cares...

Dad pipes up and says "I would not eat carbs for 14 days to get your brother to stop smoking." (My brother did stop smoking, a little while ago now, too - congrats, bro!!)

My food is an addiction. Like my brother's smoking. And it's that bad that my dad will do this to help me.

And if we do this, if we do this together, I can do this. I've done it before. I've done it once. My body needs this. I need this. I need this success. I don't need a crash diet. I need to remind myself that I am in control. That I am the boss of me. That I am not controlled by my cravings or my mood, or even by what food I'm surrounded with. No one can make me eat a bun with my dinner. No one can make me cave and eat noodles.

And I will run. And I will train. And I will get faster, and stronger. And I will have fun. Because running these races, with my friends, and with my family? That's going to be fun.

I hate running. But I can do it. And I will learn to love it again. My body loves it.  I can do this.

14 days.

14 days.

14 days.

Here we go....

The Struggle

I haven't written in a while, and I'll confess I feel bad about it. Just, the things I've had to say lately I haven't felt were exactly the best subject for this blog. But I WANT to be blogging about them.

So...I may start a new one. Specific to some topics I'm dying to write about and cover; I don't blog for the accolades or attention, but because of the incredible catharsis I get from writing. And if in the process I'm able to reach a person or two who may be having some similar struggles, I'm okay with that. 

I believe firmly that life is hard because the whole point is to progress and get better. And we experience what we do so we can learn and grow, and in turn, help those we bump into go through their cruddy stuff, too. If I can't learn and grow and try to make the world just a teeny bit better, then what the heck is the point? 

So glad to have the convictions I do. 

Once I'm up and running and writing away...wherever, I'll be sure to share the link to the new-subject-blog in case anyone is interested. 

Thanks for keeping tabs on me when you do. 


Update: So...I did it right now. I'm crazy, I know. Ask anyone - when I get an idea that's it that's all until I can get the idea into fruition. I'm kind of a wee bit impulsive like that!

Here's the link, and make sure to start at the beginning, if you do take a gander: 

Why I'm running Grapes of Wrath

Some of my Facebook friends and family already know I've signed up to do a 5k obstacle course race at the beginning of July.

I'm nervous, but I'm always nervous when I do new things, so that's nothing to get knotted up about.  And I'm training.  Hard.  I'm getting to kickboxing 2-3 times per week PLUS an extra training sesison Saturday mornings including a run and usually a circuit, JUST to prep us for the race.  Obviously people train way harder than I am, but just over three months ago I was ginormously preggers with my Mini Miss and I'm studying for a giant test. So yeah. I'm training pretty hard.

So here's how it came about:

I was at the dojo for kickboxing, and Sensei announced that he was running the Grapes of Wrath and "we" were putting a team together so DO IT.  And I thought...I could do that.

So I signed up.

It's an epic tale, isn't it?

Here's why I'm really doing it, though.

The Grapes of Wrath race is put on by the Canadian Cancer Society to garner support for their efforts in the battle against cancer.  All cancers.  Brain cancer, breast cancer, prostate cancer, skin cancer, fingernail cancer... if it's cancer, they want it gone.

You may recall I recently lost an acquaintance to her cancer battle. It was a heart-wrenching experience watching her battle.  And LOSE.  I did not expect that.  And I haven't written before, but I have a young, extended "family" member who spent the last year battling the nastiest brain tumour... watching her go from a vibrant, active, honestly annoyingly upbeat little girl into a wheelchair-bound sickly specimen has not been easy, ESPECIALLY for our dear friends who love her so so so much.

But really, I'm self-centred enough that these two amazing examples wouldn't be enough on their own, for me. When things come up that are unfortunate but don't really affect us Mr Man and I have a habit of shrugging and muttering "S-E-P" to each other - someone else's problem. It's our way of laughing off negativity and keeping ourselves from overextending, but now, reflecting on the horrors of illness it feels heartless and embarrassing. And naive. It may be SEP today, but maybe not tomorrow.

When my friend was still with us for a time we thought she had completely beat her cancer. Or at least, I did. She was finished treatment, had a mastectomy, grew her hair back, and resumed her life as the vivacious, fabulous woman she had always been. But she spent a bit more time raising awareness about cancer, wearing daffodils, pink ribbons,  and leading cancer-fighting groups in exercise to try and help ward off the negativity in our bodies that mutates and turns on us. 

During that period last year some of her sons competed in the Tough Mudder obstacle race. I was pregnant and jealous of their ability to even attempt to compete in such a physically demanding event, and she was on the rehabilitative road back to being able to train her body hard. We looked at each other and said "next year." Next year we were going to work our bodies hard, train like crazy, and run the Tough Mudder.

She died a week before Mini Mss was born. We weren't able to train. We will never run the Tough Mudder together. 

So now that I can I feel like I HAVE to. The Grapes of Wrath is no Tough Mudder, but it has a purpose. It's a race to raise money for the Canadian Cancer Society, to beat cancer. Because cancer sucks. And because my friend can't run it I have to. 

I run this race for her. 

My understanding is that while the Canadian Cancer Society wants to eradicate cancer, the donations from the Grapes of Wrath don't go directly to cancer research, but to another amazing program: Wheels of Hope. If you know someone with cancer you may know he or she can't just go to the local hospital, necessarily, to get the appropriate treatments to save/extend/better his or her life. Chemotherapy isn't a run-of-the-mill hospital thing, necessarily. Here I've watched the mother of a little girl with a brain tumour post on Facebook almost weekly, for a year, looking for anyone with a kind heart, a car, and some spare time, to drive to another city to get her daughter to her appointments for her treatment. 

Well, the Candian Cancer Society has a program for just such a situation. I don't know how it works, I don't know if this mom was ever able to take advantage of it, but I DO know from watching this family, that there is definitely a need. A need for rides! Of all things, I would never ever EVER think of that. And the Grapes of Wrath is to fund the program that provides rides, so these darling people can get to their treatments. 

And so, I'm running for her, too. Because while I haven't been able to provide a ride directly, I can do this so maybe someone else can.

A couple of you wonderful people have already donated to sponsor my run. I didn't set my goal very high because I know there are SO many amazing, wonderful causes out there worthy of your donations. And most of my family and acquaintances already donate large sums through ecclesiastical organizations that are then used in all sorts of wonderful areas to enrich so many in incredible humanitarian ways. 

But if you haven't, and you can, please donate just a little bit. Help someone get the treatment he or she needs. Help me remember my friend and make as big an impact for good as I can while I do it. Help the Canadian Cancer Society run its programs and maybe exceed its fundraising goals so that extra funds can be channelled directly into ending this horrible illness' hold on humanity. 

And regardless of whether or not you can donate, take two seconds to share this post around and help me spread the word. Help us make a difference. Please. 

You can donate directly online here

Thanks so much for reading, and for the support, always. 

See you at the finish line!

Friday Schmiday

It's a grey day outside today. Which is great for my gardens.

But I'm feeling today about the same as the weather looks. Just... blech.

Which is great, because Little Miss has a day off school, so I should be tapping into my super-mommy instead of trying not to keel over and die... Sigh.  Irony, right?

Glad I ended up at kickboxing last night, though, instead of planning to go tonight.  I can take the night off and not feel guilty!

I don't normally go on Thursdays, just sometimes. But while waiting for Little Miss to finish her jiu jitsu class yesterday (my baby girl is a red belt! She pulled this thing on my arm the other day...kid's got skillz!) Sensei sort of TOLD me I was going to the adult jiu jitsu class....

Grading for her red belt a few months ago

Getting ready to show off her skillz to Sensei and see if she passes to the next belt level!

Watching the other graders
(we're not as cute in the adult classes as the kiddos are) I ended up going to my first ever jiu jitsu class last night.

It was...interesting.  I think if I can check my stinking anxiety I might actually really enjoy it.  Last night Sensei taught me and two other noobs some basic self-defense and take downs (I have no idea terminology in this uh, "sport", is it a sport or a martial art or both or...???) which was kind of cool.. the challenge then is practicing it often enough that it's automatic and actually useable in the case of an attack by Creepy Bob or whatever.  But it's pretty stinking awesome.  And crazy...Little Miss already knows this stuff! She's staying in jiu jitsu FOREVER! hahaha

Since it was an instructional evening it wasn't overly taxing, physically (my poor brain was spinning like mad...) so I called Mr. Man and decided to stay for kickboxing, too, so I didn't have to go back out again tonight.

Which means...I get to totally CRASH and do NOTHING tonight.

Except maybe some work.  And some studying.  And some laundry. And dishes. And take care of the baby. And...and....and...........


Pray that I'm up for the incredibly busy day we have scheduled for tomorrow - training in the morning, followed by viewing a couple of houses (we're starting the hunting-for-a-new-house process, though we're probably about a year away from actually getting it done), followed by Little Miss going to fight class, followed by Niagara Falls COMIC-CON to meet ADAM FREAKING WEST!! THE man who first started my adoration of the Caped Crusader when I was little. SO EXCITED!!

Well, as excited as I can be in this haze of ick that's hovering over me right now.... fingers crossed I can rally.

Check back - hopefully we're lucky enough to snap a family picture or two at ComicCon....

And yes, in case you didn't already know, I'm a huge nerd. ;-)