Coughing my way through dead birds...

This past week has been a bit of a bust. Unfortunately, Seb had to postpone my training session from last Monday and we rescheduled to later in the week. By the time Thursday rolled around, it was official. I was sick.

I still am.
And I hate it.

Some people say that if your cold is contained above your shoulders, that you can continue to workout. If it moves into your chest, you're screwed. Normally I follow that 'rule', but this time I'm just too tired to do much of anything. And it's not just because I'm sick.

The past few weeks at work have been pretty hectic. When people ask me what I do for a living, I tell them that I deal with dead birds. I'm neither a veterinarian, nor an animal rights activist. I'm a student services professional -- and I have the pleasure of dealing with dead birds.

Allow me to explain.

A colleague of mine once made the analogy of the work that we do in problem solving complex situations for university student being similar to that moment when the cat comes in the house, with a dead bird hanging out of its mouth. It comes to your feet, drops the bird (often still breathing, so not technically dead), and looks up at you as if to say:

"You're special. I like you. You're the only one who has what it takes to deal with this. Please. (Meow)"

And then the cat walks away, leaving you to clean up the mess -- to decide whether or not to resuscitate or put the bird out of its misery. It's a choice. And a powerful one. And a decision not to be taken lightly.

The first three weeks back to school have consisted of a lot of choices, and a few tough decisions. I've been dealing with some complex situations, and a lot of questions -- a lot of issues that to some people are dead birds to be dealt with. And sometimes those issues, to me, are not quite dead yet. I've had to so some workplace CPR. I've had to do some clean up. And in some ways, at times, it feels like I'm the only one who can deal with it. Yes, I feel fulfilled, and busy... but I also feel tired.

Being a dead-bird expert is exhausting.

And I think that's where the cold kicked in. I haven't been training a lot. I haven't been eating poorly. I haven't been eating well. I haven't had the best sleeps. So my system is weak. It's tired. It's vulnerable. I wasn't prepared for the back to school season to be this busy, or this hectic.

My system is a bit of dead bird.
And I'm taking some time to bring it back to life.

I thought that running the Scotiabank 5k on Sunday would help. This was the day that I was supposed to run my half marathon -- but I had decided after I got back from my bike rally that I didn't have sufficient time to properly and safely train. So, I withdrew from the half marathon, and ran the 5k instead.

Normally, running 5-km is not really a big deal. It is however, when you're on your race pace (of 4:50/km) and have to stop at kilometer #2 to spend about 3 minutes coughing and blowing your nose. My sinuses chose kilometer #2 to empty themselves.

It wasn't pretty.
It was kind of disgusting.
I'm glad I brought tissues -- I'm 'that' kind of a runner.

But I kept running. I finished the race in just about 30 minutes. I was aiming for 25 minutes, and started with a pace that would have allowed me to finish just under that. But the cold and sinus infection didn't help. I was disappointed by my performance, and even as I crossed the finish line with the marathoners, I was jealous. I was a bit remiss. There was a part of me that wished I had taken the time to train for the half marathon -- and I would have been able to experience that high, the elation of the finish.

Maybe that would have made me feel better. But I don't think it would have. I would have likely felt worse. Because I likely wouldn't have finished a half-marathon -- with my head full of snot, and my body too tired to function.

So even though I have added another finisher's medal to my collection, I sit here tonight, sniffling, sneezing, blowing my nose, putting lotion on my nostrils, and feeling like I'm swallowing glass. Apparently, I'm 'resting'. There's a big part of me that realizes that the rest is necessary. And there's another part of me that is pissed off that I had to miss my second workout with Seb in as many weeks.

I miss training.

I miss towelling off the sweat from a crazy set of plyometrics, instead of towelling off because I'm running a fever.

I miss the spike in energy that follows a training session... instead of hoping that my morning coffee gives me the spike I need to last through the day.

I miss feeling exhausted from a workout, instead of feeling fatigued from illness.


I miss it.
But I'll be back.

Just like the dead birds I bring back to life.

Chirp chirp.

Kia kaha,
Stay strong.

Big time.

Bless me bloggers, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last blog post... And this is what I've been up to...

Now that I've got that flashback to Catholicism out of my way... I can get on with this post. LOL. Indeed, it has been three months since my last posting. And what an amazing three months it has been.

Why amazing? Well, two weeks ago, I started back into my regular training routine with Sebastien. Indeed, we trained together over the course of the summer as I geared up and prepared for my 600km bike ride. But over that period of time, we focused on building my cardiovascular and muscular endurance for the intensity of cycling from Toronto to Montreal. This meant that I had to train in a very different way than I was used to -- we cut out a lot of the intense weightlifting, and minimized the high intensity work I was doing, to ensure that I didn't get injured. Without a doubt, all of the training I had done up until this past summer had gotten me well prepared physically and emotionally for the ride, but my training and my diet had to be fairly specific and tailored for distance cycling as a very particular type of activity.

All of this also meant that in some ways, I was going to have to prepare myself for the reality that my body weight would change... in other words, that I would gain back some of those dreaded pounds that I worked so hard to take off.

And I did.
Big time.

Two weeks ago, I stepped back onto the scale for the first time in over three months. And I wasn't impressed with what I saw. I didn't just gain back a few pounds... I gained back about 30 of them. Thirty pounds in three months. Not bad... sure, not bad if you're losing. But gaining? Seriously? Again?

But what was intriguing in that split second moment in time, when I stepped off the scale, I looked at the number, looked at Sebastien (who was likely prepared for me to punch the wall), and said...

"I just had the best summer of my life. I enjoyed every single one of those pounds."

And I did.
Big time.

Over the course of three months, I spent tonnes of time outside -- running, cycling, and walking the dog. I also spent fantastic evenings and afternoons sitting on patios, drinking good wine, eating food that was even better than the wine, and dancing my ass off. I rode my bike over six days to Montreal for an amazing cause, and met incredible new friends along the way.

I relaxed.
I had fun.
I lived.

And in the words of my trainer...
I chilled the F*$@ out.

So, chilling out meant that I put on a few pounds. It's not a huge deal. It really isn't. Sure, my clothes are a bit tighter (which I initially blamed on the dry-cleaner for shrinking my shirts). Certainly, I feel a bit heavier. But mentally, I'm confident. I'm strong. I know how I got to this place, and I know how to get out of it.

How did I get to this place? People have asked me: How, when you ride your bike to Montreal, do you still gain weight? Essentially, in preparing for my ride, I did nothing but cycle for endurance. I rode my bike outside. I did indoor spin classes. I ran... every once in a while. I hardly lifted a weight (one of the magic secrets to weight loss). And while I ate well, I ate a diet that was much more dense in carbohydrates that I had eaten in a long time. I also drank cold beer... ate great burgers... and fell in love...with Cold Stone Creamery Peanut Butter Perfection Ice Cream.

But that's what summer is about, right? Barbeques. Sunshine. Ice cream. Relaxation. Did I mention, ice cream? Mmmm....

The other reality is that when you train in this way, coupled with a week of intense riding, and three weeks of 'recovery', because I was exhausted at a cellular level, that my body responded by hanging onto lots of calories... good and bad. And from that exhaustion, I made the smart decision to not run my half marathon next weekend, because I knew I wouldn't have the appropriate time to prepare.

And I also put on some muscle.
Lots of muscle.
Have you seen my legs lately???
I got legs... big time.

All that said, I'm ready to get back into the swing of my training routine. I'm looking forward to building more muscle and shaving the Cold Stone Creamery Ice Cream from my mid-section. I'm excited about getting back to lifting weights at the gym, teaching even more challenging spin classes, and living life.

I'm back.
Big time.

This also means I'm back to blogging. Admittedly, I needed a break from the thinking... the processing... the writing about myself and my life. And I come back to this medium refreshed, revitalized, and rejuvenated in the knowledge that not only did I have the best summer of my life, but I also had the best year of my life. On this weekend, as I celebrate my 37th birthday, I reflect upon my accomplishments... my successes... my friends... my life.

And I loved every good, bad, challenging, emotional, messy, jubilant, celebratory, stressful, incredible moment of it.
Big time.

Absolutely, big time.

Kia kaha.
Stay strong.

Six days, six hundred kilometers, six thousand dollars...

It wasn't soon after posting my last blog that I began to receive messages from readers telling me not to be so hard on myself, to be proud of what I've accomplished, and in once case, to chill the F&%K out. First of all... thanks for the feedback. Secondly, I realize that I am incredibly tough on myself. I'm a Type-A personality with high expectations of others and myself. And over the past two years of course, I've been moving full speed through my life, knocking past my goals one by one. Getting to my most recent goal, being 200 pounds for my charity bike ride to Montreal has been VERY slow coming... yes, I'm developing lots of muscle (have you seen my legs lately? LOL!) and my measurements are still going in the right direction. So, I've had to shift my thinking quite a bit about what success looks like, and what indicates whether or not I've achieved my goals.

That said, while I've been spending time in my head shifting my expectations of myself, I've also spent a lot of time out on the road shifting gears on my bike. I'm riding in the 2010 Friends for Life Bike Rally -- a 6-day, 600km bike ride to raise money for the Toronto People With AIDS Foundation, an incredible organization that provides tremendous support through direct service programs to men, women and children living with HIV/AIDS. My friend Jonathan convinced me to participate in this year's ride, and since I now live my life in possibility, and trying to do one thing a day that scares the crap out of me, I agreed. Granted, Jonathan is an incredible cyclist, and agreed to run the half-marathon with me in September if I agreed to do this bike ride with him in July. That said, I never knew I would come to enjoy riding outdoors so much.

Over the past two months, I have gotten back in the saddle, and taken all of my hard work from indoor cycling to the road, experiencing a degree of power and freedom like never before. I've travelled over 1000km in training rides so far, and even cranked out 170km this weekend alone in a 24-hour period. I've seen parts of the greater Toronto region that I had only seen through the car window, and met a crew of fascinating and inspiring people who are passionate not only about cycling, but also about this important cause.

And surrounding myself with passionate and powerful people is just what I needed to give myself a kick in the a$$.



Two weeks ago, I was riding on this incredible stretch of highway north of Toronto. We were about 30km into our training ride (of which there are two each week), when I broke away from my pack of fellow riders to tackle the road ahead. Taunton Road is a long stretch of rolling hills, made up of slow climbs and long descents that can challenge many riders, and make many more excited by what it takes to make it through that leg of the ride. As I turned onto Taunton Road, a friend told me that this leg almost made him cry last year -- and that made me want to tackle it even more.

As I rode along the road in the blazing sun, there was no one behind me and no one ahead of me. Cars flew by me at 80+ km/hour, and the generous shoulder on the road provided me with a comfortable and safe buffer from the vehicles sharing the road. My goal for this stretch was to maintain a steady pace -- about 80 rpm -- that would allow me to ride efficiently and powerfully. And as I started out on the first gradual incline, I felt the energy flow through my body and provide the fuel I needed to ride fast, ride hard, and ride strong. I felt a bit of tightness in my quadriceps, a quick indication that I needed to adjust my pedal stroke and drive through the heels of my feel, thereby activating my glutes (they're looking pretty fab too, these days... LOL!) and giving me more muscle strength on every drive. I remembered what I tell participants in my spin class -- I tightened my core, relaxed my shoulders, and neutralized my pelvis, bringing me into the most comfortable and powerful riding position to conquer this stretch of road.

And then I took a deep breath... and began to power through the ride.

My breathing was deep and strong. My heart rate monitor was comfortable, and my cadence was strong. I pedalled along at about 75-80 rpm, with the only thing keeping me moving being the power of each push and pull of my feet on the pedals. I focused my energy on my breathing, and remembered that every stroke begins with a breath (yet another tip I tell all of my spin participants), and allowed my breathing to drive my pace.

And at that moment, I fell into the most comfortable and powerful zone I have ever felt on my bike.

Remembering that I only started to cycle outdoors two months ago, I began to feel the freedom that the bike provides. More importantly, I began to realize the power that my body possesses. The only thing that was going to push me along that fated stretch of road was knowing that the synchronicity of my thinking, my breath, my muscles and the technology upon which I sat. And that realization was liberating.

Quickly, I became incredibly proud of myself. With every grinding climb and long descent (especially the one I took at just over 60km/h), I remembered that two years ago, I never would have been able to experience power and speed quite like this. I never would have heard the depth of my breath coming into rhythm with my pedal stroke, which was only matched by the sound of the wind blowing past my ears and the heat of the sun bearing down on me.

And then I realized how addictive cycling could be.
Forget that.
I realized how addictive cycling had become.
And I never anticipated that I would like it so much.

If you've followed this blog, you've read about how much I love indoor cycling. But imagine taking the high you get from that one-hour intense workout and magnifying it with the momentum of a bike that actually moves... and the feeling of conquering a real hill... the exhilaration of racing down a decline... the satisfaction of knowing that you've reached your destination on no more than two wheels.

Imagine that and you'll begin to appreciate why I'm loving this so much.

I'm spending time outdoors in the company of people who love cycling as much as (if not more) than I do. And I'm learning lots from them in the process. I'm breathing in fresh air north of the city that I've not taken into my body in a very long time. I'm getting the tan I've always wanted (and the tanlines to match), LOL!

It's a truly wonderful experience... helping me to transform my thinking (yet again) and take my sense of self as a physical person, as an active person, as an athlete, to a whole new level.

And I can't wait to ride to Montreal.

So back to 'the ride' (as it's come to be known...)

Seven weeks from today, I will hit the road with hundreds of other men and women, riding to raise money for the Toronto People With AIDS Foundation. Each participant has to raise a minimum of $2200 to participate -- and I met that goal a long time ago. I have set a new goal to raise $6000... 600km, 6 days, $6000... it has a certain ring to it, doesn't it? When I meet my goal, I'll get a 'top fundraiser' gold cycling jersey (I'm a sucker for accessories), and I'll have the pride and satisfaction of knowing that I not only surpassed my initial goal, but more importantly, that I've raised a wonderful amount of money that will go far to help people in need in my community.

All that from riding a bike... pretty incredible, eh?

That said, if you're interested in helping me meet (and surpass my $6000 goal), visit my donation site here, where you can make an on-line tax deductible donation. While 'the ride' will take me on a 600km ride between two of my favorite cities in Canada (Toronto and Montreal), it will give me the opportunity to work harder and stronger than I ever have before.

I hope you'll take advantage of this opportunity to help.

Kia kaha (Stay strong)