Balance

Recently my Mom was commenting that it's been awhile since I've updated my blog. It has been! And I imagine that my blog posts will continue to be infrequent for the next several months, until I finish my thesis and get to face the real world excitement of unemployment! Yes, times are bum and getting bummer! And while there is a light at the end of the tunnel (dim though it may be) for finishing my thesis, I can't quite make out the light in the 'poverty' tunnel anymore. My days as a starving student may not come to an end when I stop being a student after all. Huzzah!

Yes, money has got me stressed. My scholarship has long run out, soon my tuition fees will start accruing, and budget cuts have meant that on the rare occasion where casual work does pop up at my research centre, there's about 20 post grad students scrambling to do it. Being told to "hurry up and finish" my thesis isn't exactly helpful when I'm worrying about how to pay the next month's rent. All of which is complicated by my being an international student, meaning, I have to pay a fuckload more for everything and have a fuckload fewer resources available to me. I don't regret coming here, at all, but it is a lot harder than I ever expected it to be.

My life at the moment is like a game of Tetris. I'm doing my best to put the pieces together and clear the lines, but they keep coming, faster and faster. Money, uni, work, visas, health, friends, family, lovers... All coming at me in weird angles, forming complex shapes and piling up in debris around me instead of steadily building into coherent lines that are easily cleared from the screen. And like in Tetris, I am taking risks, putting pieces in where they don't necessarily fit in the hopes of creating a line that can be cleared later on. Am I doing a good job of it? I don't know. But I'm still in the game, and that's what counts!

You know what it's like? It's like walking a tight rope while juggling 3 balls, when you don't know how to do either. I walked a tight rope recently...not while juggling, but I did that recently too. At the end of last year I finally decided that I would join up with the Women's Circus. I started the New Women's program in January. It is - without a doubt - the best decision I have made all year!

I was fortunate enough to end up in a class with the most amazingly friendly, supportive and fun women! And not only have I made some awesome new friends, but I've made them while doing the most ridiculously cool stuff! The kinds of stuff that you just don't get to do as an adult. But the best thing about circus is: for two hours every week the stress of the Tetris game goes away. For two hours every week all the complexities and worries are gone, and in their place is fits of giggling, goofing off, learning new skills, and just having fun!

The New Women's program isn't focused on any one circus skill, but covers a wide range of different skills, and involves playing a lot of fun/silly games. Like 'tiggy tag' or 'freeze tag' as we'd call it in Canada, and 'chuck the chook' (I don't know what we'd call that one in Canada, but it involves a rubber chicken). My all time favourite game was one where we were in groups of 4, we lined up single file, hands on the person in front's shoulders, and only the back person was allowed to have her eyes open. It was her job to steer the rest of us in a human locomotive. I liked being one of the people with their eyes closed best. I couldn't stop laughing!! And when I was at the front of our train, I started doing some dance moves that had our conductor in hysterics. Our trainers (who are INCREDIBLE) kept telling us to try and keep it a relatively silent activity...which wasn't exactly happening due to my hyperventilating from laughing too much.

Every week we do something different, and we usually have no idea what we'll be doing until we're already in the class. I like the surprise of each week. It makes me extra reluctant to miss class! And I like that we get to try so many different things: aerials, acrobalance, clowning, stilts, tight rope walking, tumbling, trampolene, juggling, hula hooping... You just never know what's coming next!

Funny story about that: we do a lot of activities that involve being up close and personal with each other. You get used to having someone you've just met touching you in ways people don't normally touch you. So one day, after doing some warm up games stuff, when one of our trainers announced what we were going to be doing next I heard 'group pooping'. Everyone in the class began to cheer and get visibly excited, meanwhile, I had a look of complete horror on my face and was like "Wait, what? We're doing what? Please tell me I did NOT hear that right!!!" And no, I did not hear her right. She said we were doing hula hooping, not group pooping. I was only slightly relieved.

Much to my surprise, I do not enjoy hula hooping! It's awesome to watch people who are good at it do their thing, sure. But I am not one of those people! I am terrible at hula hooping! I just do not understand how my body is meant to move in order to make the hoop not fall to the ground. And it apparently doesn't matter which part of my body I attempt to spin a hula hoop from: it ain't happening! I'm OK with this though. There are many other things that I am good at, and many other things that I am terrible at but that I deeply enjoy anyways. Hula hooping is just not for me. Juggling, on the other hand... I am pretty crap at juggling, but also much to my surprise, it is pretty much my favourite thing to do. Go figure!

Tumbling is another activity that I'm surprised to find myself loving! Up until a few months ago, I had never, in all my life, done a somersault. Even as a kid, I just couldn't figure it out. I could do backwards ones for some reason, but forward rolls alluded me. But then one day we did them at circus. The trainers took us through the process of doing a forward roll step by step and got us onto this wedge mat to make it easier for us. When my turn came to attempt the forward roll I expected to end up heaving over sideways. But, I bent over, bit my bum, and HUZZAH! Over I went, in a relatively straight line! By the end of the class I was doing them on the floor without any assistance. Tumbling is decidedly awesome!

Then there's aerials: things like trapeze, ropes, tissue, and the cloud swing. I struggle with aerials. I don't have the upper body strength to pull myself up onto the equipment, which can be a challenge. But, as I recently found out, it's not really an excuse for not giving it a go anyways! We did a bunch of aerials stuff a few weeks back, when I happened to be in the most foulest of foul moods. I was feeling particularly sensitive about the decline in my fitness - thank you thesis stress for that! - and was determined that I wouldn't be able to get into any of the aerials equipment, and was not particularly interested in trying.

But... no matter how grumpy I was, the group I was working in wasn't giving my bad mood any energy. They hoisted me up onto the equipment anyways! I still wasn't feeling up to the challenge of actually doing anything once I got up there, but, I was pretty damn happy to be there! I probably will be more brave in the future when we do aerials stuff, as just getting up into the equipment - even with a lot of help - was a huge confidence booster!

When I started up with the Women's Circus I thought that I'd be pretty awesome at acrobalance, and particularly at basing. It has proved more challenging than I had anticipated! But also, very rewarding. I've discovered that some of my dodgy bits can make acrobalance quite hard. One of my shoulders is a lot weaker than the other (something I have recently come to suspect is a result of my skiing accident 20 years ago) so holding somebody's weight over my head can be difficult. I've also got an exposed nerve on one of my hips which can make having someone stand on me really painful, though it's totally fine if they're not putting pressure on the nerve. Due to a dodgy knee I have trouble holding my legs straight, which can make leg basing tricky.

I have actually found it easier to be a flyer than a base, though I generally prefer basing to flying. It is mentally challenging to bring myself to let someone much smaller than me base me, thought the women in my class certainly have been perfectly capable of doing so!! It is a bit funny though, trying to step up onto someone teeny tiny, just because there's not a lot of surface area on which to stand. You kinda just have to go for it and trust that they'll let you know if it's not working. I like basing when we do standing poses, or anything where we move around. Last week we did this cat on cat stuff...it was like when you're a kid and someone gives you a pony ride, only the person on top is actually balancing on the base's back. I'd be quite happy to move people around a properly padded surface in this way any time!

There's all sorts of different classes that focus on different skills run by the Women's Circus. When you join, you can't do any other classes until your second term of New Women's - which I'm in now - and while you only have to do two terms of New Women's, you're encouraged to do a full year. There were a few classes I was interested in this term, but I decided not to sign up for any more as I didn't feel I had the money or the time. But you know what? Circus provides me with so much respite from all the other crap in my life that next term - even though I will very likely be back in Canada for part of it - I plan to take a second class. After all, what's a bit of money for a whole lot of happiness?

The Easter Bunny Chronicles

I have a fairly tumultuous relationship with public holidays, and this is especially true of religious holidays that have gone public. I mean, why am I given (read: forced to take) time off to celebrate the birth and death of Jesus instead of, say, Foucault? Why should I have to juggle work and participating in important cultural events just because my primary source of community has to do with my sexuality, and not my religious beliefs? Do we not live in a big enough, diverse enough, creative enough world to come up with some sort of holiday rostering system so that instead of the entire country shutting down all at once we could divvy things up between the Christians and the Jews and the Muslims and the Queers and the Footy fanatics and all the other various groups that hold more important other dates on the calendar?

I've been reflecting on holidays lately, and particularly on Easter because Australia has this whole 'hot cross bun' phenomenon that has mystified me for the past 4 years - but that's another story! Anyways, I've been thinking about the holidays and I've realized something: Easter has long been my favourite of the lot! (If you're curious, I deem Thanksgiving the worst. It's a blatant celebration of white privilege and turkey slaughtering, and I really don't think those are things to have a party about.)

Easter has always had this mythical, ethereal feel to it. There were attempts to bring me up Catholic - but like trying to raise a chicken to be a duck, it didn't take. I was always really perplexed and amused by the religious traditions that surround Easter. Ash Wednesday, Lent, the stations of the cross... they are all steeped in this seriousness and solemness that I could never understand. Perhaps because at the same time as all of this was going on, all the commercials on TV told of a magical egg laying bunny that comes once a year to deposit chocolate around your house.

You've gotta admit, that sends a pretty confusing message! I mean, at least there is some sort of a logical link between Santa and Jesus's birth: you get presents on your birthday! With Easter it's like: man gets tortured and killed and rises from the dead, so a bunny comes 'round and lays chocolate eggs at your house. I don't really know much about zombies, so maybe the logical conclusion of a zombie uprising IS a chocolate egg laying rabbit. I've seen lots of birthday celebrations and there's always an exchange of gifts. I've only ever celebrated the one zombie uprising, so I don't have a frame of reference for these things.

Growing up, the Easter tradition at my house was to have an Easter egg scavenger hunt. We'd wake up on Easter Sunday and discover that the Easter bunny had come by and deposited a handful of chocolate eggs in our rooms, along with a rather cryptic note (which, I think, is to be expected from a bunny who both lays chocolate eggs and has good penmanship). The note would contain a riddle, the solution to which would take you to your next clue - and next lot of chocolate. There would be a series of these notes scattered in all sorts of crazy locations throughout the house, and I believe the idea was that the riddles got progressively harder to solve as you got closer to finding your Easter basket - which was always filled with amazingness!

As I'm writing this, I'm seeing a link between my love of Easter and my lifelong love of pirates... which also reminds me of one of my favourite memories of my Dad. I used to go on searches for buried treasure, and would find really random things (like a dog's milk bone) and claim them as my treasure. One day, I drew up a pirates map and pretended that it was not something I had just completely made up myself. I asked my Dad to take me to the park so that we could investigate this map and go digging for buried treasure. We went to the park and eventually I decided that we had reached the 'X marks the spot' spot, and we started to dig. In a classic Dad move, my Dad made up some BS about how I should check just behind me, which I did. While my back was turned, he buried some coins and drew an X where I'd been sitting and called me back to inform me I'd been sitting on the X all along! I knew that he'd done it - I'm sure I probably stood there and told him off for doing it too (which he would have denied vehemently) - but I'm glad that he did. Even though I knew it was all make believe, he'd made the magic real.

Ha! Oh geez! This lifelong love of scavenger hunts and finding unexpected things... it's no wonder I grew up to be a researcher!!

But back to Easter! Those Easter egg hunts were the best! I remember one year my brother and I were gradually lead into the laundry room, where our Easter baskets were strategically hidden inside the washer and dryer. We both thought that was just absolutely preposterous of the Easter bunny! Silly rabbit! Another year, as I was getting older (and hence my riddles were getting a lot harder - I seem to recall some of them involving solving mathematical equations...), I was given a riddle that I was completely unable to solve. In my memory, we sat there for an hour while I tried to make sense of the bloody thing. Meanwhile, my little brother has solved all his clues and is happily making his way into a sugar coma.

I think in many ways my parents (and for those of you unfamiliar with my family dynamics, I have two sets) balanced each other out well: for all the attempts at 'gendering' I got from my Dad, my Mom taught me how to be self-sufficient and do my own heavy lifting. It's because of her that, no matter what happens in life, I can pick myself up and put myself back on track. I'm not really sure who's responsible for my love of doing laundry though...

I'm missing my family a lot this Easter. This year, my life... let's just say I passed 'full on' a few stops back! Being on my own, so far away from my family, sometimes it's tough. Now that I'm so close to finishing my thesis that I can almost taste it, what I need more than anything is to just lock myself away in a room where I can think big thoughts and not have to worry about the minutiae of life: those things like having food in the house, or cooking nutritious food, or having clean dishes, or having clean clothes, or earning an income... It's not the kind of thing that everyone is going to understand, but this level of intellectual work is fucking exhausting! It zaps your mental energy, leaving you in a zombie-like state where making small, day-to-day decisions that normally wouldn't seem to require much thought become painful. For example: I love cooking, but lately, the thought of having to find the time to cook has made me want to cry.

I have a lot of amazing friends who, seriously, I cannot even begin to explain how grateful I am for them and their support! Hubby especially. The number of times he's cooked for me, cut my hair, and just held my hand as I've freaked out... He makes up a lot for not having my family to turn to for those immediate, day-to-day things we all so often just need some help and support with. And he's certainly not the only one. I feel like I've got a whole village of people looking out for me and doing what they can to help me along, and I cannot even begin to express how much I appreciate everything that all of my friends do for me, big and small.

But still, I am really looking forward to going 'home' in a few months (dates still TBD) and just letting my family be responsible for my day-to-day existence, just for a bit!

Kissing Sydney

Have you ever met someone and just clicked with them, forming a friendship before you even really know much of anything about one another? I've made a heap of friends like that recently. It may seem like the kind of connection that is superficial and won't last, but when you click with someone so easily, maintaining a friendship with them is really quite easy. Case in point, my friend T. We met 7.5 years ago when we were both studying in Amsterdam and have stayed in touch over the years. In one of those funny coincidences that make me think the world is not such a big place, she moved to Sydney not all that long after I moved to Melbourne. As I never seem to travel anymore, we try to catch up whenever she's in Melbourne. When she was down in November, she invited me to come up to Sydney for Mardi Gras and stay with her. I booked my flight the next day.

On New Years Eve I declared 2012 the kissing year and was issued a challenge to kiss 52 girls in 52 weeks. This was turning out to be easier said than done. By the beginning of February I hadn't kissed anyone; not even hubby! One night I was out at a queer club with Trouble and she made a comment about how it was obvious we weren't together as we were both checking everyone else out. So I grabbed her and pashed her and declared it a date (a running joke between us). The kissing picked up from there, but still, when March rolled around I'd only reached 4/52. Drastic actions were needed if I was ever going to reach my goal! And I knew just the thing...

T was marching in the parade with Scarlet Alliance and Gender Agenda, promoting sex worker rights; something that I am very much in favour of. She invited me to march with them, but initially I decided to be a big lameypants and said I wanted to just watch the parade this year as I'd never seen it before. But we went out for dinner with some of her friends on Friday and they informed me that when you march in the parade you spend several hours in this holding area where everyone lines up and it's a big ass party. Quite frankly, that sounded like a helluva lot more fun than standing around on some street corner all night. So I marched! And boy am I ever glad that I did!! In that one night I managed to pash 31 girls; all but 3 of whom were a direct result of my marching in the parade.

Having decided to march, I of course needed something outrageous to wear. Our group had a decriminalise sex work theme, so some people were wearing orange jumpsuits and shackles, some were dressed as sexy cops, and everyone else was dressed in red. And then there was me...

The outfit certainly got me lots of attention, especially the eyelashes! Girls kept stopping me and asking to take a picture with me, to which I replied "Sure, but it will cost you a kiss." Most of those kisses were really conservative ones - on the cheek or a peck on the lips - and did not count as part of my tally. Had they, my total of girls kissed would be significantly higher. That pre-parade area was insane! For awhile there it was like everywhere I turned I was kissing someone.

But it wasn't all about the kissing. I met heaps of lovely people who would just come over and have a friendly chat. My favourite non pashed randoms that I met were the Snow Queen and King (both women, obviously) who I met in a queue for the loo. It was absolutely pissing down rain and they were both standing under a massive umbrella, so I stood under it with them and we struck up a friendly conversation. They were marching with the Jews, and had I been Jewish I apparently would have made excellent marriage material (no, I did not tell them that I'm both anti-religion and anti-marriage).

We were in the pre-parade holding area for at least 3 hours before we started marching (possibly longer as we were bringing up the rear) and it was pouring rain. We were marching with red umbrellas, which was fortunate, but I still got completely drenched. And you know, since I was wearing a white t-shirt that had been completely soaked through, the only sensible thing to do really was to ditch the bra... And of course, after mixing champagne and vodka, the next logical move was to flash the drag kings...

My strategy for kissing girls was basically to run up to anyone who looked kissable and made eye contact with me for more than 5 seconds and pash them. It made the march super fun! Sometimes women were screaming from the sidelines for me to come over and kiss them. It was awesome!!
After the parade we went to a party at the Red Rattler called Oi!! Monsta Gras. That people would be dressed up like monsters had not even crossed my mind, so when I walked in, I was blown away by all the amazing costumes. And, like any good queer party, I ran into people I knew and a couple gay guys fell in love with me. It was a pretty awesome party. I mean, I was grinding with The Hulk and I pashed a unicorn! But more on that later.

As the night went on, it got harder and harder for me to find girls to pash. This seemed counter intuitive; usually as the night goes on, lips get looser. But then I saw myself in the mirror and suddenly I understood why!

We made it home at about 4am, which, given T lives in Manly, was about 3 hours earlier than I actually had expected to be home by. And, true to form, I woke up at 7am the next morning. And by next I mean same. There was nothing for it but to go wander down to the beach, get some Ben and Jerry's for breakfast, grab a coffee and get a pedicure. I know, it's a rough life!


Well, I'm sure you're all dying to get the goss on these 31 girls that I pashed. There is no way that I could possibly recall them all - like I said, it was a lot of me running into the crowd, making out with random people, then running back - but I can give you a Greatest Hits summary!

#5: The Boys
Yeah, yeah, yeah, they weren't meant to count BUT it was Mardi Gras and everyone's a little bit queer anyways, right? Both the boys I pashed were marching with us... as were several of the girls, but I'll get to that! After some random pashing in the pre-parade area I was complaining about how conservatively people were kissing me, and a guy from the Australian Sex Party offered to give me a real kiss - the kind you see naval officers give their girlfriends when they return home for shore leave. That didn't count at first, but after the third time I figured he could be an honorary girl. Same with the pirate. Goodness he was gorgeous! Tall, dark and handsome in an effeminate way, and totally straight. And very confused as to why I - as a lesbian - was giving him a free pass to kiss me. Desire is a funny thing and kissing is a lot of fun! There's no need for it to be anything more.

#4: The Unicorn
At the after party, I had wandered up to a couple of girls on the dance floor and was trying to convince one of them - or probably all of them - to pash me. I recall that I was focused on the one who was not dressed up as anything, who then informed me that while she wasn't going to pash me, her friend - the unicorn - would be most happy to oblige. I looked at her friend and said "I've never pashed a unicorn before." To which she shrugged and gave me a kiss, with just a bit of sneaky tongue. I didn't realize it was sneaky tongue until after we stopped kissing and this blue haired woman was staring at us going WTF?! I am interested in many things; causing lesbian drama is not one of them! I gave her friend shit and apologised to the girlfriend and walked away. Still, I figured pashing a unicorn has got to be good luck...

#3: The $20 Kiss
This was just beyond outrageous! One of T's friends said that she'd help me with my pashing numbers but couldn't because she's in a relationship. Fair enough. But then, as the night went on, they came to an agreement that she could kiss me if I paid her $20 for it. I was just like "Dude, you're barking up the wrong tree if you think I'm going to pay $20 for a kiss!" She kept going on about how amazing a kisser she is and how at a loss I was, and I was not budging about the money, so we were at a stalemate. But then! T, highly amused by the whole situation, bought me a $20 kiss with her friend!!! It was... a very vigorous kiss. Personally, I like tongue to be more hinted at than made explicit. We felt differently about this. The bite at the end was pretty hot though.

#2: Special Guest Appearance
I have another friend who is from Melbourne but has moved to Sydney and I was hoping to catch up with her over the weekend. I called her up and let her know I'd be marching in the parade and she said she'd be my cheer squad. We both had plans to go to the same party after the parade, so I figured I'd see her there. I tried to keep an eye out for her during the parade, but I figured I must have missed her. Then, all of a sudden, as I was just walking along, pulling our suitcase and having a break from the pashing, she jumped the barrier, ran into the parade, and pashed me! It was pretty hot! Given that was all I ended up seeing of her during my trip, I'd say we made the most of our time!

#1: The Mardi Gras Miracle
So as I said before, I pashed a few of the people who were marching with us. There was this one girl who I had seen before we left the Scarlett Alliance office that I thought was pretty cute and was a bit shy to go up to (I am a lot more forward with people when I know all I want is a kiss). As we were waiting for the parade to start we were sitting on the sidewalk, in the ran, having a chat and I told her about my kissing challenge. She said "Well, I'll pash you." And we proceeded to have a very nice kiss that left us both smiling. We resumed our conversation and discovered that we were both planning on going to the same after party. Then I got a call from T and I had to run off and try to find her. As the evening progressed, I still had this kiss on my mind. So when we returned to actually get lined up to march, I went up to her and pashed her again. She informed me that if I was to continue doing that it would really make her night. Unfortunately, I was being a bit too in the moment and that was the last I saw of her! I had not even thought to exchange numbers to ensure we were able to meet up later. This did not play too heavily on my mind on the Saturday, but come Sunday, I had regret!

Sunday afternoon there were various post Mardi Gras parties happening around the city. T and I made plans to meet up with some of her friends at a party in Newtown. We were all pretty exhausted and even though the party was pumping, the rain was still pouring down, and the dance floor was outside. So we decided to head off and get some food and hope that the rain would let up. It did, and we returned, but none of us were really all that keen to stay. So we decided to have one drink and hit the dance floor and then head off. I was dancing away when a familiar face walked past - one of the guys who had been marching with us, and was friends with the girl I had pashed! At first I just smiled at him, but then the logical part of my brain gave me a thunk and I asked him if he could either give me this girl's number or give her mine. He gave me her's and I promptly sent her a text. We weren't able to meet up again whilst I was in Sydney, but she has plans to come down to Melbourne, and I have a date! You see? Pashing a unicorn is good luck!!

The Kissing Year

And just like that, 2011 comes to an end. I didn't see the beauty in this last night, but I wore the same dress this NYE as the one I wore to that little karaoke bar in Kona last year. I ended the year in the same outfit that I started the year in. Only this time I didn't pour beer down my front.

2011 was - from start to finish - one of the best years of my life. There were bad parts to it, but the hard stuff is what makes us stronger, and I learned and grew from my experiences. I've found myself feeling a bit sad as this year has come to a close. As if the year ending means all the awesomeness 2011 brought me will end too. It's a silly attitude - and I'll get to that - but as the clock got closer and closer to midnight, I found myself feeling more and more closed off.

When midnight struck I was sitting on the deck at a friend's place, surrounded by a small group of women - some of whom I'd just met, others that I know very well. We lit sparklers and laughed. And I decided to stop being silly and start enjoying myself.

You know why 2011 was such an incredible year for me? Because as I rung it in, I made up my mind that I was going to make it an incredible year. It was a resolution in the truest sense: it was a mission statement. No matter how crap I was feeling, I kept on living my life. I kept doing things to make my life - in some way - better. The awesomeness of 2011 wasn't some magic cast upon me by that bar in Kona or the electromagnetic fields of mantra rays; I made it happen for myself. There's no reason I can't do the same for 2012.

2011 was a lot of things for me, but more than anything else, it was the year of friendship. Not only did I meet a lot of incredible new people who I consider to be absolute blessings in my life, but I've developed some truly wonderful friendships with people who were already in my life. I am in absolute awe over how amazing the people in my life are. The bar has been raised! I no longer allow shitty people into my life, and I encourage others to do the same (even if that means kicking me out of your life - which I know for at least one person it has).

I've had a lot of down time over the holidays - my family being far away and all my friends pretty much being busy with family of their own. So I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my life and what I want from it. I got a good thing going for myself over 2011, and I'm eager for that to continue. But there's always ways to improve upon something, so how can I take things up a notch in 2012? The answer came to me as I exchanged New Years texts with one of my awesome friends: 2012 is the kissing year! Tell your friends!

Several people in my life have said "Nah, 2012 is the year of writing." But - and I'm sorry - that is stupid! All the people who said that are writers. You can't declare a year the year of your job! Even if your job is something that involves some degree of starving artistry. Just, no! You can still work on your writing and have all those achievements while enjoying some sweet kissin' action. And honestly, who on earth would say no to kissing for the sake of writing? Priorities, people, please!

I absolutely love kissing. It's the best thing about a new romance. The saddest thing to me is when a relationship reaches that point where the kissing just kinda stops. Why do we always stop when it's the nicest part? It's ridiculous! So I guess that is my resolution for 2012: to not stop kissing!

As Coach and I made our way to Thornbury to start our respective evenings at a friend's BBQ, I explained to her about how 2012 is the kissing year. She was less than enthusiastic about this - having just gone through a breakup (side note: if ever there was a reason to get your kiss on, that is it! That is actually a major finding from my research, so, doctor's orders!) - but I wasn't letting up on the idea so she proposed that I needed some ground rules:

1. Ladies Only, Gentlemen Forbidden.
2. It doesn't have to involve tongue, but it does have to be a proper kiss. A quick peck on the lips is not a proper kiss.
3. If it's a year of kissing I'm after, I've got to kiss 52 women; one for each week.

This last rule is rather daunting! 52 is a lot of women! I feel like that is asking for mono (or rabies... given I've just finished reading Chuck Palahniuk's book Rant). I only kissed 3 people in 2011 (and yes, there is a rather disturbing picture on my phone that suggests a fourth, but that doesn't count!). I'm really quite happy with the level and quality of kissing that I experienced in 2011. I have some good 2011 kissing stories, but I'm not telling them on my blog! Though I will share some of my other kissing stories with you...and if I go through with this kissing year business, the women of 2012 will probably not get that same level of privacy!

It's an interesting challenge. There are some kissing related circumstances that are preventing me from committing to going forward with this challenge at this time (I did not kiss anyone at midnight, so as of yet the kissing year is entirely theoretical), but should I go forward with Coach's particular set of rules, I have some game plans for how to get to 52 in a year.

Have I told you the story of the first time I kissed a girl? I was 21 and out with a totally awesome friend at a monthly 'fetish' night at the local gay club. Actually, the very first time I kissed a girl I was 13, but that's the story of how I came to be a heterosexual - so a story for another time! Anyways, I was at this club with my friend and this girl comes up to us and says: "I'm trying to see how many girls I can get to kiss me tonight. Would you like to help me out?" My friend agrees, they make out for a bit, and then my friend writes her name on this girl's arm so she can keep tabs. And then it was my turn...

So I'd spent the last 8 years actively repressing my homosexuality, and along comes some random girl who offers me a totally innocent, no strings, opportunity to do something I was secretly dying to do. To say I was excited is an understatement! Well, Katy Perry, I kissed that girl and I liked it! A lot. Better than any kiss I'd ever had before. I had absolutely zero interest in stopping kissing her, though when I realized that I freaked myself out and did stop. I have no idea who that girl was, but I am eternally grateful to her and whoever was behind her kissing challenge. Thank you for showing me how awesome and  totally OK it is to kiss girls!

I wonder how close to 52 that strategy would get me? Especially if I was to do it while I'm in Sydney for Mardi Gras...


Pucker up ladies!



Conquering Greta

When I was a little kid, I used to ski. I was pretty good at it too, lending support to the stereotype I've come across in Australia that Canadian children are born with skis on their feet. We're not born with skis on our feet; it's just, when it's winter 8 months of the year and you live beside the mountains, skiing's what you do! You spend enough time with skis on your feet, you're bound to develop some skill.

So after a few seasons, I was pretty good. I could go off on my own on the easier trails, and I could do some of the harder ones too if I had an adult with me. I was on my way to skiing become a lifestyle when suddenly I found myself wrapped around a tree. It was so bizarre! One minute I was speeding down the slope, turning to stop at the halfway point on the hill, and win the race I was having against my Dad and Pat (who was only 5 and just learning to ski). Then next minute I was staring up at the ski, wondering why I was staring up at the ski and who was crying. Twenty years later I still don't have any memory of what happened between starting that turn and lying on the ground. I hit that tree so hard that it wiped what I assume was a couple of minutes of my life clean from my memory.

That's the kind of thing that sticks with you - not the memory of it, obviously, but the experience. It wasn't until I started learning to ride a bike that I realized just how much that experience has stuck with me; how much fear it has given me.

I never did get back into skiing after that. I remember going cross country skiing on a Girl Guide's trip one time and making some progress then. I had really enjoyed cross country skiing, and eager to get me back on track to a skiing lifestyle my Dad bought me a pair of cross country skiis for Christmas. Unfortunately, whatever progress I had made was quickly undone. While everyone else was off ice staking at McKenzie Lake, I was trying out my new skis. Everything was fine, until I found myself on top of a mid-sized hill not too far off from the frozen lake. Rationally I knew I could ski down the hill and be OK; even if I felt like I lost control, there weren't any trees and I knew all I had to do to stop was fall over. It didn't matter; I was frozen with panic at the top of that hill. I actually had to take my skis off and walk down the hill. I don't think I ever put them on again.

Since buying Greta, it's taken me awhile to actually get out and get riding. I needed someone to help me, and finding someone to do this was easier said than done. But, when my new flatmate (who I will affectionately call Coach) moved in, she was really keen to get me riding. So one sunny Friday afternoon we headed out to one of the nearby parks and my riding lessons began. Coach would hold on as I peddled, helping to correct me and running alongside me...and more than occasionally would get run into by me. Gradually I improved. She didn't need to correct me so much, or hold on quiet so much.

I remember the first time Coach let go: I had been doing pretty good with her only lightly holding on, so she let go. I knew she'd let go and I panicked. I actually froze up. And moments later came to a crashing stop. I'd had this flashback to my skiing accident, to being completely unable to control wrapping myself around a tree. I'm pretty sure that first time on Greta I very nearly wrapped myself around a fence!

That fear of losing control runs deep. So deep that I hadn't even noticed it was there. It wasn't until Coach let go and I realized I really had no idea what I was doing that the fear leapt up from its depths. And I was terrified. But I knew, I absolutely knew that I had to keep going. After a quick debriefing with Coach we agreed to try again, and that she would not let go this time out, even if I was doing really well. With that comfortably in mind, I was able to keep going and the terror subsided.

It actually took quite a long time before I was able to let Coach let go. We always negotiated if she would be letting go or not, and I always felt confident in my ability to stop the bike, or at least fall off the bike, with a minimum of injury to myself should I need to. The trust was there, both in her promise to hold on for as long as I needed and in my ability to be OK when she did let go. But even still, it was easier said than done. The next time Coach let go, she also stopped running beside me. I was riding perfectly fine, but when I realized that she wasn't right there beside me, I just froze up and crashed into the fence. Again. So we debriefed again and she agreed to continue running beside me while I got used to being on my own. Even though by this point we were both well aware that she was much better off being far, far away from me and Greta when I crashed into something!! That's friendship!

About a week after running the 10k, once I'd had my 'recovery' period, we headed out again! This time, Coach would help me get started, but then I would be riding on my own. We practiced on a paved footpath that runs beside a soccer field. Along the narrow side of the soccer field. My goal was to ride to one side and back without crashing. I was getting closer and closer; but still having a few too many close calls with the fence. Then, finally, I did it!! I made it to from one side to another without crashing!!! Now it was time for my triumphant return.

The funny thing about losing control is that if you just surrender to it, you'll be OK. Instinct takes over, and either you recover or you minimize the damage you're about to cause to yourself. I know this! I practice this! Many, many times when I've been horseback riding or walking on a slippery path, I have had that moment of realization that I have lost control, and I have just let it happen, and fallen with grace. Every time that I have surrendered to that loss of control, I've come out OK. Every.Time. And yet, sometimes when I sense I am losing control, I fight it. I fight it and I rail against it, and I make the situation a lot worse. And that is what happened upon my triumphant return.

I had almost made it to the end of the path when I started to tip over. I tried to straighten up, but then I just went too far over to the other side. Again, I tried to correct myself, and... wound up lodging Greta onto my leg. I lay on the path on my side, one leg on top of the other, with my top leg stuck between Greta's tyres. Coach had to come over and literally pry Greta off of me. Here's a picture of my bruises the morning after!

And a week later...

It's been 3 weeks now, and that big one on my calf is nearly gone. The others are gone, and been replaced by a few new ones. I got back on Greta after that rather spectacular stack. I had to lay on the ground in agony for a bit first, then walk it off, but I got back on and eventually did make it to one side of the field and back again.

My legs were pretty freggin' sore after that crash, so I wasn't super keen to go out riding again. But on Saturday Coach and I headed out to the park for one more round. This time I was going to work on turning and she was only going to help me with getting going. As it turned out, I didn't need her to help me at all! I hopped on Greta and took off all on my own!

I was glad to have Coach there, even if she was only there for the moral support. And to take pictures!! Which she did with aplomb. I still had a bit of trouble getting going (as in I'd nearly topple over trying to get my balance), and stopping in time was a bit dicey, and my turning left a lot to be desired. But I was riding all on my own and building up my confidence! And developing all sorts of calluses on my palms from my death grip on the handle bars.

The death grip is starting to lessen now though. Slowly, slowly. After my success on Saturday I felt confident to go out on my own. In fact, as we headed back to the apartment to enjoy our celebratory oversized beers, I decided to ride through the other park, instead of walking my bike back like I normally would. And I just took off!

Since Saturday I've been out riding on my own twice. The first time was Monday evening. There were lots of people and dogs in the park, so I was absolutely drenched in terror sweat as I tried not to run into anyone (and thereby nearly ran into everyone). There's these bridges in the park, and they just go over little dips, but going over the edge of the bridge on a bike would do some serious damage! Every time I had to go over a bridge, I panicked. One bridge in particular, for some reason, I continually crashed into and had close calls on. I don't know why. But every time, I made myself keep riding over it.

I went for another ride today, earlier in the afternoon when fewer people were around. I did great!! I didn't crash into anything. I still freaked out going over the bridges, but I was a lot calmer and therefore didn't have any close calls! I had a goal to do 3 laps of the park without crashing, and then I can go play in traffic. I did that today, but given that the park was pretty much empty, I think I need to do it again when it's busier. But it certainly won't be long before I'm actually going places! I now just need to build up my confidence to ride in a straight line...then I can go play in traffic!

Leveled Up

I wonder what I would have said at Thanksgiving last year if someone had told me that in a year I'd compete in a 10k race... It wouldn't have seemed impossible, but the prospect certainly would have been overwhelming! If you told me right now that next year I'd compete in a half-marathon I'd be surprised, but not shocked...a full marathon would shock me (and no, I don't think so)!

So many people have said to me that 10k is a really fun distance to run, and before this morning, I thought they were all crazy. But guess what?! It is!! For all the training I've done for this event, the most I ever ran was 6k. And it was tough! I find now that I can get through 5k pretty easily; I struggle at the 3k mark for a bit, but once I push through that it's smooth sailing. Because, you know, I get to stop running in another 2k!

I was really not sure how I'd go with the 10k race. A colleague's well intended caution about how she'd injured her knee doing a 10k, tight calf, thigh and muscles, and a forecast for rain were not helping me think positively! Nor was the discovery that I'd have to take a taxi to the event, as the trams and trains wouldn't be running early enough to get me there.

The race started at 7:30am, I booked a taxi for 6:40, and set my alarm for 6:00. And woke up at 5am, to discover it was pouring rain. The day before I had decided I'd forgo my morning coffee, as I normally wait until after my morning run to have one. But, given that it was 5am and I was up and feeling pretty shitty about it all, I figured why not? I'm very glad I had that coffee! As soon as I did, my mood changed and, though unrelated, the rain let up. Now I was excited to get out there and run!! I'd also decided that I'd have a couple teaspoons of peanut butter for 'breakfast', even though I don't normally eat anything before a run. This was a mistake. Not too bad of one, but come the 3k mark I had regrets!

My office hubby lives around the corner from the MCG (where the race started and finished), and he was running in the half marathon. We had decided to meet up after the race, and I'd left a change of clothes with him so that afterwards I could just go back to his place, have a shower, change, and then we could get food. I'd packed this bag expecting the weather to be pretty decent, so I figured I'd better bring something warm with me to the race and leave it at the clothing drop. In retrospect, it would have been a better idea to have left my change of clothes at the clothing drop, but you live and learn!!

The taxi trip didn't take long, so I got to the MCG nice and early, leaving me plenty of time to drop off my jumper, pee, stretch, and find the start line. And you know what happened? Just before the 10k kicked off, the sun came out!!

Yup, I was all smiles as we lined up to start the race! When I did the 5k, I started out fast and was really flagging by the end, so I was determined to start out slow this time. And man, was it hard!! Everyone seemed to be passing me, and my body was aching to get some speed going. I wanted to take the first kilometer pretty slow, and I did manage to keep the first 500m to a nice, slow, 'warm up' pace. Then I slowly started increasing my speed and finding a good pace.

I had the foresight to make a specific playlist for this run (and to bring both my ipod and iphone, just in case) of songs that would pump me up to run to. I put the list on shuffle, and somehow, it played just what I needed when I needed it! Around the 4k mark Beyonce's 'Run The World'. I cranked up the volume as high as I could stand and FLEW!!! In the 4 minutes of that song, I ran at least 1000m and probably closer to 1500m. It was fucking AWESOME!!!!! No, like, there's awesome, and then there's what I did between the the 4 and 6k marks. It's a whole other level!

Of course, once that song ended, you could barely call what I was doing running. So much so that I quickly gave up the ghost and just walked for a bit. But then Kanye West's 'Power' came on, and it just would have been disrespectful not to run to that song!! Even if it was still a slow run.

I was a bit weary of having a drink while I was running as I didn't want to get a cramp, but when the second drink station came up after I'd done that insane sprint, I just couldn't turn down a drink of 'green'! I really only had a few little sips of it before tossing it aside, but it was enough to give me a much needed energy boost, without any cramps.

Then the second best thing happened: Pink's 'Raise Your Glass' came on, and I cranked up the volume again and started to speed up. And as I'm running along and she's telling everyone to raise a glass to me, I look around me, and I'm running through the third drink station...where everyone's got a glass raised to me!!! That put a massive smile on my face. :D

Shortly after that though, I was feeling it and had to slow down to a walk again for a bit. There's this big bridge that goes over Birrarung Marr and into the MCG, and I allowed myself to walk until I got to the bridge. The plan was to start running when I got to the bridge - which meant running up a fairly decent incline - and just keep going until the finish line. I got up the incline, but then what I was doing wasn't running, so I decided to let myself walk over and down the bridge and THEN run the final 1500m stretch. As I came to the end of the bridge, I was sort of looking down, trying to pump up the volume on my phone so I could just push myself for that last bit, and when I looked up, I had a massive dizzy spell and nearly fell over. So I knew what that meant: NO MORE WALKING!! My body had been pushed to it's limit, and the only way I was going to finish was to keep pushing, and pushing hard!

As I said, my playlist really came through for me over and over again; this time with a couple songs from Kanye West and Jay-Z's collaborative album 'Watch the Throne'. The last stretch of the run was this really annoying loop. We ran down this path, then turned around and ran back, did a circle, and then came to the finish line after a sudden corner turn. It wasn't the best organised event I've been to. As I started the loop, I was really confused about if the race ended at the end, or if it ended somewhere else. I wasn't sure if I should be going balls out or reserving that last push for a bit longer. But System of a Down's 'Bounce' helped give me some last minute energy to finish off the annoying loopy part of the track.

When I got to the circle part - the part I now know is where I should have been going balls out - guess what song came on? Jay-Z's 'Blue Magic'! I couldn't think of a more perfect song to cross the finish line to. But like I said, I was really confused about where the finish line actually was. I was looking for a big FINISH sign like they had at Run Melbourne, so it almost dawned on me that I was in the home stretch too late. I wondered why all these spectators were staring all expectantly at me!! Once I did figure it out, I put the pedal to the medal and sprinted to the finish, with the crowd giving me a big cheer along.

I do have to say, the way the finish area of the race was set up was enough to make me not want to run in the Melbourne Marathon events again. After I passed the finish line I wanted to ease down into a walk, but had to really abruptly stop so as not to run into a heap of people who were just standing around trying to sort themselves out. And instead of having heaps of people handing out water bottles and energy drinks, I had to queue for a little cup of some watery 'yellow' and a couple orange slices. AND I didn't get any swag!! They did have a couple nice things going for them though: a volunteer actually put my medal around my neck and congratulated me (and commented on how I was still smiling after running 10k), and they had professional photographers taking your picture if you wanted it. Obviously you're meant to pay for this picture if you want copies, but I intend to do no such thing!! I can take my own picture, after all! ;)

Once I'd stretched out, used the toilet, and picked up my jumper I headed over to hubby's place where his wife did a wonderful job playing host, even though he hadn't slept yet on account of an after party for a play he'd been in that closed the night before. He also informed me that my clothes were not at their apartment, but I've been lent a very comfy jumper. And given that they let me use their shower and fed me, I'm not about to complain!! Hubby and his bestie made it home about an hour later - and can I just say, what an amazing effort from them both!! They did an amazing job running the half marathon and should be damn proud of themselves!

The rest of the morning/afternoon was spent with the 3 of us curled up on the couch, having a total junk food binge, while watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I don't think I have ate anything of any sort of nutritional value today. Ha! And when I left hubby's, I stopped at 7/11 and bought an ice cream!! And now I'm gonna go get a pizza for dinner. Hahahaha! Whatever, no guilt! I ran at least 9 of those 10k!!!

It feels really good to have done that race. I'm so glad that hubby peer pressured me into signing up!! I don't know when my next race will be, but I think I'll be taking a bit of a break. Summer is coming up, and I really want to start riding my bike!! Also, in a possible bout of insanity, I've just agreed to join the ARCSHS netball team. What is netball? Fuck if I know! Something vaguely resembling basketball. There's a lunchtime league that plays on Wednesdays in Flagstaff Gardens starting at the end of the month...and that's where you'll find me!

I'm still going to continue running. It's such an easy, affordable and effective workout! I'm thinking that until I've got something specific to train for, I'll stick to doing 5k runs in the park, and work on sprinting. I absolutely LOVE the way my body feels when I sprint. I'm not particularly interested in running a half-marathon. 10k was a good distance and a good challenge, and honestly, I don't see the point in long distance running. There's much more applicability in my day-to-day life for sprinting: running for the tram, chasing down muggers, that sort of thing. ;)

Tomorrow I will be stiff, I can feel it already!! I'm going to go for an itty bitty swim and a gooooood long soak in the spa in the morning. Can't wait!

It's Just Like Riding A Bike

Ha! Well, what exactly does that mean when you've never learnt how?

Meet Greta, my new partner in crime.

Gorgeous, I know. That's why I picked her!

On some level I knew that, having only theoretical knowledge of how to ride a bike, it wasn't going to be quite as simple as hopping on and pedaling. I guess I just didn't realize how hard just hopping on and pedaling would be.

I woke up on Sunday super keen to give it a go. It wasn't raining, so I put on my daggiest trackies, got Greta out of the store room, and marched off to the park. I decided to set myself up in the front end of the park where there was a patch of grass that was relatively flat and wasn't full of dog walkers. I hopped on, got my footing, and then realized a series of things:

• Greta has six gears...which one did I need to be in?
• How do you go from standing still to moving?
• How do I turn my lights on?

Honestly, the falling was the only thing I could successfully manage. I spent a good half hour falling. And yes, I looked like a dork, and yes, random people looked at me like I was insane and occasionally openly laughed at me. I was quite the spectacle, and I knew that, and I was OK with that.

What I hadn't given any consideration to was where I live and who was likely to see me making a fool of myself on a Sunday morning. Yeah. I live in the gaybourhood. And being single again, I've put myself back into the ether of online dating. So of course as I was making a fool of myself when someone who I had recently been chatting with walks by. D'oh!

As if that wasn't bad enough... enter the creepy older man. He arrived at the park shortly after I did, and I quickly got the impression that he was overly interested in me. Ostensibly he was jogging, but after his second lap he stopped and asked me if I wanted some help. And for some reason I said, "Yeah, sure!" D'oh!

He spent several minutes suggesting that I move onto a flatter surface than grass, even though doing so would be scary as falling would hurt a lot more. Having just spent half an hour falling over, I was well aware that I'd land on my feet when I lost my balance. So I was like, "Yeah, thanks for the tip, I'll do that." And then he repeated it all over again. He asked me how long I've been living in Australia, and if I planned to stay. I told him how long and said I wasn't sure about staying at this point, he couldn't imagine why.  Then he advised me that as I was clearly going to fall over and look like an idiot and anyone who say would laugh at me and have a go at me, because Australians like to take the piss. Like I hadn't figured that out in the three and a half years I've been here! And then he violated Greta.

Yeah, I won't be taking her out on my own again! I've got a friend who is going to come out with me and help me properly acquainted with Greta, we just have to figure out a time. Until then, pretty she sits, waiting for me to take her for a ride.

FINISH

Oh yeah, look at me go! My official time was 35:08, which I am very proud of! My name was in the paper and everything. That's pretty darn good for someone who decided to start running on a whim 3 weeks prior to the race.

So what's next? Well, to quote Jay-Z it's "on to the next one." I am planning on running the 10k leg of the Melbourne Marathon in October. Even though it starts at 7:30am on a Sunday. (Who does that? Honestly!) I'm using this Couch to 5k app that one of my colleagues informed me about to train. It's good, even though I'm not exactly the demographic it's targeting. I'm using it to build up my speed. It starts off with lots of walking and short bursts of running, so now I'm sprinting around the dog park. In the rain and the cold in the early hours of the morning. I think I'm going to enjoy running a whole lot more come summer!

As for my bike, I've got some money set aside for it, but I'm still going to be saving up my pennies for awhile. A friend of mine offered me the use of her bike, so I went up to hers yesterday to check it out. Unfortunately, as she is rather a lot taller than me, any attempt at stopping would mean getting all too familiar with her bike. It was nice of her to offer though.

I've called this blog FINISH because from here on in, that's what I'm all about! As you probably won't recall (unless you follow my blog religiously, which would be creepy and weird) in exactly one month from today my scholarship - and hence my financial security - ends. Also, in exactly one month from today, I turn 29. So, yay? And I have exactly 7 months from today to hand in my PhD. To all of this, all I can say is fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Look, there's not much I can do about it but go with it. I've got a tutoring job this semester, which I am really super excited about, and I've got a bit of extra casual work on the go. As long as the work doesn't dry up, financially I'll be fine (I may even be better off considering I make a helluva lot more working than on a scholarship). The tricky bit is that there are limits on my visa to how many hours I can work, and as I can't study part time the only way to extend my candidature is to suspend my study and leave the country for awhile. And while a trip to the motherland would be quite nice, I have very little desire to spend my Australian summer in a Canadian winter.

So right now it's all about finding a balance between making enough money to survive, spending enough time studying to finish on time, and having enough down time to not go completely insane. I have already started making some changes to my life to prepare for my upcoming leap from the frying pan into the fire. I've got a rough 7 months ahead of me, but hey, I kick all sorts of ass, so there's no reason why I can't kick this challenge's ass too.

Mission: Accomplished!

Three weeks to train for a 5km race? No problem!!!

So today was the big day, my very first 5km race. And guess what?! I WON!!! I've got the medal to prove it and everything. ;)

Okay, so everyone who crossed the finish line has the medal to prove it, but so what? I kicked all sorts of ass out there, and while I probably won't know what my official time was for a couple more days, I know today's run was a personal best.

Like most things in my life, I jumped into doing this race with very little idea of what, exactly, I would be getting myself into. I decided to do it on a whim, just to prove to myself that I could. Until three weeks ago, the only running I'd ever done was the occassional mad sprint for the tram. Remember when I first said I was going to do this, and I figured I could run 5km in 45 minutes? My time was probably closer to 36 minutes. As I said, ass was kicked!!

I made my way down to Federation Square this morning, where I joined about a gazillion other Melbournites in trackies, skins, trainers, and race bibs. The 5km run started at 10:30am, which was nice as it gave me time to have my morning coffee, a bit of breakfast, and do some yoga before leaving my apartment. There were 3 waves: up to 30 minutes, 31-35 minutes, and 36+ minutes. I was in the last wave. Along with about a quarter of a gazillion other people, as it turns out!

As it approahced 10:30, I joined the other runners in the starting gate and was quickly faced with the unanticipated: there were A LOT of people running in this thing! And we were all squashed onto this road, and the gun was going to go off, and then...was I gonna get trampled...or was I gonna be doing the trampling? Obviously (perhaps) this wasn't unanticipated for the race organizers, and each wave got sent off in smaller, more managable groups. I think the overall trampling was kept to a minimum.

Finally it was my group's turn to go...and off we went! Normally I start off my runs by walking to warm up, but I'd already warmed up for this one, and by this point was feel rather pumped, so I just went for it! And it was AWESOME!!! In no time I was passing people, people who had started before me, and pretty soon I hit a good stride that I felt comfortable in.

Sometimes I think being almost completely unprepared for things can work to my advantage, and this race was definitely one of those times. There were two things that I was psychologically unprepared for that actually helped me to push myself more than I otherwise might have: the sheer volume of people I was running with, and the fact that I had only a very vague idea of how far I'd run and how much further I had to go.

Quickly after the race started, I realized that I was going to be spending a fair amount of time picking my way through packs of slower people. This was actually quite a lot of fun. I'd adjust my rhythme to those around me so that I could come up between two people at the exact moment a spot between them opened up. I'd jump in front of people running faster than me to get around someone slower than me and push myself to sprint so that I didn't end up getting trampled. I ran along the grass, on uneven pavement, and weaved my way through the crowds. Every time I passed a group of people, it made me want to push myself to keep running just that much longer.

The park where I've been doing my practice runs has a 1km track with markers every 100m (except for at 800m for some reason), so when I trained, I'd run for a particular distance (usually 2km) and then slow down to walk for a bit. I figured that there would be a marker for each kilometer of this run and that after I passed the 2km one I'd slow down and walk for a bit. Well, if there were markers for the 5km, I certainly didn't see them! There was markers for the half marathon, but it wasn't particularly useful to run past something saying 12km on a 5km run. Fairly early on I passed some event volunteers who were cheering us all on for having made it "over a kilometer already" but after that, the only time I knew where I was in the 5km was when I got the the sign saying "100m to go!"

Since I had no idea where the 2km point was, I was reluctant to slow down. I knew after the race I could look it up on the map, and that I'd be disappointed if I'd stopped running too soon. So I just kept on going until I got to what I thought was marking the half way point, and only then did I let myself slow down to a walk for a bit. Turns out I stopped running just slightly before the 3km point!!! I didn't want to walk for too long, so after a brief breather and a flick through my music to get some music to pump me up, I was off and running again. This time I ran a bit under 1km before slowing down to walk for a bit again. I'm pretty sure that all up I only walked for 500-600m of the race, which is pretty damn impressive!

After my second bout of walking, I realized I didn't have that much further to go, and I wasn't slowing down. When I got to the 100m mark I started to push myself even harder, even though by that point my hamstrings were tightening up and I was starting to get a side splint. There was just no way I wasn't going to finish the race strong! So I ran all the way through the blue finishing strip before I slowed down. Then it was all about finding the people handing out water and rehydrating. And getting my medal!

I had a friend running in the 5km as well, but I hadn't been able to find her at the starting line. Fortunately, we were able to find each other after the race and celebrate our ass kickingness with a bit of retail therapy, Japanese food, and beer. High on endorphines, we were all about doing the 10km next year. And you know what? Why not?! I had an awesome time running that 5km, and it just continued to be awesome as we wandered around the CBD with our medals while strangers congratulated us on our awesomeness.

But next year, Run Melbourne organizers, I think there needs to be some sort of a 'speed' dating thing set up based on our race numbers. Cuz seriously, there were some hotties out there! ;)

Not only was my first 5km race a big success, but so was my fundraising for Joni's Run For A Bike! I managed to raise $200 toward purchasing myself a bike, and $20 for a dog shelter from a friend who feels that if I want a bike I should "get a job." To everyone who has donated on my behalf, a big, heartfelt THANK YOU!!!! You're all awesome in my books!

Now for my next challenge: learning to ride a bike!

Waiting On My Spaceship

Lately I've had a lot of people telling me that, essentially, I'm amazing. Losing 26kg doesn't go unnoticed, or, if it does, you've seriously got to question who the people in your life are. And it's really nice to hear! I've spent a lot of time in my life being told I'm not good enough, so to have people tell me I'm inspiring, it feels pretty freggin' good. Yesterday I was at the gym and my personal trainer came up to me and told me that I'm doing amazing, and that even the other members were commenting on how well I'm doing. I mean, that's pretty awesome!

The only down side to this new found attention and admiration is that sometimes people just don't get it. These are the people who ask me how I've manged to lose so much weight and when I say, "I work really hard, every day" they just look at me blankly. Then they usually say how they wish they could lose weight too and start listing off a bunch of excuses for why they can't. I've never had a lot of patience for people's excuses. I was once at a craft store looking to buy a photo album for my pictures of my trip to Peru, and the sales associate said to me that she wished she could travel but she's got family, you know how it is. To which I dead pan replied: "Well, we've all got priorities." She didn't take that comment too kindly, which really is the stupidest thing of all because it's absolutely the truth: we've all got priorities. And for her, whatever "I've got family, you know how it is" means is more of a priority than travelling.

It's the same with weight loss and fitness. If you want to do it, you've got to make it a priority in your life. It doesn't necessarily have to be your #1 priority, but I reckon that if you're serious about it, it needs to be one of your top 5 priorities. Otherwise, it's not going to happen. You don't go to sleep every night wishing you could be something other than what you are, only to wake up one morning and find yourself magically transformed. Changing yourself takes hard work! The kind of hard work that I've seen hard working, motivated and determined people shy away from.

But here's the thing: yeah, it's really hard to transform yourself in some way. It doesn't stay hard though. It's not always a grueling process, and you don't always question why the hell you're putting yourself through the process. That's just how it starts. If you keep going with it, it really does get easier. And yes, that generally means it's time to challenge yourself harder, but you know what? Those challenges get easier to take on too.

A year ago if you had told me I had 3 weeks to train myself to run 5km, I would have probably spurted a fair number of obscenities at you. But today, I'm a week away from the race and in this morning's training session I ran 4 of my 5km, and then went to yoga, and have felt strong and energetic all day. It is a challenge to run 5km, but it's no longer a big one.

After I complete Run Melbourne, I am going to continue running. I'm not very fast, and I'd like to get fast. But for now I'm working on building up my strength so that I can run without injuring myself (the new shoes are making a world of difference on that front). I guess that's the thing that some people don't really understand: you can't just roll out of bed one morning and be able to do something you've never done before. You've got to work towards it. And that generally means taking the larger goal and breaking it down into smaller goals. Eventually, I'll be able to run fast because that is something that I want to accomplish and I am actively working towards it. In the meantime, I'm pretty damn stoked at myself for completing today's 5km run in 0:38:15. Since I'm no longer completely ceasing up and in pain after running, I'll be doing a lot of running this week to prepare myself for next Sunday's race.

There is something else frustrating about self transformation that I am probably more sympathetic about: it takes a lot of time. I'm not exactly known to be a patient person, so I definitely get the frustration at the fact that you can't just decide to work at something and accomplish it straight away. I certainly have learned to be a helluva lot more patient through my fitness journey - or at least to be patient with myself. I've stuck with it long enough to know that I will get the results I want if I keep at it, and that helps a lot. Because there are absolutely times where I just want to go full tilt into something, but I can't. Like with swimming. One spectacular day I beat my best time by 2 minutes. It was amazing! That was a month ago and all I've managed to do since is match my second best time, and that was with a great deal of effort.

Changing yourself involves taking a lot of baby steps, or at least it does if you want it to be lasting change. Which is what I have to remind myself of on a pretty regular basis, because I've secretly wanted to be this hard core athletic person for most of my life. And now that I'm closer than I've ever been to obtaining it, it can be really frustrating to think how much further I still have to go. But I'll get there, and I know that. I've worked way too hard and come way too close to accomplishing my goal to stop now!!

This might be a weird tangent to go on, but in my head the link makes sense. I was talking to one of my dearest and oldest friends this weekend about the trials and tribulations of life. Though me and her have different belief systems, we both think about our lives as constituting a narrative: we are the heroines of stories that someone else is writing. Maybe because we are both writers ourselves, we both struggle with the fact that we're not in on the plot line. It's like Stranger Than Fiction: we know that we are in a story, we know that someone else is telling the story, and we're not too happy about not having control over the outcome of the story.

I've been thinking about this a lot since our conversation, though I've thought about it a lot before then too. I absolutely believe that there is some greater force beyond myself that is, to some extent, directing my life. I'm just very reluctant to put a name to what that force may be and very hostile to the idea that somehow this force could be summed up through any one particular belief system (hence why the thought of being part of a religion makes me hiss and spit, and also why I find atheism incredibly reductionist). That being said, it's not like this force has complete control over what we do and that everything in our lives are predetermined. That's just ridiculous! Why would whatever force of the universe there may or may not be bother with having sentient life if only to predetermine every move they make? (Unless, of course, we aren't really sentient...)

I like to think about my life narrative as being of the choose-your-own-adventure variety. Of course, instead of having two choices to pick between to move the story forward, we sometimes can have infinite choices. I think about the mysterious workings of fate like a choose-your-own-adventure book because in those books, invariably there are certain events that you will end up at regardless of what path you take. That doesn't make the journey to those events pointless; quite the opposite! The journey we take to that destination will affect the decisions we make and the next path we take. The journey is, in fact, much more important than the destination.

The two of us are both dealing with one story line ending and the frustration of not knowing where the story is going to go from there. What I have learnt on my various journeys is that life will continue going on, no matter what, and that in time, a new plot line will reveal itself. So, as we both wait for that storyline where we get to enact our own version of Bridesmaids (great movie btw) we've got other story lines in our lives to develop. And who knows where the journey those take us on will lead?

Since my life story can essentially be told through Kanye West songs (seriously), I'll let Mr. West take us out again!

I don't ever wanna go back there so imma be taking no days off until my spaceship takes off.

Two Weeks To Go!

Eghads! There's only 2 weeks until Run Melbourne - 2 weeks to prepare myself to run 5km!!

So far the training is going well. The park near my place has a 1km track, so I've been running laps around that. And I'm quite happy with myself: yesterday I did 5km in 42 minutes, and I ran 3km of that. I had no idea how much running works your thighs and core, but holy crap! I'm having to do a lot of work to recover from running, in the form of yoga and swimming. But it seems to be working. The stiffness I felt after my Thursday run dissipated after my Friday swim, and doesn't seem to have returned after yesterday's run.

I've also invested in a new pair of running shoes, seeing as my old ones are starting to develop holes. I'm really looking forward to taking the new shoes out for a run! They're way more supportive than my old ones, and I always find there's something about new runners that just makes me run faster. Maybe I'll even finish the race in under 40 minutes! Maybe I'll even be able to run more than 3km of the race!

As for my attempt at fundraising for Joni's Run For A Car... well, I don't really need a car anymore. You see, I needed the car because of dating Lady Cop, but since we've broken up, having a car isn't really necessary anymore. So instead, I present to you...

Joni's Run For A Bike!!!

For those of you who don't know me so well, let me impress upon you what a big deal this is: I'm 28 years old and my knowledge of bike riding is entirely theoretical. That's right, I've never ridden a bike. I've resisted learning with Olympic strength stubbornness. But, more and more I have to admit to myself that having a bike would make my life a lot more convenient. And besides, what else am I going to do with the bike lock I've just been donated? So talk to me if you'd like to sponsor me in my run for a bike.

If you're wondering what the heck happened with me and Lady Cop, I think Kanye West sums it up best:

And I always find, yeah I always find something wrong
You've been putting up with my shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us to have a toast...

I won't say more on the matter. Instead, I'm off to do something I haven't done in a loooong time: drink some beer and shoot some pool!

Take us out Mr. West!

Run Joni Run

Over the past 15 months I have been on a fitness journey. Thus far I have lost 24kg, or 53lbs. I look better than ever, I am the slimmest I have been in nearly a decade, and I am in the best shape of my life. And I'm only getting fitter, trimmer and more determined to challenge myself to the MAX!

My exercise mainly comes from swimming and the gym, which I do a combined time of 5 times a week, with yoga on the other 2 days. I regularly set challenges for myself to push myself beyond my current ability. With swimming, I swim 2.1km in under an hour. I do 0.6km with flippers and a kick board and 1.5km of freestyle/backstroke. My best time for the 1.5km is 42 minutes. My goal is to swim the 1.5km in under 40 minutes. But also, I have a goal of swimming 2.4km in under an hour by the end of the year. So now, after completing my 2.1km, I am doing however many extra laps I can until I'm exhausted (which so far is 2, or 60m).

At the gym I do a circuit course that combines cardio and weight training. I do 2 sets, and it involves 10 minutes on the bike and 10 minutes on the cross trainer. Each time I go to the gym I push myself as hard as I can. I set myself a goal that was challenging, but that I knew I would be able to achieve if I kept at it: to ride 4km on the bike and run 2km on the cross trainer in both 10 minute sets. It didn't take me long to reach these distances for my first set, but as when it came time for my second round of cardio, I would be exhausted! I just didn't have it in me to do it for a second time.

But then, the other day I said to myself "I'm going to run 2km on the cross trainer in both sets today." And I did! Thrilled with myself for this, yesterday when I was at the gym I made up my mind that I would achieve my goal: 4km on the bike and 2km on the cross trainer in both 10 minute sets. And you know what? I smashed it out of the ballpark! I rode over 8km on the bike and ran over 4km on the cross trainer in a total of 40 nonconsecutive minutes. Clearly, there is no stopping me.

As I staggered over to the water fountain to refill my water bottle after achieving this goal I noticed a flyer for Run Melbourne, which consists of a 5km, 10km, or half marathon run. In three weeks time. And I thought to myself "I can do that." So I headed home and hopped online to check out what this event was all about ... and I registered for the 5km run!!! In three weeks time.

Not being completely insane, I realize that I've got to actually train for this. Running 5km on pavement is going to be a pretty different experience than running 5km on the cross trainer skis! So I went to the gym this morning before yoga and got on the treadmill ... and quickly discovered that running 5km is going to be more of a challenge than I anticipated! I set the timer for 20 minutes, and managed to run 2.5km in that time. So I reckon I could do 5km in about 45 minutes.

The next three weeks are going to involve a lot of running! Seeing as I haven't ever actually ran 5km, that will be my first challenge: getting used to the distance. I've been looking at maps and figuring out routes I can run around my neighbourhood, and of course I will be even more of a regular in the cardio room at Brunswick Baths than I already am!

So here comes the part where maybe you're going to think I'm a total wanker, or totally brilliant, who knows?!

Run Melbourne is a fundraising event for a number of charities, though you don't have to fund raise to participate. I looked at the list of charities they had available to support, and all I could think was "These are all organisations that really don't really need whatever small amount of funds I could possibly raise for them as much as I could use the money myself."

You see, I need a car. I am slowly saving up to buy one (by which I mean the cheapest roadworthy vehicle money can buy) but my financial situations leaves something to be desired. I'm on a limited income, and I've got debt, so whatever I can save always goes to the debt first. So I thought, maybe people would be interested in sponsoring me in Joni's Run for a Car!

I know there are a gazillion worthy causes out there, and I know there are probably a gazillion things you'd like to spend your hard earned money on for yourself. But you've been following my journey and you've seen me put in the hard yards, so maybe supporting me in my journey is something you would like to put some of your hard earned money towards. Donations of absolutely any size are greatly appreciated and any funds raised will go towards the (eventual) purchasing of a car. My Dad said that all I'm likely to get is a drop in the bucket compared to what I need. But how do you fill a bucket? One drop at a time!
Below is a link that you can click on to make a donation to me via PayPal. Somewhat annoyingly, my PayPal account is in Canadian dollars. I can still get the funds to myself in Australia, but if you know me and do actually want to sponsor me, you can also contact me and we can make alternate arrangements. And if you happen to think other people would be interested in donating for some reason, by all means spread the word!

I'd like to thank my friends, family and colleagues who have all been very supportive and encouraging of me on my fitness journey. Whether I raise any money for myself of not, I'm really glad to have all of you cheering me on. :)