I got the results from my thesis back a month ago: passed with revisions. It's a result I'm very pleased with. My examiners comments give me lots of food for thought and encourage me to take my thinking further. And while I don't agree with all their suggestions, agreeing is hardly the point of academia.
But when people ask me how I'm celebrating, my response is "I'm not." I thought I'd be thrilled to see the result of 6 years of hard work come to a successful end. But I'm not. For the most part, I feel apathetic.
And that's been really confusing for me. Confusing and stressful. Because as I try to sort out what this apathy is about, I'm faced with that big looming question of "What next?" And that's a question I haven't really had an answer to. Like Jack Sparrow in Dead Man's Chest, my compass doesn't know where to point.
When I made the decision to move to Australia and pursue postgraduate studies 8 years ago, the idea of being an academic thrilled me. I was desperately unhappy with my life; study was an out. It was a way to a better future. And while I thought that better future would involve living the my-work-is-never-done lifestyle of a hotshot academic, a lot has changed for me since then.
During the process of doing my PhD my priorities shifted. Through a lot of hard work I gradually built a life for myself that makes me happy. A life outside of my PhD. And while I wanted to make living my new life my priority, I didn't know how to shift my thinking of what it was I would be getting out of my PhD in the end. So even though the prospect of being an academic hasn't exactly thrilled me for some time now, when people asked me what I want to do post-PhD I still say "Research, through a university."
Because my personal life was not a source of pleasure for me, and because I couldn't really imagine myself wanting something more than I wanted a career that would take me away from the things that made me unhappy, I never gave much thought to other career options. I'd be an academic. I'd work hard and long and travel and my ideas would be interesting and engaging. That's what I thought would constitute a good life. A life where I would be constantly striving on to the next big thing.
As I've said, a lot changed for me. I stopped looking to the future and started living in the present, and I discovered that I like it in the here and now. When I think about it, I used to buy into the idea that life has these trajectories that we go down and if you mean well things just kind of work out. But that's not how the world works. Times are bloody tough out there! I've come to terms with the fact that life is often shit and you just have to deal with it because it doesn't matter who you are or what you've been through, life doesn't owe you a fucking thing. Whatever you want from life, you've got to work smart to get it. And be prepared to roll with the punches when it doesn't work out anyway.
What type of a career I have has become a lot less important to me. Instead, I want to focus on enjoying my life. My career goals have shifted to finding something that will pay me enough to be comfortable while managing my debt load, and flexible enough that I can continue pursuing the various adventures life throws my way. I realise that I'm basically chasing after a unicorn, but I want my life to be a lot more than my job! The problem with academia is, it's a particularly exploitative industry, with the situation growing worse by the minute. I've seen the changes that have occurred over the past 6 years, I do not like where things are heading!
I'm writing this from a farm house in central Queensland, because of that whole prioritising living my life thing and because, if you let it, life takes you on some funny adventures. And while I'm meant to be studiously working away on my thesis revisions, I've mostly been sitting here, letting my anxiety about the future grow into paralysis. So yesterday afternoon I was delighted to go sit in a tractor for a few hours and feel anxious there instead! While scouring Facebook, I came across this article that a friend had posted. And I don't know why, but something in me clicked.
The thing is, I love doing research. I love engaging with theory. I love writing. And I am good at all those things. They bring me happiness and make me feel alive. But I don't want to be in the academic rat race. I think ultimately what I would like to do is work in, or with, the community sector. I like the idea of doing work that has practical, tangible benefits for actual people. I don't really know what this role would actually look like, but I feel like I've got at least a vague sense of a goal of something I can work towards. And I know that it is going to take a lot of work to get myself into the career path that I want. It's not going to happen overnight and I probably will have to make some short term sacrifices with living my life to achieve the long term goal. That's OK though, because my compass knows where to point.
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Sunday, October 9, 2011
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!
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!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Gettin' It Done!
This past week has been pretty awesome, I must say! My new flatmate moved in on Saturday and we're settling in nicely. Especially as she keeps doing my dishes for me!! I feel very spoilt. :) Sunday was all about sun, suprises, and pirates in the park. Monday I ran a new personal best, then went to uni and got a ton of work done. Tuesday I submitted my first completed draft of my first data chapter, or, the first one that I think won't need to be entirely scrapped and rewritten. It felt SOOOOO good to send that off. Better than finishing my theory chapter even, which was surprising.
Wednesday was an impromptu lunch with one of my friends from uni to discuss the very secretive business of this year's Christmas party. I'm very excited for the upcoming shenanigans! Thursday, due to insomnia, I was up really early and managed to get to the pool an hour earlier than normal. I had a really great swim, and since I'd gotten there so early, when I finished my regular 70 laps I decided to take my time and do an extra 10. Yup, that's 80 laps, or 2.4km. Goal achieved!!
And then there's today! I actually managed to sleep last night, so I didn't wake up until after 7am (which is quite the sleep-in for me these days). I decided to risk the path in the park being washed out and went for a run in the park...and again ran a new personal best!! What up! Then my new flatie and I went for breakfast at my favourite Brunswick cafe and I showed her my favourite book store. AND THEN we took Greta out for a spin!!
My third time out on Greta, and I am getting very close to being able to ride a bike! My balance and steering are improving, as is my ability to get my feet on the pedals and start going. And I'm learning how to use my breaks, and am getting the hang of slowing down and stopping. I'm still not quite ready to go on my own, but that's not far off. We even found THE perfect spot to practice: a very flat, paved footpath surrounding a footy field. It won't be long before Greta and I are cruising the streets of Melbourne (or at least of Brunswick)!
I haven't talked about it much on here, but in a mere 10 days I'll be running the 10k leg of the Melbourne Marathon!!! I still haven't actually ran 10km yet... but that's OK. I'd love to be able to run it in under 60 minutes, but I'll be quite happy to finish in under 75. I wouldn't say that I'm ready for the race, but I am willing and able. This week I'll be carbing up and gearing up. I want to get at least a couple more runs in before the big day, along with a swim and a session at the gym (tomorrow, not next weekend! No way I'm running 10km after all those squats!!) Physically, I'm feeling great these days! And super energetic. I work out in the morning, then by the afternoon I feel like going again. So even though I haven't ran 10km yet, I think I'm gonna be just fine on the day! Guess I'll find out soon enough!!
Wednesday was an impromptu lunch with one of my friends from uni to discuss the very secretive business of this year's Christmas party. I'm very excited for the upcoming shenanigans! Thursday, due to insomnia, I was up really early and managed to get to the pool an hour earlier than normal. I had a really great swim, and since I'd gotten there so early, when I finished my regular 70 laps I decided to take my time and do an extra 10. Yup, that's 80 laps, or 2.4km. Goal achieved!!
And then there's today! I actually managed to sleep last night, so I didn't wake up until after 7am (which is quite the sleep-in for me these days). I decided to risk the path in the park being washed out and went for a run in the park...and again ran a new personal best!! What up! Then my new flatie and I went for breakfast at my favourite Brunswick cafe and I showed her my favourite book store. AND THEN we took Greta out for a spin!!
My third time out on Greta, and I am getting very close to being able to ride a bike! My balance and steering are improving, as is my ability to get my feet on the pedals and start going. And I'm learning how to use my breaks, and am getting the hang of slowing down and stopping. I'm still not quite ready to go on my own, but that's not far off. We even found THE perfect spot to practice: a very flat, paved footpath surrounding a footy field. It won't be long before Greta and I are cruising the streets of Melbourne (or at least of Brunswick)!
I haven't talked about it much on here, but in a mere 10 days I'll be running the 10k leg of the Melbourne Marathon!!! I still haven't actually ran 10km yet... but that's OK. I'd love to be able to run it in under 60 minutes, but I'll be quite happy to finish in under 75. I wouldn't say that I'm ready for the race, but I am willing and able. This week I'll be carbing up and gearing up. I want to get at least a couple more runs in before the big day, along with a swim and a session at the gym (tomorrow, not next weekend! No way I'm running 10km after all those squats!!) Physically, I'm feeling great these days! And super energetic. I work out in the morning, then by the afternoon I feel like going again. So even though I haven't ran 10km yet, I think I'm gonna be just fine on the day! Guess I'll find out soon enough!!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Beginning of The End
Don't waste your time fighting the line
State your course and you'll understand
- Jay-Z
I remember last year I was really anxious about turning 28 and what this year would hold in store for me. I knew it was going to be a challenging year, and whether it was obvious or not, this time last year I was really freaking out about how I was going to manage. But looking back at the past year... it kind of blows my mind how much I've changed, how much I've grown, how much I've learnt about myself.
Not too long ago my flatmate and I were reflecting on our lives and how different (read: better) our late 20's have been from our early 20's. Thinking about how 28 has been for me, I had mixed feelings about the year. But as my flatmate said, "I think you'll look back on this year as a time when some really positive changes started to happen in your life."
And it's true! For starters, I've lost 20kg in the past year. I ran my first 5km race, and now I'm training for a 10km race. I finished my data collection, completely lost interest in my PhD, then fell utterly in love with it again and now want to build my future career on the research I am doing now. I've healed my relationships with my parents a lot, and I've gotten to reconnect with my siblings as adults, which is nothing short of awesome! My professional skills are starting to be recognized in the form of gainful employment and mentoring...
It hasn't all been fun times and kicking ass though. I had a very stupid fight with a friend, and while we've reconciled now, I regret that I became the kind of person who would let that happen. One of the things I've realized over the past year is that friendship is something I value very dearly. I get along well with most people, but it's rare to find someone who I can truly call a friend. And while there are some people back in Canada who I feel like I've gotten closer with this past year, I've felt a lot of disconnect with my friends here in Melbourne. And given that I live in Melbourne, that is hardly an ideal situation! Then there are the incredible grey areas... Breaking up with Lady Cop, twice, is hardly my idea of a good time. But then, a lot of good has come out of it. A lot of good, and a lot of change, and according to a psychic we went to, change is always a good thing.
I started this blog with a lyric from my current favourite hip-hop song, Blue Magic. The reason this song resonates so much with me right now is that, like so much of Jay-Z's music, it's about coming out of tough times on top. Jay-Z is an absolute inspiration to me. This is a man who came from a situation where nobody expected him to amount to anything, but he always knew better. His intellect, his insight into the way the world works, and the way he so simply yet cleverly lays it out, it's pure beauty to me. This is a man who has been, and who I am sure continues to be, under estimated. A lot of people who get under estimated get this attitude like they've got something to prove to the world, but not Jay-Z. He knows what he is capable of, he knows how good he is, and he knows the world is never really going to get it. But instead of trying to make the world sit up and take notice, he just goes about living his life, doing his thing, absolutely on his own terms, whether the world notices or not. I find that absolutely admirable. Especially because as he's always known his own worth, he's always managed to have control over his career.
Which brings me back to the lyric I opened with. We all come into the world in a particular context: in a particular moment in history, in a particular socioeconomic status, in a particular family, in a particular part of the world. We can't change those things; we've got to play the cards that we're dealt. How we play them though, is up to us. There's no point trying to fight the things that are outside of our control. We are much better off to accept whatever circumstances we are in and focus on how we're going to work with whatever we've got to make the best of the situation we're in.
I've been thinking a lot as my birthday has approached about what my circumstances are, and what I can do about it. And this is the thing: when Lady Cop and I were together, I was fighting the line; I wasn't focusing on myself and my own abilities, and while I thought I was maneuvering myself onto a better course by relying on someone else, I was actually making things a lot more difficult for myself. What inspires me about Jay-Z is how clearly he manages to stay on his course, even with other people in his life. I mean, Beyonce is a mega-superstar with her own career and life goals and all of that. She is an amazing woman and an amazing catch, and I know a lot of people would think that if she snaps her fingers, he'd better come a-running. But no! It's not like that at all. He knows that she's incredible, but he also knows he's awesome personified too. Being with her doesn't change his course. He's still going to do what's right for him.
I want to be the kind of person that can say "You're awesome, I want to be with you, but this is my life and I am living it this way, whether you're in it or not." This is the biggest lesson I have learnt over the past year, and it's been a hard lesson to learn. Compromise is important in relationships, sure, but it is different from going off course with your own life.
So I'm not fighting the line; I've stated my course, and I understand.
What does that mean for my 29th year? Finishing my PhD is my number one priority. But I have to be realistic: my candidature expires in 6 months, and especially given that I now have to engage in paid work to survive and that I want my PhD to launch my future career, I need more than 6 months to finish. So I have decided to extend my candidature by 6 months, which means taking out student loans and paying tuition. I will submit my thesis before my 30th birthday!!! And while I do still want to continue losing weight, right now I am happy with my body. I like my fitness regime; it's not as hardcore as previous ones, but it's enough to continue improving my fitness and toning my body without having to be obsessive about what I eat, while having the flexibility to allow my PhD to take priority. Having a social life is vital to my well-being, so I am actively making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. For reasons that unfortunately stopped being relevant too late to change anything, my flatmate is moving out and someone new will be coming in (tbd, don't want to jinx it, not talking about it until it's in the past).
Tomorrow is a fresh start. From here on in, I'm running the show.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
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. ;)
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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!
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!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
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!
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!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
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. :)
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. :)
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Street Fighter
Perhaps you are not aware of this, but I kinda love action movies. Not all action movies, and not indiscriminately, but I definitely enjoy a good fight scene. Whether it's a beautifully shot kung-fu movie or a gratuitously violent plotless Hollywood blockbuster, if the fighting's good I am probably a fan. I blame my step-dad. We used to bond with him over video games and action movies, and we all always made sure we were home in time for the X-Men cartoon. My love of X-Men, and particularly Wolverine, runs very, very deep.
I wasn't super into video games as a kid, but there were certainly ones I enjoyed. I hated car racing ones (because they are boring and I suck at them, though MarioCart has many redeeming factors...even though I suck at it), and quest games like Mario, Donkey Kong, or Sonic the Hedgehog only held a limited appeal for me. Fighting games though, I could spend hours playing or watching other people play those!
The game that got me completely hooked was actually a quest-fighting game, that I can't remember the name of. All I know is that it wasn't on Nintendo as we'd have to rent the gaming console whenever we wanted to play it. It seemed to be based around a drug deal gone bad, and the players had to fight off all these gangster goons and eventually confront the big boss. So you'd basically go around knifing people, and the reason I loved playing this game so much was that there was a female character, and I could actually, with a great deal of effort, beat the big boss. I knew that I shouldn't enjoy the game as much as I did, but secretly, I was always itching to play it. But that was one of those video games that, as the consoles improved, never quite made it out of obscurity. Eventually, we moved on.
My brother and his friends seemed to especially enjoy playing Mortal Kombat. And sure, you could kill people in strange and gruesome ways, but for some reason Mortal Kombat was always a bit meh for me. I'm not sure exactly why, but if I was to take a guess, I'd say it's because the female characters never really did it for me. In fact, the only female character that sticks out in my mind is Sheeva, and no, that's not attractive!
Now Street Fighter was a game I could get behind! I loved the characters, I loved the story line, I loved the different settings, I loved the secret moves, I loved everything about it. So yes, when at the Secret Wars finale Scale chose to depict Ken Taylor getting his ass handed to him by Ryu, he won my vote, and the crowd's vote, and the judges votes, and therefore, the 2011 title. Much to Lady Cop's (and many others) outrage.
I stand by my vote. Sure, Ken Taylor is an amazing artist, but he's an illustrator, not a street artist. And Secret Wars is about street art, so it's rather fitting that it was won through a street art depiction of a classic Street Fighter battle. Of course, I was already partial to Scale due to his use of Hello Kitty in the semi-finals, and I already had something against Ken Taylor as I lost a bet over what he was drawing in the semi-finals...
The characters in Street Fighter, and I'm thinking Street Fighter II specifically (does that show my age?), were all really interesting and gave you different tactile advantages (and disadvantages) which made it fun to play around with being each one. It should come as no surprise though that my favourite character was, and will always be, Chun-Li. With her long, brown hair, short, blue tunic, and legs of lightening, I was hooked. She'd kick your ass 9 ways to Sunday, then giggle and prance around as the medics carted your broken body out of the ring. This was a woman you did not want to fuck with. And I wanted to be her!
Chun-Li's legs were always a source of fascination for me. They were so... massive and red. Ah, the crappy graphics of old school video games. <3 The point was, she was a total powerhouse, and if you had any doubt, all you had to do was look at her legs. I was always slightly horrified when I'd see her lose a fight. How could those taught, raw, red legs be lying limp on the ground? Defeat is not a word that exists in those thighs!
Chun-Li was more than a secret object of lust for my young, clueless, closeted lesbian self: she was an idol. She was the first female fighter, and she was taking on the big boys! And while she was sexualized and infantilized, she was still a fighter to be taken seriously. Maybe because her legs were so red, it seemed like she could be wearing tights. I understood that she wasn't, but I felt like I had the option of envisioning her as having clothes on. Of course, as the newer versions came out, Chun-Li has became reduced to one of the now ridiculously sexualized 'girl fighters'. I mean, come on! Cammy? What military regiment issues a g-string body suit as it's combat gear? And yes, Elena with her long legs, brown skin, blonde hair (as all African warrior princesses have, of course) and white bikini was super hot, but none of the other female characters ever inspired me the way Chun-Li did.
So why is Chun-Li suddenly on my mind? Because of my own fitness quest. Over the past 18 months I've gone from being sedentary to becoming an athlete. The transformation has been incredible. I'm shocked at the body I see in the mirror at the gym now, at how much it has changed in just the past 6 months. I am amazed by how trim I have become. I've still got a ways to go, but it's clear that if I stick to it, eventually people will stop being so fucking surprised when I tell them exactly how hard I train.
There's lots of different body types that I could work towards. I could just focus on losing the fat and doing a general tone-up, but no, that's not what I want. This journey was never about getting thin; it was about getting fit. Well, appearances may deceive, but there's no doubting my fitness when I get in the pool. I love the sheer physicality of my life now. I love that I can just do things now.
Of course, there's still a long way to go. While I can certainly give the average person a run for their money, I want more than that. I want to give fit people a run for their money. I want people to be able to take one look at me and know that I'm hard core. I want Chun-Li's thighs!!! And you know what? I'm gonna get them!
I wasn't super into video games as a kid, but there were certainly ones I enjoyed. I hated car racing ones (because they are boring and I suck at them, though MarioCart has many redeeming factors...even though I suck at it), and quest games like Mario, Donkey Kong, or Sonic the Hedgehog only held a limited appeal for me. Fighting games though, I could spend hours playing or watching other people play those!
The game that got me completely hooked was actually a quest-fighting game, that I can't remember the name of. All I know is that it wasn't on Nintendo as we'd have to rent the gaming console whenever we wanted to play it. It seemed to be based around a drug deal gone bad, and the players had to fight off all these gangster goons and eventually confront the big boss. So you'd basically go around knifing people, and the reason I loved playing this game so much was that there was a female character, and I could actually, with a great deal of effort, beat the big boss. I knew that I shouldn't enjoy the game as much as I did, but secretly, I was always itching to play it. But that was one of those video games that, as the consoles improved, never quite made it out of obscurity. Eventually, we moved on.
My brother and his friends seemed to especially enjoy playing Mortal Kombat. And sure, you could kill people in strange and gruesome ways, but for some reason Mortal Kombat was always a bit meh for me. I'm not sure exactly why, but if I was to take a guess, I'd say it's because the female characters never really did it for me. In fact, the only female character that sticks out in my mind is Sheeva, and no, that's not attractive!Now Street Fighter was a game I could get behind! I loved the characters, I loved the story line, I loved the different settings, I loved the secret moves, I loved everything about it. So yes, when at the Secret Wars finale Scale chose to depict Ken Taylor getting his ass handed to him by Ryu, he won my vote, and the crowd's vote, and the judges votes, and therefore, the 2011 title. Much to Lady Cop's (and many others) outrage.
I stand by my vote. Sure, Ken Taylor is an amazing artist, but he's an illustrator, not a street artist. And Secret Wars is about street art, so it's rather fitting that it was won through a street art depiction of a classic Street Fighter battle. Of course, I was already partial to Scale due to his use of Hello Kitty in the semi-finals, and I already had something against Ken Taylor as I lost a bet over what he was drawing in the semi-finals...
The characters in Street Fighter, and I'm thinking Street Fighter II specifically (does that show my age?), were all really interesting and gave you different tactile advantages (and disadvantages) which made it fun to play around with being each one. It should come as no surprise though that my favourite character was, and will always be, Chun-Li. With her long, brown hair, short, blue tunic, and legs of lightening, I was hooked. She'd kick your ass 9 ways to Sunday, then giggle and prance around as the medics carted your broken body out of the ring. This was a woman you did not want to fuck with. And I wanted to be her!
Chun-Li's legs were always a source of fascination for me. They were so... massive and red. Ah, the crappy graphics of old school video games. <3 The point was, she was a total powerhouse, and if you had any doubt, all you had to do was look at her legs. I was always slightly horrified when I'd see her lose a fight. How could those taught, raw, red legs be lying limp on the ground? Defeat is not a word that exists in those thighs!
Chun-Li was more than a secret object of lust for my young, clueless, closeted lesbian self: she was an idol. She was the first female fighter, and she was taking on the big boys! And while she was sexualized and infantilized, she was still a fighter to be taken seriously. Maybe because her legs were so red, it seemed like she could be wearing tights. I understood that she wasn't, but I felt like I had the option of envisioning her as having clothes on. Of course, as the newer versions came out, Chun-Li has became reduced to one of the now ridiculously sexualized 'girl fighters'. I mean, come on! Cammy? What military regiment issues a g-string body suit as it's combat gear? And yes, Elena with her long legs, brown skin, blonde hair (as all African warrior princesses have, of course) and white bikini was super hot, but none of the other female characters ever inspired me the way Chun-Li did.
So why is Chun-Li suddenly on my mind? Because of my own fitness quest. Over the past 18 months I've gone from being sedentary to becoming an athlete. The transformation has been incredible. I'm shocked at the body I see in the mirror at the gym now, at how much it has changed in just the past 6 months. I am amazed by how trim I have become. I've still got a ways to go, but it's clear that if I stick to it, eventually people will stop being so fucking surprised when I tell them exactly how hard I train.
There's lots of different body types that I could work towards. I could just focus on losing the fat and doing a general tone-up, but no, that's not what I want. This journey was never about getting thin; it was about getting fit. Well, appearances may deceive, but there's no doubting my fitness when I get in the pool. I love the sheer physicality of my life now. I love that I can just do things now.
Of course, there's still a long way to go. While I can certainly give the average person a run for their money, I want more than that. I want to give fit people a run for their money. I want people to be able to take one look at me and know that I'm hard core. I want Chun-Li's thighs!!! And you know what? I'm gonna get them!
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Pay Off
I am a woman with many guilty pleasures when it comes to TV, and the Biggest Loser Australia is one such pleasure. I'd watched a bit of it here and there, but last year I got into it in a big way. The timing was perfect because I was in a place where I wanted to lose weight, and watching the contestants on this show transform did actually inspire me to make a real effort myself.
I was quite excited when this year's competition started up, having come far enough in my weight loss journey to not be fat enough for the show. When it started there was a contested, Lara, who's starting weight was the same as mine when I began keeping track of my own weight loss: 107kg. (I don't know how much I weighed at my heaviest, I'd guess about 112kg.) As the competition got underway I thought to myself "OK, let's see how this Lara chick does, and I can use her weight loss as a goal for myself."
If you're not familiar with the Biggest Loser, the way they go about losing weight is completely insane. They go from being morbidly obese and very sedentary to training upwards of 8 hours per day. One of the things I really dislike about this show is the contestants diets when they are in the Biggest Loser camp. The show has a lot of corporate sponsorships from various food companies, so, guess what the participants are told to eat? And it gets worse. In order for them to actually get really dramatic results and make the show interesting, they are made to hate their fat selves.
Now, there's a lot of fat-hate out there, and, of course, there's also a fat-acceptance movement. While I don't think that there is anything acceptable about fat-hate, I'm wary of fat-acceptance. I have yet to meet someone who was significantly overweight and also truly, genuinely happy with themselves. Is this because the media tells us to hate on any itty bitty imperfection we have? Sure, that doesn't help matters, but it can't all be blamed on the media. I think that every person with a 'weight problem' (and I am not going to define what that may be) has some personal demon, or potentially many personal demons, that need to be dealt with. If these demons aren't dealt with, I don't think the weight will ever stay off. And hating on your fat self is not going to make those demons go away; it's just adding some new ones into the mix.
Lara proved to be incredibly driven. By the second or third week she had lost more weight than I have in a year. By the time she was eliminated she was down to I think 72kg and wearing a size 10. The thing was, by the time she was eliminated, my flatmate and I had been screaming at the TV for weeks that she needed to go. Sure she looked great, but she had gotten herself into a really fucked up head space and remaining in the competition was doing her more damage than good. She hadn't dealt with her demons at all. Instead, she had just worked her ass off to get as skinny as she could, and lost perspective along the way. She had absolutely no confidence in her ability to keep the weight off outside of the Biggest Loser camp, and that, to me, was the biggest reason she needed to get out: to prove herself wrong and FINALLY deal with whatever her fat demons were. I'm curious to see how she's gone outside the camp, but the finale is still a few weeks away.
Watching Lara made me so incredibly glad that I have not done something drastic to lose the weight. My goals have been small and achievable. They take time, perseverance, and a lot of hard work to achieve, but I continue to achieve them. I have built so much more confidence in myself on my journey because I have done it on my own. I have gone from being an obese, sedentary person to being an overweight, athletic person. And in time, I will be, simply, an athletic person. I currently weigh 89kg, and I think my ideal weight will be between 70-75kg. Though, as I am actually more interested in building muscle than just losing fat, those numbers are really just a guesstimate.
I have never understood the obsession with being a size 8 (I doubt my skeleton would actually fit into a pair of size 8 jeans). I remember the sizes I was wearing in high school, when I was around (or under) 70kg. I was usually a size L, a size 14. That suits me just fine. I don't want to shop in the plus size section anymore. I want to be able to go into regular stores and buy jeans that fit me. I do not care if I am buying the largest size jeans the stores carry; provided they actually look good on me. I want to be able to purchase the funky tights I see in so many stores and know that they are actually going to fit me when I get them home.
Going through my wardrobe, I have to admit to myself that the majority of my clothes are actually way too big for me. As I've said many times, I cannot afford to just buy myself a new wardrobe. But every now and then I take stock of what I've got and what I need, and I make some strategic purchases. This morning I headed into the city on what I thought would be an impossible mission: to find a structured skirt in a shade of brown for around $60.
I decided to go to Burke St mall and check out the newly renovated Myer first, and branch out from there. I've always headed straight to the plus size section at Myer, but this time I decided to give the regular women's section a go first. I had almost completed my walk through and was about to head up to the plus size section when I saw it: the perfect skirt. Figuring "what the hell," I grabbed it in an L and XL, then wandered around and picked up a few other things to try on just for fun, including a less perfect size 16 skirt.
I tried on the XL skirt first, and it was, in fact, perfect. But at $80 it was also a bit more than what I had wanted to spend. I didn't want to spend much on a skirt because I am still losing weight, and it's really frustrating to spend my very limited funds on something awesome when soon it too will be too big. So again, I figured "what the hell," and I tried on the L. And it fit! It is a bit tight, but it's completely wearable and will actually look even better in a few kilos time! Well worth the $80.
I knew I wasn't going to buy any of the other items I'd brought into the change room with me, but I enjoy playing dress-up so I tried them on anyways. And much to my surprise, the size 16 skirt was actually too big! Now, I suspect this is more a case of 'generous sizing' than my actual weight loss, but it felt amazing to know that I don't have to go straight for the plus-sizes anymore! So amazing, in fact, that I went out and bought myself two pairs of funky tights. And sure, when I got home I discovered that one of them doesn't fit, but I also discovered that the tights from last year's epic wardrobe fail now fit me just fine. It's those pay offs that I love the most: fitting into the clothes that were too small, discovering I actually can walk in my heels, watching successive pairs of my skinny jeans become my fat jeans.
My weight loss journey may be taking a lot of time, but look at how that worked out for the tortoise.
I was quite excited when this year's competition started up, having come far enough in my weight loss journey to not be fat enough for the show. When it started there was a contested, Lara, who's starting weight was the same as mine when I began keeping track of my own weight loss: 107kg. (I don't know how much I weighed at my heaviest, I'd guess about 112kg.) As the competition got underway I thought to myself "OK, let's see how this Lara chick does, and I can use her weight loss as a goal for myself."
If you're not familiar with the Biggest Loser, the way they go about losing weight is completely insane. They go from being morbidly obese and very sedentary to training upwards of 8 hours per day. One of the things I really dislike about this show is the contestants diets when they are in the Biggest Loser camp. The show has a lot of corporate sponsorships from various food companies, so, guess what the participants are told to eat? And it gets worse. In order for them to actually get really dramatic results and make the show interesting, they are made to hate their fat selves.
Now, there's a lot of fat-hate out there, and, of course, there's also a fat-acceptance movement. While I don't think that there is anything acceptable about fat-hate, I'm wary of fat-acceptance. I have yet to meet someone who was significantly overweight and also truly, genuinely happy with themselves. Is this because the media tells us to hate on any itty bitty imperfection we have? Sure, that doesn't help matters, but it can't all be blamed on the media. I think that every person with a 'weight problem' (and I am not going to define what that may be) has some personal demon, or potentially many personal demons, that need to be dealt with. If these demons aren't dealt with, I don't think the weight will ever stay off. And hating on your fat self is not going to make those demons go away; it's just adding some new ones into the mix.
Lara proved to be incredibly driven. By the second or third week she had lost more weight than I have in a year. By the time she was eliminated she was down to I think 72kg and wearing a size 10. The thing was, by the time she was eliminated, my flatmate and I had been screaming at the TV for weeks that she needed to go. Sure she looked great, but she had gotten herself into a really fucked up head space and remaining in the competition was doing her more damage than good. She hadn't dealt with her demons at all. Instead, she had just worked her ass off to get as skinny as she could, and lost perspective along the way. She had absolutely no confidence in her ability to keep the weight off outside of the Biggest Loser camp, and that, to me, was the biggest reason she needed to get out: to prove herself wrong and FINALLY deal with whatever her fat demons were. I'm curious to see how she's gone outside the camp, but the finale is still a few weeks away.
Watching Lara made me so incredibly glad that I have not done something drastic to lose the weight. My goals have been small and achievable. They take time, perseverance, and a lot of hard work to achieve, but I continue to achieve them. I have built so much more confidence in myself on my journey because I have done it on my own. I have gone from being an obese, sedentary person to being an overweight, athletic person. And in time, I will be, simply, an athletic person. I currently weigh 89kg, and I think my ideal weight will be between 70-75kg. Though, as I am actually more interested in building muscle than just losing fat, those numbers are really just a guesstimate.
I have never understood the obsession with being a size 8 (I doubt my skeleton would actually fit into a pair of size 8 jeans). I remember the sizes I was wearing in high school, when I was around (or under) 70kg. I was usually a size L, a size 14. That suits me just fine. I don't want to shop in the plus size section anymore. I want to be able to go into regular stores and buy jeans that fit me. I do not care if I am buying the largest size jeans the stores carry; provided they actually look good on me. I want to be able to purchase the funky tights I see in so many stores and know that they are actually going to fit me when I get them home.
Going through my wardrobe, I have to admit to myself that the majority of my clothes are actually way too big for me. As I've said many times, I cannot afford to just buy myself a new wardrobe. But every now and then I take stock of what I've got and what I need, and I make some strategic purchases. This morning I headed into the city on what I thought would be an impossible mission: to find a structured skirt in a shade of brown for around $60.
I decided to go to Burke St mall and check out the newly renovated Myer first, and branch out from there. I've always headed straight to the plus size section at Myer, but this time I decided to give the regular women's section a go first. I had almost completed my walk through and was about to head up to the plus size section when I saw it: the perfect skirt. Figuring "what the hell," I grabbed it in an L and XL, then wandered around and picked up a few other things to try on just for fun, including a less perfect size 16 skirt.
I tried on the XL skirt first, and it was, in fact, perfect. But at $80 it was also a bit more than what I had wanted to spend. I didn't want to spend much on a skirt because I am still losing weight, and it's really frustrating to spend my very limited funds on something awesome when soon it too will be too big. So again, I figured "what the hell," and I tried on the L. And it fit! It is a bit tight, but it's completely wearable and will actually look even better in a few kilos time! Well worth the $80.
I knew I wasn't going to buy any of the other items I'd brought into the change room with me, but I enjoy playing dress-up so I tried them on anyways. And much to my surprise, the size 16 skirt was actually too big! Now, I suspect this is more a case of 'generous sizing' than my actual weight loss, but it felt amazing to know that I don't have to go straight for the plus-sizes anymore! So amazing, in fact, that I went out and bought myself two pairs of funky tights. And sure, when I got home I discovered that one of them doesn't fit, but I also discovered that the tights from last year's epic wardrobe fail now fit me just fine. It's those pay offs that I love the most: fitting into the clothes that were too small, discovering I actually can walk in my heels, watching successive pairs of my skinny jeans become my fat jeans.
My weight loss journey may be taking a lot of time, but look at how that worked out for the tortoise.
Friday, March 4, 2011
All The Singlet Ladies
As we enter March, Melbourne's summer-that-wasn't is quickly moving into autumn. The weather is cooling down and it's time for me to start digging out the warmer clothes. I have to admit, I'm enjoying the cool change. Sure, as the long winter months wear on I'll probably be lamenting about how much I miss the heat and the intensity of the summer sun, but autumn I love. The sun is still shining, but it's cool enough to break out the layers and start getting creative with clothes again. And I can actually sleep at night without feeling like I will spontaneously combust!
Another reason that I'm excited about autumn is that a good deal of my summer clothes are now much too big for me, and I am really looking forward to purging them from my wardrobe. When I started losing weight last year, I made a decision that at the end of each season I could get rid of all the clothes that were too big for me. I have to wait until the end of the season though as I cannot exactly afford to buy a new wardrobe right now! (And yes, yes, we're all aware that I recently splurged on a killer red dress. But that was perfectly justifiable under style tip #5.) My end-of-season plan is slightly flawed though, in that I've now lost 17kgs since last autumn, and the clothes that were starting to be a bit loose on me last year I'll be swimming in now. I may be pretty limited on the 'in with the new' front, but it's certainly time for 'out with the old'!!!
I am a recovering shopoholic with a huge tendency to look at my overflowing wardrobe and declare that I have nothing to wear. But, having lost 17kgs, I'm also really freggin' tired of hiding my new, fitter figure under draping, gaping clothes. I want a new, structured, harder-edged look this year. But, I'm also hoping to have dropped another 15kgs (or so) by this time next year, so there is certainly something to be said for investing in belts and dealing with the excess fabric for the time being. It's a delicate procedure, purging my wardrobe whilst maintaining enough clothing options for me not to go off the deep end and into some hardcore retail therapy. I envision the coming months involving a lot of tights, skirts, and layering! Any new pieces will either be seriously cheap, or have serious long term potential! In other words, 'tis the season for cardigans.
And when it comes to layering, there's one thing a girl should never be without!
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #8: A Singlet Is A Girl's Best Friend
Singlets (or tank tops or camisoles if you prefer) are an absolute wardrobe essential. Versatile, functional, sexy; is there anything the singlet can't do? They show off your arms, back, and decolletage. They can be dressed up or down. They can be worn on their own in warm weather, and paired up with jumpers or jackets in cooler weather. They can provide that extra bit of coverage to a too low cut top (yes, there is such a thing) while still providing sex appeal. Worn under a top, they can smooth out bumps and wrinkles. And if Lady Cop is to be believed, when worn to Bunnings Warehouse (the Australian version of Canadian Tire for the folks back home), they can improve your customer service experience.
Seriously ladies. Fuck diamonds, go get yourself some singlets!
Another reason that I'm excited about autumn is that a good deal of my summer clothes are now much too big for me, and I am really looking forward to purging them from my wardrobe. When I started losing weight last year, I made a decision that at the end of each season I could get rid of all the clothes that were too big for me. I have to wait until the end of the season though as I cannot exactly afford to buy a new wardrobe right now! (And yes, yes, we're all aware that I recently splurged on a killer red dress. But that was perfectly justifiable under style tip #5.) My end-of-season plan is slightly flawed though, in that I've now lost 17kgs since last autumn, and the clothes that were starting to be a bit loose on me last year I'll be swimming in now. I may be pretty limited on the 'in with the new' front, but it's certainly time for 'out with the old'!!!
I am a recovering shopoholic with a huge tendency to look at my overflowing wardrobe and declare that I have nothing to wear. But, having lost 17kgs, I'm also really freggin' tired of hiding my new, fitter figure under draping, gaping clothes. I want a new, structured, harder-edged look this year. But, I'm also hoping to have dropped another 15kgs (or so) by this time next year, so there is certainly something to be said for investing in belts and dealing with the excess fabric for the time being. It's a delicate procedure, purging my wardrobe whilst maintaining enough clothing options for me not to go off the deep end and into some hardcore retail therapy. I envision the coming months involving a lot of tights, skirts, and layering! Any new pieces will either be seriously cheap, or have serious long term potential! In other words, 'tis the season for cardigans.
And when it comes to layering, there's one thing a girl should never be without!
Joni's Top Ten Style Tips #8: A Singlet Is A Girl's Best Friend
Singlets (or tank tops or camisoles if you prefer) are an absolute wardrobe essential. Versatile, functional, sexy; is there anything the singlet can't do? They show off your arms, back, and decolletage. They can be dressed up or down. They can be worn on their own in warm weather, and paired up with jumpers or jackets in cooler weather. They can provide that extra bit of coverage to a too low cut top (yes, there is such a thing) while still providing sex appeal. Worn under a top, they can smooth out bumps and wrinkles. And if Lady Cop is to be believed, when worn to Bunnings Warehouse (the Australian version of Canadian Tire for the folks back home), they can improve your customer service experience.
Seriously ladies. Fuck diamonds, go get yourself some singlets!
Friday, February 25, 2011
Everything's Better With A Police Escort
Remember when you were a kid, in primary school, and a police officer came in to your school to teach you about what police officers do? Police are there to help you, you can trust them, all that business? Well, what I remember most about that talk is the big, strapping man informing us that we are never, under any circumstances, ever to touch a police officer's gun. And from that moment on, every single time I saw a uniformed police officer, I have wanted to touch their gun. It is, in fact, an item on my bucket list.
For a brief period I considered becoming a cop myself. It was a brief period. As anyone who has ever employed me, lived with me, dated me, or possibly had any interaction with me, can attest, I am not one for following the chain of command. There is, at least within the BDSM community, a term for people like me: topping from the bottom. I discovered this term last year when one of the women at my uni was giving a talk on her experiences researching a BDSM community. Someone asked about bottoms who are not willing to relinquish control to their tops, and when she informed us of the term for this, Gary, the man who is solely responsible for my Australian invasion turned to me and said "Yes, we see that with some students, don't we?" It has become an ongoing joke between us. Well, maybe not a joke, but a reality over which we can share a chuckle.
I considered becoming a criminologist (whatever that is) for a longer period of time. I developed an obsession with serial killers and could often be found haunting the 'True Crime' section at bookshops. I showed up for my first day of orientation at uni completely convinced that criminology was what I would be doing with my life. And I left my first day of orientation completely convinced that it would not be what I would be doing with my life. On that day I chose a different path, and I've never looked back.
But the police force remained a point of intrigue for me. I like to understand how things work, especially social things (that's why I am now a sociologist, whatever that is), and I always wanted to get an inside understanding of how the police force works. I mean, they are the ones who are responsible for upholding whatever values it is us academic types decree should be upheld. How could you not be fascinated by this?
Unfortunately, my life hasn't really involved all that much interaction with the police (on duty police, anyways). And when it has, it's been largely dismissive, which I now know is because of an intense professional loathing of paperwork, something I can very much relate to. When it comes to filling out forms, I have severe academic syndrome: "What does this mean when it asks for my address?", "Which social construct do you want me to use to describe my pain level?", "None of these tick-box options reflect my response to this question, is there someone I can speak to about the inadequacy of your forms?"
I've only actually been inside a police station twice: once when I found a pager on the street outside of the police station and bringing it into the station seemed like a sensible thing to do, and once to file a police report when my bag was stolen. Though, the best prank I ever pulled did involve me and another guy pretending to have been arrested for not having the money to cover our bar tab in order to get back at a third guy for not leaving enough money to cover his share of the tab (we won't get into the fact that I was covering exactly $0 of this rather hefty bar tab).
Obviously, meeting Lady Cop was like discovering my own personal gold mine. I think I managed to keep my cool about just how awesome I thought it was to have a cop in my life, at least until the other day when she came by my office whilst on duty. Back when we were dating she had promised to pop in to see me the next time she had work to do in the city. So when she informed me that she would be coming into the city this week, I held her to her promise!
As the day approached, we joked about her coming in and interrogating me. As I thoroughly enjoy giving people the wrong impression about me, I was really looking forward to giving my colleagues something to be concerned with. The only problem is, neither of us are particularly good at keeping a straight face when we're playing a joke on someone; though she is infinitely worse than me. So when a helpful woman from down the hall directed Lady Cop into my office and I smiled and said, "What can I do for you constable?" She just said, "Nah, can't do it." SO DISAPPOINTING! And I was really looking forward to heatedly calling her 'cuntstable'. Oh well, there's always every other day.
Fortunately, the rest of her visit proved to be entirely awesome. My favourite part was when Gary happened past my office as we were talking. The look of concern and alarm on his face definitely made up for LC's inability to carry out our little joke. So after she inspected my office, violated my fish, and refused my offer of a beer, she took me for a spin around the block in her police car! I sat in the front, and still people were looking into the car going "Who is that criminal?" Suddenly cars that would zoom through the pedestrian crossing outside my office were stopping, as were pedestrians as we tried to turn the corner. We went into my favourite lunch place, which was filled with construction workers. And while I was beaming from ear to ear to be getting a police escort to lunch, she was looking around nervously and saying, "You know that most people don't like the police right?"
We sat in her police car outside the front of my building for a bit, chatting and testing out her handcuffs. She waved her OC spray at me and pretended to yell at me whenever someone walked past the car. Several people from my uni walked past, though I'm not sure if any of them realized it was me in the cop car. Oh well! That's why I got pictures!
It was a good play date!
**Edit: Gary just popped by my office to inform me he thought I was being arrested for shoplifting. What a mundane crime to be suspected of! Although, perhaps he figured I was shoplifting because I am a poor student and will therefore let me work for him again??
For a brief period I considered becoming a cop myself. It was a brief period. As anyone who has ever employed me, lived with me, dated me, or possibly had any interaction with me, can attest, I am not one for following the chain of command. There is, at least within the BDSM community, a term for people like me: topping from the bottom. I discovered this term last year when one of the women at my uni was giving a talk on her experiences researching a BDSM community. Someone asked about bottoms who are not willing to relinquish control to their tops, and when she informed us of the term for this, Gary, the man who is solely responsible for my Australian invasion turned to me and said "Yes, we see that with some students, don't we?" It has become an ongoing joke between us. Well, maybe not a joke, but a reality over which we can share a chuckle.
I considered becoming a criminologist (whatever that is) for a longer period of time. I developed an obsession with serial killers and could often be found haunting the 'True Crime' section at bookshops. I showed up for my first day of orientation at uni completely convinced that criminology was what I would be doing with my life. And I left my first day of orientation completely convinced that it would not be what I would be doing with my life. On that day I chose a different path, and I've never looked back.
But the police force remained a point of intrigue for me. I like to understand how things work, especially social things (that's why I am now a sociologist, whatever that is), and I always wanted to get an inside understanding of how the police force works. I mean, they are the ones who are responsible for upholding whatever values it is us academic types decree should be upheld. How could you not be fascinated by this?
Unfortunately, my life hasn't really involved all that much interaction with the police (on duty police, anyways). And when it has, it's been largely dismissive, which I now know is because of an intense professional loathing of paperwork, something I can very much relate to. When it comes to filling out forms, I have severe academic syndrome: "What does this mean when it asks for my address?", "Which social construct do you want me to use to describe my pain level?", "None of these tick-box options reflect my response to this question, is there someone I can speak to about the inadequacy of your forms?"
I've only actually been inside a police station twice: once when I found a pager on the street outside of the police station and bringing it into the station seemed like a sensible thing to do, and once to file a police report when my bag was stolen. Though, the best prank I ever pulled did involve me and another guy pretending to have been arrested for not having the money to cover our bar tab in order to get back at a third guy for not leaving enough money to cover his share of the tab (we won't get into the fact that I was covering exactly $0 of this rather hefty bar tab).
Obviously, meeting Lady Cop was like discovering my own personal gold mine. I think I managed to keep my cool about just how awesome I thought it was to have a cop in my life, at least until the other day when she came by my office whilst on duty. Back when we were dating she had promised to pop in to see me the next time she had work to do in the city. So when she informed me that she would be coming into the city this week, I held her to her promise!
As the day approached, we joked about her coming in and interrogating me. As I thoroughly enjoy giving people the wrong impression about me, I was really looking forward to giving my colleagues something to be concerned with. The only problem is, neither of us are particularly good at keeping a straight face when we're playing a joke on someone; though she is infinitely worse than me. So when a helpful woman from down the hall directed Lady Cop into my office and I smiled and said, "What can I do for you constable?" She just said, "Nah, can't do it." SO DISAPPOINTING! And I was really looking forward to heatedly calling her 'cuntstable'. Oh well, there's always every other day.
Fortunately, the rest of her visit proved to be entirely awesome. My favourite part was when Gary happened past my office as we were talking. The look of concern and alarm on his face definitely made up for LC's inability to carry out our little joke. So after she inspected my office, violated my fish, and refused my offer of a beer, she took me for a spin around the block in her police car! I sat in the front, and still people were looking into the car going "Who is that criminal?" Suddenly cars that would zoom through the pedestrian crossing outside my office were stopping, as were pedestrians as we tried to turn the corner. We went into my favourite lunch place, which was filled with construction workers. And while I was beaming from ear to ear to be getting a police escort to lunch, she was looking around nervously and saying, "You know that most people don't like the police right?"
We sat in her police car outside the front of my building for a bit, chatting and testing out her handcuffs. She waved her OC spray at me and pretended to yell at me whenever someone walked past the car. Several people from my uni walked past, though I'm not sure if any of them realized it was me in the cop car. Oh well! That's why I got pictures!
It was a good play date!
**Edit: Gary just popped by my office to inform me he thought I was being arrested for shoplifting. What a mundane crime to be suspected of! Although, perhaps he figured I was shoplifting because I am a poor student and will therefore let me work for him again??
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Ain't Nothin' But a G Thang
At the start of 2010 I decided that it would be a fun idea to get a year's weekend subscription to The Age. As I'm a student, I was able to do this for quite cheap. I'm not the kind of person who sits down and reads the paper over the weekend, so it wasn't long before I had amassed a person sized pile of unread news papers. The weekend subscription was not a good idea! I comforted myself, saying that it wasn't a full year's subscription; it would only last for the school year. But then the school year ended and the papers kept coming! What was I to do?
At first I tried to ignore them, telling myself that someone else in my apartment block must have gotten tired of stealing my newspaper and had decided to get a subscription of their own. I was able to delude myself with this for a few weeks, but then I had to face facts: my subscription has not run out. You know the saying, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
By this time I was much jaded about the quality of content in these papers, so now when they come I open them up in front of our recycling bins and immediately chuck all the sections I am never going to bother with. Basically, this leaves me with the Arts and Lifestyle sections (both of which I merely skim). My flatmate enjoys having these parts of the paper around because it gives her something to read when she's got 10 minutes to kill before heading off for a social engagement, and I like to cut articles out so I can pretend to myself that this is the kind of life that I am living. And so the pile of newspaper slowly starts it's growth to person-sized yet again.
Snark though I might, I must admit that sometimes the A2 is littered with awesomeness, as it was a couple of weekends ago (though today it was littered with cockroach). That paper a couple weeks ago had reviews of shops that I've been meaning to go to for over a year, a controversial piece on Midsumma, and an article explaining new fads in games. Now, I love playing games. My domino's set is one of my most cherished possessions, and my flatmate and I frequently spend the evening battling it out over the Scrabble board (she beats me every time, but I'll get her yet!) My previous flatmate and I had a few good rounds of Monopoly (we were much more evenly matched at that). Plus, the day I whooped Lady Cop's ass at Battleship will always be a treasured memory. So I was pretty psyched to read about what these new game fads were.
Of the five trends the article described, I can't say as I find much appeal in Cos Play or 'No Lights, No Lyrca'. But I definitely want to check out Settlers of Catan and geocaching. Secretly I am a total geography nerd and I dream of being one of those retirees who occupy their time and money scouring the globe to find their next geocach. I'd totally do it now, but it's definitely an activity that requires a car. So much like Goldie Locks, I came to the last fad and found that it was just right!
Secret Wars is really more of a spectator sport than a game, but I won't hold that against the article that informed me of it's existence. Basically, it's a draw off between two artists, generally of the graffiti genre. The idea is that each artist draws a picture of something awful happening to their competitor, and the best picture wins. When I read that, I was immediately hooked. After all, that is pretty much what I did with one of my friends for all of Chem 30 and the second half of grade 12....
It started off as my friend trying to slag me off, and soon turned into an elaborate story line about two super villains vying for domination over each other. We took turns drawing comic strips whereby we would do something horrible to each other in order to claim victory. Once we had completed our strip, we'd hand it over to the other who would then attempt to exact even more extravagant revenge. To this day I am convinced this has been the best use of my creative talents, ever. At no point is my PhD going to involve me and David Bowie running over our enemies with trains.
Unfortunately, my friend lost the first page of the comic (I'm sure she remembers this differently, but I don't lose anything, ever, so as far as I'm concerned any other explanation violates the laws of physics). I still have the second page, but it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and by that point our storyline was wearing pretty thin. I have produced a few solo venture comics since then, all as gifts for other people. The next time I decide to break out my mad stickman drawing skillz I'll be sure to keep a copy of my work for myself!!
Upon reading the description of this Secret Wars phenomenon, I discovered that the next event was only a week away. After checking out ticket prices, I fired off an email to Lady Cop, who I knew would be just as excited about this as I was. We booked our tickets and off we went!
If I had to sum up the event in two words, I was say it was "pure awesome!" It was set at Thousand Pound Bend, which really lent itself perfectly for this type of event. The DJ was phenomenal! He kept the hip hop pumping all through the night, which left me turning to LC every other song going "OMG! I love this song and I haven't heard it in years!" I'd forgotten how much good hip hop came out in the early 2000's. And anyone who doesn't love hip hop from the 90's probably doesn't have a soul. But let's not forget about the artists, both of whom were very talented and put on a great competition.
This event was the first round of the semi-finals and saw Scale face off against Pierre Lloga. They had 90 minutes to produce their work, using only black ink/paint on white.
That's Scale starting off picture. It was really interesting watching each artist's vision come to life right before our eyes. You've got no clue of what the end result will be when it starts out, and these two artists had quite different styles, so their works came together in very different ways.
At the start of the competition I was cheering for Pierre because I preferred his artistic style over Scale's. But I did have to admit that I thought Scale's concept was more interesting. Scale had Pierre locked up in an asylum, restrained in a straight jacket, whereas Pierre had Scale being chased by a crazy chainsaw murderer.
About half way through the competition Scale won over my support... by drawing Hello Kitty on the cell wall. I mean, you just can't compete with Hello Kitty. I also really liked that his concept was looking in on Pierre through a security camera in his asylum cell.
It was a close competition the whole way through though, with crowd support seeming to be favouring Pierre. Several times the MC came out to get us to cheer for our preferred artist, and to throw out prizes to whomever could be the most obnoxious in the crowd (it goes without saying that LC got a shirt).
As the competition came to a close, we counted the artists down to when they had to step away from the canvas. Both completed works were very impressive and involved quite a good effort at getting down to the nitty gritty details. It was obvious why they were both battling it out in the semi-finals! But it was up to the judges to decide who the winner would be...
The judges were unanimous: Scale was moving on to the next round! The crowd support remained strong for both artists, but Pierre's supporters cheered the loudest, giving him the accolade of crowd favourite. Both artists made an amazing effort and provided us with a very entertaining and enjoyable evening. LC and I are hoping to make it to the next round of the semi-finals and the grand final.
Here's the artists' finished works, decide for yourself who you think should have moved on to the next round:
Like I said, pure awesome! It certainly makes me want to break out the pencil crayons and get those pseudo-artistic juices flowing. But for the time being, my pencil crayons are strictly engaged in colour coding my data. One day I'll get back to my true talent of drawing stickman comics, one day.
At first I tried to ignore them, telling myself that someone else in my apartment block must have gotten tired of stealing my newspaper and had decided to get a subscription of their own. I was able to delude myself with this for a few weeks, but then I had to face facts: my subscription has not run out. You know the saying, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
By this time I was much jaded about the quality of content in these papers, so now when they come I open them up in front of our recycling bins and immediately chuck all the sections I am never going to bother with. Basically, this leaves me with the Arts and Lifestyle sections (both of which I merely skim). My flatmate enjoys having these parts of the paper around because it gives her something to read when she's got 10 minutes to kill before heading off for a social engagement, and I like to cut articles out so I can pretend to myself that this is the kind of life that I am living. And so the pile of newspaper slowly starts it's growth to person-sized yet again.
Snark though I might, I must admit that sometimes the A2 is littered with awesomeness, as it was a couple of weekends ago (though today it was littered with cockroach). That paper a couple weeks ago had reviews of shops that I've been meaning to go to for over a year, a controversial piece on Midsumma, and an article explaining new fads in games. Now, I love playing games. My domino's set is one of my most cherished possessions, and my flatmate and I frequently spend the evening battling it out over the Scrabble board (she beats me every time, but I'll get her yet!) My previous flatmate and I had a few good rounds of Monopoly (we were much more evenly matched at that). Plus, the day I whooped Lady Cop's ass at Battleship will always be a treasured memory. So I was pretty psyched to read about what these new game fads were.
Of the five trends the article described, I can't say as I find much appeal in Cos Play or 'No Lights, No Lyrca'. But I definitely want to check out Settlers of Catan and geocaching. Secretly I am a total geography nerd and I dream of being one of those retirees who occupy their time and money scouring the globe to find their next geocach. I'd totally do it now, but it's definitely an activity that requires a car. So much like Goldie Locks, I came to the last fad and found that it was just right!
Secret Wars is really more of a spectator sport than a game, but I won't hold that against the article that informed me of it's existence. Basically, it's a draw off between two artists, generally of the graffiti genre. The idea is that each artist draws a picture of something awful happening to their competitor, and the best picture wins. When I read that, I was immediately hooked. After all, that is pretty much what I did with one of my friends for all of Chem 30 and the second half of grade 12....
It started off as my friend trying to slag me off, and soon turned into an elaborate story line about two super villains vying for domination over each other. We took turns drawing comic strips whereby we would do something horrible to each other in order to claim victory. Once we had completed our strip, we'd hand it over to the other who would then attempt to exact even more extravagant revenge. To this day I am convinced this has been the best use of my creative talents, ever. At no point is my PhD going to involve me and David Bowie running over our enemies with trains.
Unfortunately, my friend lost the first page of the comic (I'm sure she remembers this differently, but I don't lose anything, ever, so as far as I'm concerned any other explanation violates the laws of physics). I still have the second page, but it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and by that point our storyline was wearing pretty thin. I have produced a few solo venture comics since then, all as gifts for other people. The next time I decide to break out my mad stickman drawing skillz I'll be sure to keep a copy of my work for myself!!
Upon reading the description of this Secret Wars phenomenon, I discovered that the next event was only a week away. After checking out ticket prices, I fired off an email to Lady Cop, who I knew would be just as excited about this as I was. We booked our tickets and off we went!
If I had to sum up the event in two words, I was say it was "pure awesome!" It was set at Thousand Pound Bend, which really lent itself perfectly for this type of event. The DJ was phenomenal! He kept the hip hop pumping all through the night, which left me turning to LC every other song going "OMG! I love this song and I haven't heard it in years!" I'd forgotten how much good hip hop came out in the early 2000's. And anyone who doesn't love hip hop from the 90's probably doesn't have a soul. But let's not forget about the artists, both of whom were very talented and put on a great competition.
This event was the first round of the semi-finals and saw Scale face off against Pierre Lloga. They had 90 minutes to produce their work, using only black ink/paint on white.
That's Scale starting off picture. It was really interesting watching each artist's vision come to life right before our eyes. You've got no clue of what the end result will be when it starts out, and these two artists had quite different styles, so their works came together in very different ways.
At the start of the competition I was cheering for Pierre because I preferred his artistic style over Scale's. But I did have to admit that I thought Scale's concept was more interesting. Scale had Pierre locked up in an asylum, restrained in a straight jacket, whereas Pierre had Scale being chased by a crazy chainsaw murderer.
About half way through the competition Scale won over my support... by drawing Hello Kitty on the cell wall. I mean, you just can't compete with Hello Kitty. I also really liked that his concept was looking in on Pierre through a security camera in his asylum cell.
It was a close competition the whole way through though, with crowd support seeming to be favouring Pierre. Several times the MC came out to get us to cheer for our preferred artist, and to throw out prizes to whomever could be the most obnoxious in the crowd (it goes without saying that LC got a shirt).
As the competition came to a close, we counted the artists down to when they had to step away from the canvas. Both completed works were very impressive and involved quite a good effort at getting down to the nitty gritty details. It was obvious why they were both battling it out in the semi-finals! But it was up to the judges to decide who the winner would be...
The judges were unanimous: Scale was moving on to the next round! The crowd support remained strong for both artists, but Pierre's supporters cheered the loudest, giving him the accolade of crowd favourite. Both artists made an amazing effort and provided us with a very entertaining and enjoyable evening. LC and I are hoping to make it to the next round of the semi-finals and the grand final.
Here's the artists' finished works, decide for yourself who you think should have moved on to the next round:
Like I said, pure awesome! It certainly makes me want to break out the pencil crayons and get those pseudo-artistic juices flowing. But for the time being, my pencil crayons are strictly engaged in colour coding my data. One day I'll get back to my true talent of drawing stickman comics, one day.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
To Jupiter, With Love
As I was watching Eat, Pray, Love on my flight back from Honolulu, I realized that this year is my Eat, Pray, Love year (and yes, I think that's an incredibly wanky thing to say). I am not goarging myself on food from any ethnicity, nor traveling to exotic locales, nor taking a particularly spiritual journey. What I am doing is focusing on me, me, and me this year. So perhaps it's my Exercise, Study, Dare year. My goals this year are to get fit, finish my PhD, and constantly challenge myself. Thus far, I am succeeding in all areas.
In the book, Love is really a central part of her whole journey. Likewise, challenging myself is really a central part of mine. I am pushing myself physically every day and challenging myself to change my eating habits. I am setting small, structured goals for myself with my PhD and this is keeping me accountable to the work I have to do, which in turn is getting done. And I am spending my downtime searching out opportunities to, metaphorically, fall off the horse some more. I want to spend my time doing new things and having awesome experiences. So that is the challenge I have set myself.
Midsumma, Melbourne's LGBT festival, is on right now, though it comes to a close tomorrow. There are heaps of different events put on in Midsumma; something for everyone, and heaps of cheese. I figure the best way to enjoy Midsumma is to go to an event that looks like it will either be completely terrible or completely awesome, depending on if the host can actually pull it off.
This year I picked Sci-Fi Speed Dating. I have no intention of getting into another relationship anytime soon, but I am interested in making new friends and it sounded like a fun way to meet new people. And while I'm not a hardcore sci-fi fan, I am a fan.
I had tried speed dating once before, many, many, many years ago, and it had been a total flop. There weren't enough people, the conversations were awkward, and I told one of my dates my Tanzania Truck Stop story (which, like any good story, is about poo). Let's just say my expectations for Sci-Fi Speed Dating were low.
When I arrived at the venue I was greeted by a sea of men. Not a good sign! But as I got a bit further in and started to look around I noticed that there was at least a handful of women there. Women with more than a few years on me, but still. I wouldn't be talking to myself all night. As the queue progressed to the registration desk I noticed that they were taking pictures of everyone. It turns out there is quite an elaborate system to this speed dating business when you've got more than 4 people involved! Along with getting your picture taken, you got assigned a number... and a complimentary drink. I gulped my drink down pretty fast as I started to realize I was soon going to have to make time pressured conversation with a bunch of total strangers.
Once everyone had been checked in, the women were separated from the men and both groups got sorted for our rounds of speed dating. There ended up being about 13 women, which was a pretty decent number. It at least gave us the chance to talk to everyone, which there was no hope of the guys being able to do. After a fair bit of organising chaos, the music started and we were off!
My first date was... awkward. I'm pretty sure we both took one look at each other and realized we weren't going to like each other, so it was just a matter of getting through a few minutes together. All I'll say is at least I tried! Though, in retrospect, given that we were at a sci-fi themed event, perhaps attempted conversation about science fiction would have been a better tactic. Oh well!
The evening improved from there. The rest of my dates were all perfectly able to hold up their end of a conversation, sci-fi themed or not. Even still, sometimes we'd just be getting into an interesting conversation when the music would start up again, other times when the music started it was like "oh thank god!" Somehow I don't think I'll be making use of the services of the woman who called me American then told me she's a psychic.
Because we were a small group, half way through we got to switch things up so that those who had stayed put and those who had moved around could go on dates with each other. After a good deal of confusion, we more or less took matters into our own hands and continued on with our dates.
By the end of the night, I had had a fair few awkward conversations, and some good reminders that just because someone looks interesting doesn't mean they will be. But I had also had some really nice conversations, and when the dates wrapped up quite a few of us stuck around and continued chatting for a bit. Our host, who I must say really did do an amazing job, came around with a prize bag and we all got to grab a prize. I got this gripper thing that I was having a great deal of fun with. One of the women was keen for us to all get together again, so we handed over our email addresses to her and now there are attempts at some sort of social gathering in the works.
One of the women actually lives quite near me, so we decided to take the tram home together. Our fearless organizer offered to give us a lift back into the city so we didn't have to catch multiple trams to get home, which was awesome! Unfortunately, I lost the gripper somewhere on my way home, either in the back of her car or at the bar. I hope that wherever it has gone, it has found a loving home.
All in all, the night was a success! I had a good time and met some cool new people that I look forward to catching up with again. It was fun because there was so little time to have a conversation with someone that it kinda took the pressure off. And I made it through the evening without resorting to my Tanzania Truck Stop story. It is definitely an experience that I would (and will) repeat.
In the book, Love is really a central part of her whole journey. Likewise, challenging myself is really a central part of mine. I am pushing myself physically every day and challenging myself to change my eating habits. I am setting small, structured goals for myself with my PhD and this is keeping me accountable to the work I have to do, which in turn is getting done. And I am spending my downtime searching out opportunities to, metaphorically, fall off the horse some more. I want to spend my time doing new things and having awesome experiences. So that is the challenge I have set myself.
Midsumma, Melbourne's LGBT festival, is on right now, though it comes to a close tomorrow. There are heaps of different events put on in Midsumma; something for everyone, and heaps of cheese. I figure the best way to enjoy Midsumma is to go to an event that looks like it will either be completely terrible or completely awesome, depending on if the host can actually pull it off.
This year I picked Sci-Fi Speed Dating. I have no intention of getting into another relationship anytime soon, but I am interested in making new friends and it sounded like a fun way to meet new people. And while I'm not a hardcore sci-fi fan, I am a fan.
I had tried speed dating once before, many, many, many years ago, and it had been a total flop. There weren't enough people, the conversations were awkward, and I told one of my dates my Tanzania Truck Stop story (which, like any good story, is about poo). Let's just say my expectations for Sci-Fi Speed Dating were low.
When I arrived at the venue I was greeted by a sea of men. Not a good sign! But as I got a bit further in and started to look around I noticed that there was at least a handful of women there. Women with more than a few years on me, but still. I wouldn't be talking to myself all night. As the queue progressed to the registration desk I noticed that they were taking pictures of everyone. It turns out there is quite an elaborate system to this speed dating business when you've got more than 4 people involved! Along with getting your picture taken, you got assigned a number... and a complimentary drink. I gulped my drink down pretty fast as I started to realize I was soon going to have to make time pressured conversation with a bunch of total strangers.
Once everyone had been checked in, the women were separated from the men and both groups got sorted for our rounds of speed dating. There ended up being about 13 women, which was a pretty decent number. It at least gave us the chance to talk to everyone, which there was no hope of the guys being able to do. After a fair bit of organising chaos, the music started and we were off!
My first date was... awkward. I'm pretty sure we both took one look at each other and realized we weren't going to like each other, so it was just a matter of getting through a few minutes together. All I'll say is at least I tried! Though, in retrospect, given that we were at a sci-fi themed event, perhaps attempted conversation about science fiction would have been a better tactic. Oh well!
The evening improved from there. The rest of my dates were all perfectly able to hold up their end of a conversation, sci-fi themed or not. Even still, sometimes we'd just be getting into an interesting conversation when the music would start up again, other times when the music started it was like "oh thank god!" Somehow I don't think I'll be making use of the services of the woman who called me American then told me she's a psychic.
Because we were a small group, half way through we got to switch things up so that those who had stayed put and those who had moved around could go on dates with each other. After a good deal of confusion, we more or less took matters into our own hands and continued on with our dates.
By the end of the night, I had had a fair few awkward conversations, and some good reminders that just because someone looks interesting doesn't mean they will be. But I had also had some really nice conversations, and when the dates wrapped up quite a few of us stuck around and continued chatting for a bit. Our host, who I must say really did do an amazing job, came around with a prize bag and we all got to grab a prize. I got this gripper thing that I was having a great deal of fun with. One of the women was keen for us to all get together again, so we handed over our email addresses to her and now there are attempts at some sort of social gathering in the works.
One of the women actually lives quite near me, so we decided to take the tram home together. Our fearless organizer offered to give us a lift back into the city so we didn't have to catch multiple trams to get home, which was awesome! Unfortunately, I lost the gripper somewhere on my way home, either in the back of her car or at the bar. I hope that wherever it has gone, it has found a loving home.
All in all, the night was a success! I had a good time and met some cool new people that I look forward to catching up with again. It was fun because there was so little time to have a conversation with someone that it kinda took the pressure off. And I made it through the evening without resorting to my Tanzania Truck Stop story. It is definitely an experience that I would (and will) repeat.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Surrender to the Sea
I think it's very telling what kind of a year 2010 was for me when the best day of it was December 30th. It was well worth the wait though. So what made this the most awesome day of the year? Big up to my brother Patrick for that! Because on this day he paid for us kids to go on an ocean kayak safari AND THEN he did the impossible, but I'll get back to that.
I've always thought that kayaking looked like heaps of fun, but been terrified to do it. Up until I started swimming, my upper body strength was pretty much non existent. It's still nowhere near where I'd like it to be, but I'm working on that. The other reasons kayaking terrified me was because my balance is like, even more non existent than my upper body strength, so I was sure I'd be flipping the kayak ever 5 minutes. And as much as I love swimming, I love doing it in a pool, far far far away from dolphins and the like.
It was two people to a kayak, so Pat and I went in one, and Maya and John went in another. John, being the athlete that he is, had their kayak off and running in no time. Him and Maya looked like they'd been kayaking all their lives, so I can't really say I blame John for disowning Pat and I...
The strongest rower was meant to sit in the back as they are responsible for steering, so our guides told me to get in the front and Pat in the back of the kayak. Which we did, for about 1 second. As soon as I got in, I tipped us over. Suddenly our guides thought I'd be better off in the back. This did nothing to appease my fear that we would capsize in the middle of the ocean.
We were instructed to row out to the buoy, then stop and wait for instructions on how to kayak. OK, sure, except... how do we get TO THE BUOY?!?!? With John yelling instructions at us, Pat and I set off on our ocean misadventure. With no concept of steering, we completely missed the buoy, nearly got ran over by a large boat, completely missed the instructions on how to kayak, and nearly gave one of our guides a coronary. The younger, more laid back guide was instructed to "get those people under control," as Pat and I headed straight for the big rocks we were meant to stay far, far away from.
With a heroic amount of over steering, we managed to avoid the death and/or serious injury we seemed so keen on finding when we first set out. The total trip was probably about 4km, but I reckon Pat and I paddled a good 6km. It was, without a doubt, the best workout of my life! My arms were pumped and I felt like there was nothing I couldn't do if I set my mind to it (except possibly open my right hand, which was claw shaped from gripping onto the oar for dear life for about a week). Kayaking has become my motivation to kick my fitness drive into high gear this year. I'm going to get myself a full gym membership and make the rowing machine my new BFF.
Now, there was some significance to the place we kayaked to, but I have no idea what it is because the scenic route didn't come with a tour guide. Something to do with a burial ground for a big Hawaiian war over women's rights. I'm sure I would have found it all very fascinating. We stopped at a rocky ledge where the kayaks were tethered together and anchored. Here we had an hour to do some snorkeling, grab a snack, jump off a cliff, and do some exploring. All that was asked was that we not swim into the big jagged rocks where the big waves were crashing in. Fortunately, outside of a kayak, I am not completely navigation impaired. When I told this to our more serious guide he cracked a smile, and I knew all was forgiven. Our guide also taught us a signal to let him know that we were OK, a signal which I'm pretty sure the four of us will use with each other for the rest of our lives.
We put on our snorkel masks and hopped out of our kayaks and checked out the fishies. The water was a lot deeper here than where Maya and I had snorkeled a couple of days before, and the water was also a lot choppier. This meant that we got pushed around with the waves a lot more, as did the fish, which were plentiful.
After a bit of snorkeling we climbed up onto the rocks, had a snack, and wandered around. Our laid back guide took us to see an eel, and then helped Maya and Pat to jump off a cliff. When landing, you were meant to have your legs straight out beneath you. Guess who mastered that and who landed ass first? I opted for not jumping off a cliff.
Then it was time to climb back into our kayaks, which, with some help, I managed to do without tipping us over. We headed back, this time with Pat and I managing to stay far away from the dangerous rocks... so far away that we were much further out than everyone else, going over massive swells, with me completely petrified that a whale would pop up beside us to say 'Hi!' We stopped at a sea cave that normally the tour goes into, but they didn't go in this time. I'm guessing because the ocean was a bit rougher than usual. It was at the sea cave that Pat and I learned how to do a U-turn, thereby making the rest of our trip much, much easier! We even managed to nail our landing, with me paddling solo.
Once we got back to shore, we dropped the parents off at Costco and headed over to Subway for lunch, where we put the 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem' philosophy to test. Home Depot also did not require the wearing of clothing.
That afternoon Mary took Pat, Maya and I back to Mauna Kea Beach where there were some serious waves happening! The three of us swam out into the ocean and bobbed up and down on the massive swells for awhile, until Maya got the idea that we ride in on the waves.
It took us a few tries to get it right, but soon Maya and I were body surfing some pretty decent waves into shore. It was a ridiculous amount of fun! And completely addictive. We'd make our way out to where we thought the waves would break, then watch for the biggest swells, start paddling, and enjoy the ride. Sometimes we soar high on the top of a crest, and sometimes we got sucked under into the rip. I know I did a fair few under water somersaults and was very thankful I've mastered the art of not breathing in whilst under water. Pat came in to join us, and we rode the waves until our knees bled and we were completely exhausted.
I started out our body surfing expedition with my hat and my sunnies on. But doing underwater somersaults meant having to remember not to breath in, figure out how to get my feet on the ground so I could stand up, AND hold on to my hat and sunnies. After one particularly rough somersault I managed to grab hold of my hat before it was lost to the rip, only to surface and realize I was no longer wearing my awesome new sunnies! I shuffled around in the water for a bit in hopes of finding them, and at one point I thought I had found them, but when I reached over to pick them up, I was knocked over by an incoming wave. I figured my sunnies were lost to Davey Jones' Locker, made my peace with it, and went back out. I even saw them again as I was riding in on another big wave, but the tide was too strong for that to give me much hope of finding them again.
But then, in comes Patrick, walking through the water all looking like Jesus, when what does he step on? My sunnies! There was much hugging and high fiving when he pulled them up out of the ocean, thereby christening them my miracle sunnies. I put them safely away with the rest of our stuff on the beach before surfing any more waves. Thank goodness for Pat and his ability to find things with his feet!
I've always thought that kayaking looked like heaps of fun, but been terrified to do it. Up until I started swimming, my upper body strength was pretty much non existent. It's still nowhere near where I'd like it to be, but I'm working on that. The other reasons kayaking terrified me was because my balance is like, even more non existent than my upper body strength, so I was sure I'd be flipping the kayak ever 5 minutes. And as much as I love swimming, I love doing it in a pool, far far far away from dolphins and the like.
It was two people to a kayak, so Pat and I went in one, and Maya and John went in another. John, being the athlete that he is, had their kayak off and running in no time. Him and Maya looked like they'd been kayaking all their lives, so I can't really say I blame John for disowning Pat and I...
The strongest rower was meant to sit in the back as they are responsible for steering, so our guides told me to get in the front and Pat in the back of the kayak. Which we did, for about 1 second. As soon as I got in, I tipped us over. Suddenly our guides thought I'd be better off in the back. This did nothing to appease my fear that we would capsize in the middle of the ocean.
We were instructed to row out to the buoy, then stop and wait for instructions on how to kayak. OK, sure, except... how do we get TO THE BUOY?!?!? With John yelling instructions at us, Pat and I set off on our ocean misadventure. With no concept of steering, we completely missed the buoy, nearly got ran over by a large boat, completely missed the instructions on how to kayak, and nearly gave one of our guides a coronary. The younger, more laid back guide was instructed to "get those people under control," as Pat and I headed straight for the big rocks we were meant to stay far, far away from.
With a heroic amount of over steering, we managed to avoid the death and/or serious injury we seemed so keen on finding when we first set out. The total trip was probably about 4km, but I reckon Pat and I paddled a good 6km. It was, without a doubt, the best workout of my life! My arms were pumped and I felt like there was nothing I couldn't do if I set my mind to it (except possibly open my right hand, which was claw shaped from gripping onto the oar for dear life for about a week). Kayaking has become my motivation to kick my fitness drive into high gear this year. I'm going to get myself a full gym membership and make the rowing machine my new BFF.
Now, there was some significance to the place we kayaked to, but I have no idea what it is because the scenic route didn't come with a tour guide. Something to do with a burial ground for a big Hawaiian war over women's rights. I'm sure I would have found it all very fascinating. We stopped at a rocky ledge where the kayaks were tethered together and anchored. Here we had an hour to do some snorkeling, grab a snack, jump off a cliff, and do some exploring. All that was asked was that we not swim into the big jagged rocks where the big waves were crashing in. Fortunately, outside of a kayak, I am not completely navigation impaired. When I told this to our more serious guide he cracked a smile, and I knew all was forgiven. Our guide also taught us a signal to let him know that we were OK, a signal which I'm pretty sure the four of us will use with each other for the rest of our lives.
We put on our snorkel masks and hopped out of our kayaks and checked out the fishies. The water was a lot deeper here than where Maya and I had snorkeled a couple of days before, and the water was also a lot choppier. This meant that we got pushed around with the waves a lot more, as did the fish, which were plentiful.
After a bit of snorkeling we climbed up onto the rocks, had a snack, and wandered around. Our laid back guide took us to see an eel, and then helped Maya and Pat to jump off a cliff. When landing, you were meant to have your legs straight out beneath you. Guess who mastered that and who landed ass first? I opted for not jumping off a cliff.
Then it was time to climb back into our kayaks, which, with some help, I managed to do without tipping us over. We headed back, this time with Pat and I managing to stay far away from the dangerous rocks... so far away that we were much further out than everyone else, going over massive swells, with me completely petrified that a whale would pop up beside us to say 'Hi!' We stopped at a sea cave that normally the tour goes into, but they didn't go in this time. I'm guessing because the ocean was a bit rougher than usual. It was at the sea cave that Pat and I learned how to do a U-turn, thereby making the rest of our trip much, much easier! We even managed to nail our landing, with me paddling solo.
Once we got back to shore, we dropped the parents off at Costco and headed over to Subway for lunch, where we put the 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem' philosophy to test. Home Depot also did not require the wearing of clothing.
That afternoon Mary took Pat, Maya and I back to Mauna Kea Beach where there were some serious waves happening! The three of us swam out into the ocean and bobbed up and down on the massive swells for awhile, until Maya got the idea that we ride in on the waves.
It took us a few tries to get it right, but soon Maya and I were body surfing some pretty decent waves into shore. It was a ridiculous amount of fun! And completely addictive. We'd make our way out to where we thought the waves would break, then watch for the biggest swells, start paddling, and enjoy the ride. Sometimes we soar high on the top of a crest, and sometimes we got sucked under into the rip. I know I did a fair few under water somersaults and was very thankful I've mastered the art of not breathing in whilst under water. Pat came in to join us, and we rode the waves until our knees bled and we were completely exhausted.
I started out our body surfing expedition with my hat and my sunnies on. But doing underwater somersaults meant having to remember not to breath in, figure out how to get my feet on the ground so I could stand up, AND hold on to my hat and sunnies. After one particularly rough somersault I managed to grab hold of my hat before it was lost to the rip, only to surface and realize I was no longer wearing my awesome new sunnies! I shuffled around in the water for a bit in hopes of finding them, and at one point I thought I had found them, but when I reached over to pick them up, I was knocked over by an incoming wave. I figured my sunnies were lost to Davey Jones' Locker, made my peace with it, and went back out. I even saw them again as I was riding in on another big wave, but the tide was too strong for that to give me much hope of finding them again.
But then, in comes Patrick, walking through the water all looking like Jesus, when what does he step on? My sunnies! There was much hugging and high fiving when he pulled them up out of the ocean, thereby christening them my miracle sunnies. I put them safely away with the rest of our stuff on the beach before surfing any more waves. Thank goodness for Pat and his ability to find things with his feet!
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