Ramblings

Its a shit storm out there...

2009-12-09T12:42:00.000-04:00

I'm having one of the shittiest of shit days, so I'm going to throw a pitty party to liven things up.

I fucking hate it here. I have my reasons and I'm tired of justifying them to everyone. Lets just say that when I met someone at another posting who exclaimed "I hate it here." I couldn't understand her reasoning, but I didn't judge her for it. She had different experiences that she was used to. Adaption to her new posting was difficult for her and I felt she was entitled to her own opinion. That same lady, who is now posted back to her home province is one of few people who understand where I'm coming from. She doesn't understand my reasons for hating it here, but she doesn't try to change my mind either.

I am tired of being lectured about having to "make the best of any posting." I loved our time in St-Jean, I have fond memories and not-so-fond memories. I enjoyed St-Jean while I was there. Would I want to go back? Not likely, but I made the best of it while there...even though I didn't speak French and didn't have any friends and was VERY new to the military life. I think I adapted well. I adapted really well to Oromocto and Moncton as well.

I think my adaption program caught a virus when we moved to Petawawa. I just can't make it work. I just can't keep my chin up. I just plain HATE it here. Some days I question my own reasoning. I have "good days" when I think I'll come to like the area eventually, but those are rare and sparse.

I am told on a regular basis that there is "lots here for families, you just have to go out and find it" But all I've been able to find is expensive gymnastics clubs, swimming lessons, and other such costly activities. The cheapest activities around are the fitness classes at the RecPlex, but I'm not a fitness class kind of girl. Never have been. Likely because the majority of the types that go to fitness classes are much like the types I went to high school with. For them, fitness classes or the volleyball team was about socialization and popularity, not about athleticism or exercise.

I've always been athletic, I was one of the stars of my junior high basketball and volleyball teams. But when I tried out for the high school teams I was cut and instead they picked up a couple of girls that had never played the games before in their lives, but happened to be tall and popular. Tell me that hasn't scarred me for life. "I don't care that you can bump, set and serve better than them, I don't care that you can rebound and lay-up consistently, they are taller than you and can reach over the net/ring." I think that is why I like the show "Glee" so much. I can relate to all the "Glee club losers."

So, when it comes to exercise, I'll stick to running. It is one sport where there aren't many cliques. Most people in the sport are MOP (Middle of the Pack-ers) or BOP (Back of the Pack-ers) and even the Elites or the Age Group Placers are more than happy to cheer on and support and lend advice to the BOPers and the MOPers. If you post a personal best that is three hours slower than someone else in that distance, you are not shunned for being slow, you are praised for having stuck it out and done your best. But I digress...

Time to go to the store to stalk up on storm supplies...I need more alcohol to make it through the winter here.

Dusting off the Cobwebs

2009-04-17T11:12:00.002-03:00

I tend to get inspired to write when I go through a major life change (no, I'm not turning into a man) or have had a recent trauma or experience through which I've grown as a person. Lets see if I can keep things going this time.

We are being posted out of Moncton. As a result, we have to list the house for sale. This is the first house we ever bought and therefore, it is the first one we'll ever sell. Real Estate is a new game to us and our learning curve has been steep.

I spent almost a month cleaning my house. I've never been the greatest housekeeper, more clutter than anything, and laundry is the bane of my existence, but this has been a ridiculous effort just to be able to move. So far, we've thrown out 15 bags of garbage, and filled a friend's garage with storage stuff.

Today the Realtor came by to take pictures to finish the listing process. Hopefully by some time this afternoon I'll see how the house will look to the general public. Here's hoping there will be a SOLD sign up soon, I hate not having a breadbox on my counter for my bread...I'm lost without it.

For the Military Wife

2007-08-03T00:48:00.000-03:00

I found this on a Facebook group. I like it, so I am posting it.

Military Wives

I would like to recognize these often underestimated, unseen, and unheard heroes.

*This is for the sad military wives, the angry military wives, and the strong military wives.

*This is for the young women that are waking up at 6 a.m. every morning, laying out clothes and packing three lunches for those small precious children that they have been left alone to care for.

*This is for the pregnant military wife wondering if her husband will make it home in time to watch their miracle happen

*This is for the childless military wife, living in a town or on a base alone where she is a complete stranger to her surroundings.

*This is for the women that feel like a third leg when they go out with their friends and their husbands.

*This is for the military wife that canceled all her plans to wait by the phone, and even though the phone broke up and cut off every time you spoke to him you waited anyway.

*This is a pledge to the women that cry themselves to sleep in an empty bed.

*This is to recognize the woman that felt like she was dying inside when he said he had to go, but smiled for him anyway.

*This is for those of you that are faithfully in that long line at the post office once a month, handling 2 large boxes and 2 small children like a pro.

*This is for that woman that decided to remodel the house to pass time, and then realized that she had no idea what she was doing and sighed and wished she had a little help.

*This is for all the lonely nights, all the one-person dinners, and all of the wondering thoughts because you haven't heard from him in days.

*A toast to you for falling apart and putting yourselves back together. Because a pay check isn't enough, a body pillow in your bed is no consolation, and a web cam can never compare.

*This is for all of you no matter how easy or hard this was for you. Our Soldiers/Airmen/Sailors are brave, they are heroes, but so are we.So the next time someone tells you that they would never marry a military guy, don't bother explaining to them that you can't control who you fall in love with.

*Just think of this and nod your head, know that you are the stronger woman.

*Hold your heads up high, hang that flag in your front yard, stick 100 magnets on your car, and then give yourself a pat on the back.

CdnArtyWife

2007-07-31T23:54:00.001-03:00

Close to Home

2007-07-05T21:25:00.000-03:00

Well, it was inevitable wasn't it? Probabilities dictated that eventually I would personally know a fallen soldier.

It has happened. Someone whom I've known for 6 years, who trained at the same time as my husband, Scotty.

Captain Jefferson Francis, of 1 Royal Canadian Horse Artillery in Shilo, MB was one of 6 Canadian soldiers who died (along with an Afghan interpreter) when the RG-31 Nayala armoured vehicle hit an IED on 4 July, 2007.

Jefferson, ha! It is funny to hear him called that. He was "just Jeff". And frankly the picture, as good as it is, doesn't do him justice. He was a very good looking man...and where ever he went, the ladies swooned. Problem was, he knew it...and milked it. But why not, who wouldn't. And frankly who couldn't fall for a guy with so many freckles and a good heart...never mind the rockin' body he had. Hahaha!

Yeah, I looked. I couldn't help it. But when you got to know Jeff and his personality you didn't see the good looking guy anymore. You saw the dedicated, "hard core" army guy who...had one weakness; women.

That weakness got him too, because as was inevitable one managed to get him to settle down...and they had a child together too. Jeff was very proud of his "kid" and showed people pictures whenever he could make them stand still long enough.

Scotty had seen Jeff just on Saturday, but he will be with him for the next while anyway. Scotty has the task of bringing Jeff home.

I'm glad Jeff will be accompanied by a friend.

Mourning the Loss of a Friend

2007-07-05T00:12:00.000-03:00

This morning I was given some grave news. The news of 6 more Canadian soldiers fallen in Afghanistan. This comes at a time when those who's tour is in the "home stretch" have been given their return home dates and the friends and families are all excitedly making plans for homecoming parties and private celebrations. I know, I am one of them.

So today's news hit harder than any before. Harder so than Easter. Though, that was no walk in the park either.

As I spent the day surrounding myself with friends in my "support network" so as to keep my mind off the biggest news item of the day, I find myself thinking of another "friend" that had once been an integral part of a different support network. The people in my "run club" came to mind. "I wonder if anyone posted the news item...I hope no one is worried about me or Scotty...I'll probably have a few messages waiting for me when I get home." Sure enough, I walk through the door and there on my phone is a familiar number from Ontario. Someone was, indeed, worried about me.

Of course, as any good friend would do, I had to reassure those on my run club website that I was okay and not directly affected by today's sad news. In doing so I was affronted by some things that made me furious. I felt my heart race and my blood pressure rise. But I bit my tongue and reminded myself that the wonderful thing about Canada is that we are all welcome and entitled to differing political views. In fact, I hold a lot of respect for people who can disagree with the mission but still support the troops. I also have respect for those who disagree with both aspects, as long as they present their argument articulately and with an educated background on the subject. I have difficulty respecting people who spout off with political rhetoric and refuse to see the other side of the coin.

I am an empathetic person by nature. I tend to put myself in other people's shoes and try to look at the world through their eyes when I don't understand something or have differing opinions. And thus I become frustrated with people who don't hold the same respect for my position.

But I digress. Over the past year I have slowly yet continually slipped into the shadows of the run club forum, at times just choosing to lurk, setting my profile to hide my online status and so on. It has been especially noticeable in the past few months. I don't run, and I don't feel I belong. Tonight I witnessed an exchange, started by someone else, fueled by my own posts, and then carried away that broke the proverbial camel's back.

A thread to share the news of, and then condolences for today's fallen "heroes" became a political debate on whether "we" should mourn the loss of soldiers or debate the politics of the war in that thread or take it elsewhere. I didn't see this as disrespectful to the fallen or their families, nor did I see it as disrespectful of those in the membership that are currently serving overseas and their families (myself and Scotty included). I did, however, see it as inappropriate.

Then someone wrote:

In fact, I am very much against our involvement. That doesn't prevent me feeling strongly about what the soldiers are subjected to in the name of our government.

With respect to your argument that there should be one of these every day to honour others, maybe this happens for the soldiers because there are people we know over there and there are people on this board who have spouses and other family members over there doing a job that is inherently more dangerous than most and who are considerably more likely to be killed doing that job. People start threads about things that affect them or people they know.

There's nothing wrong with discussion of political ideals or religious ideals or anything else. Please choose an appropriate time to do it ... start a thread. Allow people to mourn without having to deal with someone getting on a soapbox. You don't have to respond to every comment that espouses a point of view with which you disagree.

I felt as if this person were standing up to the schoolyard bully for me. Admittedly I wrote a comment in my initial post that could be seen as quite political. But I did it in response to the fact that one person had posted a link that others felt was too political and that poster's response was "perspective". Well, if he is entitled to post his perspective, I am entitled to mine.

Unfortunately the childish behavior continued with this:

"You don't have to respond to every comment that espouses a point of view with which you disagree."

I think I'll make this my signature (in bold no less) so nobody can ever rebut any comment I ever make from now on...

When somebody posts some hardcore propaganda links into a thread like this knowing they'll be shielded from dissent by a "let's not talk politics" sentimentality, don't you feel used?

Don't respond to that. Don't be difficult.

Ironically, I had made up my mind I was finished with my run club long before this post. But now the coffin is sealed, and I said my goodbyes in a private message to the person that "stood up to the bully"

My last visit to http://www.runningmania.com/ was to receive the reply to my private message: (I hope the author does not mind my sharing it)

I would be very sorry to see you go. You don't have to be a runner to be here, you know? A few on here readily admit they don't run much, but they, and you, are appreciated for the friendship and fun you bring. People really like you and I'd hate to think that the words of a few would warp your view of the rest of us.

I ask you to reconsider. You don't have to post much if you don't want to, but maybe it just takes jumping in to the occasional thread to get you going.

Whatever you decide, thank you for what you have meant to us all and take care.

I know that a few bad apples don't spoil the bunch in this case. I know that there are plenty of good folk who mean well and have been very supportive to me in many ways. I thank them for it, but they also know of other means by which they can keep in touch with me. So I've made my decision to break from RunningMania once and for all. But I was so surprised at the grief I felt.

It is as though I really had lost one of my best friends today. Ironically on a day when Canada lost 6 of her finest.

Block Party??

2007-05-31T09:14:00.001-03:00

I've been known in the past to vent on my blog about my neighbours...and I guess today I will do it again. This is a different neighbour, one no one has heard about as of yet...but there is no time like the present to start.

These neighbours that I have...well they are hard to describe. They are not extremely private people...but they don't share everything about themselves...which is good...it's not like I want or need to hear everyone's woes. But see, we rarely see him...but she is out and about all the time. Apparently he keeps sending her on "assignments" and when I do see her out...she's usually got some young guy with her...she claims this young guy is some sort of "intern" but he looks far too young to be a doctor if you ask me. Whenever the neighbour guy talks about his wife...I get the feeling he's not referring to the female we've all come to associate him with...I'm starting to wonder if they've got some sort of swinging social thing going on.

Far be it for me to get caught up in neighbourhood gossip, but you can't help it around here. I mean these people think nothing of telling everyone who will listen about what happened at staff parties at their work, or what social functions they are going to...almost like they want you to think they are the social elite of Moncton. They certainly like to spread gossip themselves too...but they usually stick to entertainment and pop culture gossip...though they call it "news". And every Saturday they give us all a synopsis of their week in "highlights and soundbites" just in case we missed anything through the week. I mean, do these people really think they are that important in our lives?

They must be, cus I've found myself increasingly happy to wake up to them blasting music and chitchatting every day. I even go to their website regularly, where they will allow anyone to listen in on them. Talk about exhibitionists! I've tried to call them on a few occaisions to invite them to a neighbourly BBQ or to attend a hockey game with me...but you can never get through. These people are really popular...and almost have celebrity status.

I can see the appeal of these neighbours though, they are very charismatic and have a great sense of humour. I mean she will openly admit to having a special crush on Gary Busey....Gary Busey, folks! One of the odd quirks this couple has is knowing every "National day of whatever" everyday. I often wonder if they make it up...they did have a "Gary Busey day", I mean surely we don't have a National Gary Busey day in Canada, right? But some of these days are believable; International Think Positively Day, International Popcorn Day, etc.

So I guess it is with sadness that I will be moving out of the neighbourhood, but something tells me that I will still hear lots from these people...its not like I'm going far...just up to the North End...maybe they'll still let me listen in on them...Rumor has it, they've got a system that will let me listen to them on the radio. I just have to tune in to 94.5 FM in the mornings.

Scotty and Kate, I think you guys are the greatest neighbours! ...Even if you do have some odd quirks...

How bad do you want it?

2007-04-05T23:08:00.000-03:00

So, I’ve landed myself into a nasty downward spiral, and in the last few days it seems impossible to regain control and pull out of the “flatspin”.

I’ve come to realize that though step one is acknowledging the big elephant on the table, the hardest step is trying to figure out what to do with it. Its easy to get caught up saying, “yup, I know that is an issue, I know what the problem is, but I’ll just keep ignoring it for a while cus I don’t want to have to breakout the ol’ chainsaw to cut it up into small bite sized pieces. Cus frankly...we know the chainsaw needs oiling...and that is after I’ve dug through the garbage and clutter in the garage to find it. Then I have to find the gas can and go buy some gas.” You see what I’m saying here, seeing and acknowledging a problem at hand seems to be the easy part. Especially when you already know how easy the solution is. The most difficult part is setting up the environment for success to make the solution easy. Sometimes that is the overwhelming part.

So here is my elephant. My life, in general, is getting out of control. I’m letting life’s circumstances control me instead of the other way around. A friend told me just this past weekend, “Don’t worry about the condition of the house, in the grand scheme of things, a messy house doesn’t matter. But being present for your kids does...so if the housework gets put off, it gets put off.” That is great advice...if my housework were being put off cus I was busy being present with my kids. However, lately, I’ve spent my days on autopilot; get up, check email, take Bubs to school, drop Phia at childcare, check email, workout, check email, forget to eat lunch, panic at amount of laundry, check email, pick Bubs up from school, check email, take Bubs to Taekwondo, pick Phia up on way home, check email, scramble to make supper, panic at state of house and clutter, put kiddos to bed, check email while watching tv, think about having glass of wine, gorge on chocolate instead, check email, go to sleep, get up, check email....

So, I’ve acknowledged that I need to regain control, and in order to do this, I have realized that I need to make a checklist of steps to take. This is so that I can mark items off my list and start feeling a sense of accomplishment while regaining my life back. My problem is that I think about all the things that have to get done, and I panic about prioritizing them....here I go again, letting perfectionism get in the way.

Oh, I don’t claim to be perfect, not by a long shot. In fact, perfectionism isn’t about being perfect, it is about doing it perfectly or not doing it at all....it is an all or nothing mentality...and it is paralizing. For instance, I can’t just make a To Do list...I have to itemize the tasks by category and subcategory, then I have to break it down into individual steps. I get so caught up in making my To Do list easy to do, and follow, that I get overwhelmed at how my To Do list is set up, and making it look pretty that I give up on the tasks and I haven’t even started them...I’ve only just started to break them down into micro-tasks.

A perfect example is tackling the blah and unorganized feeling in my bedroom. I start with what I want for an end result: fresh new decor and a clean bedroom so I can truely relax and get a good night’s sleep. But I can’t keep it just as simple as tidying my room and painting the walls, no. I have to:
· strip the bed,
· wash the linnens,
· flip the mattress,
· pickup the garbage,
· take the laundry down to the basement,
· sort laundry,
· wash,
· dry,
· reboot laundry (another load),
· fold laundry,
· put away laundry,
· reorganize my closet,
· go through clothes,
· throw out old ill fitting clothes,
· reorganize Scott’s closet (Why? I dunno, cus it is there),
· throw out old worn clothes,
· clean off surfaces,
· clean out jewelry box (why? Cus it is there),
· dust surfaces,
· wash walls,
· sweep floor,
· wet mop floor,
· vaccum rug,
· buy paint,
· buy painting supplies,
· take down curtains,
· wash curtains,
· take down fixtures from wall,
· tape the trim,
· paint walls,
· paint trim,
· paint doors,
· move furniture around,
· rehang fixtures/pictures,
· buy new bedding,
· make bed,
· rehang curtains.

So as you can see, I have a habit of making a Mount Everest out of an ant hill. The good news is, when I see it broken down like that, in little individual steps, I feel like I can conquer anything. Now all I gotta do is go with it and get started before I get thinking about it and get all worked up again.

With that said, I picked up some paint today, on Tuesday I bought the new bedding...and tomorrow I have a whole day of laundry and cleaning ahead of me. My plan is to have the bedroom the way I want it by the end of the Easter weekend. The rest of the house can continue on that downward spiral for now, cus once I can cross off all 37 items on that list, I will be on a roll and the rest of the house will follow.

I guess what it boils down to is: How bad do you really want it? Cus if you want something bad enough, you can climb that proverbial Mount Everest...even if you have to find the ant hill to do so.

Like the Energizer Bunny...

2007-03-21T00:55:00.000-03:00

I just keep going, and going and going...

Well, it has been a while since I blogged. But no news is good news, right? Once I finally got up off my duff and stopped feeling sorry for myself and my situation I filled my schedule to keep busy. I didn't do this conciously of course. I think I would prefer a day or two to be able to relax enough with a glass of wine and a bubble bath, but as it stands right now, I just don't have the time, or energy.

Between my commitments to the Military Family Resource Center, schlepping the kids to Taekwando and Ballet, and taking some time for myself for working out at the gym and getting some runs in here and there, I have just been going non-stop. Throw in a couple social evenings either at the Mess or out with the Regiment and I'm into overdrive.

If only I could bottle this and sell it, I'd be rich. I'd also be rich if I charged a fee everytime I had to sign a cheque, form, statement or report. The government fiscal year is at a close and a new one is looming...so, I've been warming up my hands and fingers for the stacks of paperwork that require my John Hancock so as not to develop Carpel Tunnel issues.

I am not the only one in this plight. When the kids crash, they crash hard...jelly-neck-head-bobbing and drooling in the back of the van, and especially difficult to rowse in the mornings...though, the time change may have something to do with that.

We are actually so busy, that the poor fellow who was assigned to us by the regiment as our "sponsor" (someone who just recently came back from tour and is our readily available handy-heavylifter-do-it-all surrogate hubby for us wives) couldn't even get a hold of me. Not for lack of trying, mind you. The guy called at least a half dozen times, and on the last message he left he insisted he wasn't a stalker. But he took it as a sign that I am not sitting, pining by the phone or computer longing for contact from Scotty.

My sister (K1) mentioned to me that civilians tend to have an idea that that is what us military wives do. This is mostly because the media only shows the tearfull farewells and reunions and tells the heartwrenching stories. I mean really, who wants to hear about Jane Bloggins getting along just fine without her hubby around? But in actuality that is what we do. We get along just fine. Yeah we worry, but we don't show the kids our worry. We are confident and supportive while the kids are awake. It is after they fall peacefully asleep dreaming about the next time they get to webcam with daddy that we let ourselves cry in the privacy of our bedrooms.

Don't get me wrong, we aren't sniffeling every night. But we don't have stone-cold hearts either. It is when the simple things have built up to a breaking point that we finally give in to the cry sessions.

Essentially having a loved one deployed is like an odd form of sensory deprivation.

Sight: yeah we can webcam...maybe once every couple of weeks. But for the most part...we start to forget what they look like.

Sound: I, for one, miss the sound of the tv flipping from music channel to music channel to sports and then back to music again. I miss hearing the kids declairing a wrestling war in the livingroom while I make dinner. I miss the snoring, I never thought it would be difficult to fall asleep to silence.

Touch: The feel of an embrace and the security of a hug can be one of the biggest sanity savers out there. But when I'm frustrated cus my 5-going-on-30 year old is mouthing off at me, and the 4-going-on-14 year old has declaired that her shirt just isn't pink enough and now it is ruined, I have to settle for a hug from the dog...or a butt in my face from the cat.

Taste: Pancakes don't taste the same. I'm not normally the person who makes the weekend breakfasts in this house. My cook and my maid both left me to go get a really good tan. The same can be said for food at certain restaurants, in fact, there is one restaurant here I won't even go into without Scott...cus "food for the body, drink for the spirit and music for the soul" just ain't the same without him.

Smell: Don't forget that smell is the sense that is most tied to memory. Needless to say, I had a couple of Scotty's tshirts that I confiscated from the wash that still smelled like him. I wore them to bed for the first month. They don't smell like him anymore...so I've gone rooting through the closet to find something else. Gross, I know...but that's what we do.

So...I've rambled enough...but I will leave you with this: Scotty has been writing up a storm and is starting to get noticed...you can find some of his accomplishments at the links below.

Please note that most of the CBC links require RealPlayer to listen or watch.

His interview with CBC Information Morning in Moncton can be found here: http://www.cbc.ca/informationmorningmoncton/int_archives/2007_mar.html

His run report was published in the Oromocto Post Gazette Saturday. Front page of the military section.
http://www.canadaeast.com/weeklies/postgazette/20070317/B01.pdf

His blog address is:
http://scottyswords.blogspot.com/

The piece he wrote about the ramp ceremony for Cpl Kevin Megeney is published on CBC.ca here:
http://www.cbc.ca/canada/new-brunswick/background/afghanistan-atlantic/witness-farewell.html

And parts of that same piece were used as a voice over to video of the ramp ceremony at the end of the CBC's broadcast of the 6 o'clock news from Halifax. I will send you the link, but I am not sure it will work after today, I don't think they archive the news broadcasts and I am unable to save the file. If you can access the Friday 16 March edition of the broadcast, you will have to fast forward to the 55:37 mark to see the piece I'm referring to.

http://www.cbc.ca/video/popup.html?http://www.cbc.ca/ondemand/newsatsix/halifax.asx

I have been told to watch the Maple Leaf, the Times Transcript and possibly the Daily Gleaner as well for his articles to be published.

Enjoy the reading

I Want You To Live - George Canyon

2007-02-16T12:59:00.000-04:00

I am not a country music fan by any means, but a friend sent me this link to a video that is not to be missed.

http://www.georgecanyon.com/video.html

It grabs at your heartstrings and yanks pretty hard...but it poses an oportunity to discuss the feelings surrounding a CF deployment.

Take it from me, when you are a military spouse and your loved one is deployed overseas, each time you hear of an incident of wounded or fallen soldiers the following goes through your mind:

1. Is it my loved one?
2. Oh, good, relief it is not my loved one.
3. Is it someone we know?
4. Oh, good, it is not anyone we know.
5. Do they have family left behind? Those poor children, I feel for the family.
6. Now I feel guilty that I felt relief.
7. Oh, turns out I do know them...from another posting, another lifetime.
8. Now I feel more guilty that I felt relief.

9. I wonder if there is anything I can do for the family.

10. Please let my loved one come home safe.

When your loved one is not deployed overseas...you think all the same things, save for the first one.

I don't even want to think of what goes through your mind when you can answer yes to the first question.

Just Letting Off Some Steam

2007-02-12T00:21:00.000-04:00

Well, I figure I should just vent and let some stuff out. This is where I do it, and if I let it out now hopefully I can get on with things.

It hit me recently, ie this weekend, the gravity of it all. I think I finally came to realize that Scotty is gone. Gone to do his job, something I support wholeheartedly, but that doesn't make me miss him any less. It is odd how when he'd go away for an EX or a course I would look at it as a nice time to bond with the kiddos and live the way I want to live. There is freedom in not having to cook dinner if you don't want to. Freedom in having 100% control of the remote. Freedom in not having to share a bathroom, or the treadmill. Freedom in being able to order pizza for supper without having to agree on toppings. So in the past 4 years, as much as I missed Scotty and would sometimes complain about the frequency of his trips to the field or this course or that EX...I still kinda liked the time to do things my way.

It is all well and good, cus I was enjoying that freedom again this week. I ate what I wanted (even though I was supposed to follow a mealplan for my trainer), and I did absolutely NO housework. The kitchen floor looks like someone or something puked on it. I can't find the counters, there is a mixture of clean and dirty (kids) laundry strewn about the livingroom floor, I can't find the floor in my bedroom and the bathroom has a faint smell of urine. Essentially the house looks like SHIT. But I don't have to answer to anyone, it is just me and the kids...and they don't seem to mind.

This weekend, though, it hit me. WHAT IF....? What if I have to suddenly entertain one or several of my friends from Oromocto that may want to stop by to see how I'm doing? What if members of the Regiment pop by to check on us? Several people have threatened such an act. But my friends know me, and accept me for who I am. "Take me as you find me," I tell myself...but WHAT IF...? What if I have to answer the door at 2am? What if I have to invite people I don't want to see into my house out of the cold winter air?

I know in the grand scheme of things the possibilities of that is low. But the logical part of me can't stop the irrational part from letting those thoughts cross my mind. When the logical side does win...I feel guilt. Extreme guilt for being a wife who will very likely get her hubby back whole and alive. I know there will be wives who won't be so lucky. The law of probabilities say so. Probabilities also have it that I will likely know some of those wives. People I know, or with whom I have mutual acquaintances just from the mere fact that Gagetown is the mounting base for this Task Force. The probabilities would be there for the fact that I lived there for 4 years, never mind that I was extremely active at the MFRC and managed to meet alot of people over those years.

The other thing I am dealing with is the realization that this is six months...not just a short time. So all those freedoms that I thought I liked before, they quickly become burdens. Especially when the "fun parent" is the one that is gone. I don't do the "fun stuff," I don't engage nearly as well as Scott does. I don't "wrastle" with the kiddos. I am a snuggler, not a player. The kids will have to adapt to that...and they will. The dog, well, once warmer weather comes she'll be alright too. But man, oh man. She follows me around and whines...all she wants is for me to play. I'll throw a ball or her bunny every now and then, but I don't get down on the floor and wrestle her. I guess I'll have to give up some "freedom" and compromise a bit.

All I know right now at this moment is that thinking about the months ahead has started to trigger panic attacks. So I'll take this as a sign to contact the Deployment Support Center, talk to someone and see if I can't get this under control...I'm 6 days into a 6 month tour, I better get a grip. Soon.

Zombie

2007-02-06T18:39:00.000-04:00

Well, practically a year of anticipation came to a culmination yesterday when we said "See Ya Later" to Scotty. After many months of preparations, and three flight delays, we drove to Gagetown yesterday to see him off at D15 before he got on a bus heading for the airport.

The kids did well, they gave squeasy hugs and blew kisses and chanted an enthusiastic "See ya later, Daddy!!" as he walked out the door to the bus. I held up...I actually got teary-eyed once but surprisingly held things together well.

The rest of yesterday felt like we had just sent him off on yet another course or training exercise. It wasn't till I woke up this morning that it hit me. "Rehearsal is over, this is the real thing now." But I didn't have time to sit and dwell on it, or the feelings I was experiencing...I had to get Bubba to school, Phia to the babysitter and myself to the gym.

At one point this morning I could very well have gotten caught up doing some admin stuff for the MFRC. I tend to always put myself last anyway. But today I really welcomed the idea of some non-negotiable ME time at the gym with my trainer, Lindsay. It got me thinking though...perhaps I should make more ME time, and start putting me and the kids first...and take a much needed break from things for a while.

I dunno, maybe I just need a couple days to refocus....or perhaps a few months. We'll see. One thing I know for certain, my mental health comes first. So, if after I have established a routine with the kiddos and things still aren't coming together in other areas of my life, I will re-evaluate things.

In the meantime, I know that once the kiddos are in bed I'm gonna let myself have a nice big crying jag, get it out and over with. Only then will I be able to get on with things without wandering through the days as a zombie.

Body Clutter Mission #3

2007-01-29T15:54:00.000-04:00

29 Jan 07

What excuses do you make to yourself for having Body Clutter? Don't hold back! List them all!

I don't want to "deny" myself.
I love food, I enjoy the taste
It will be hard to make healthy decisions while eating at restaurants or out at social functions.
I enjoy my wine, I don't want to give it up.
I am a runner, I need "recovery" food.
I've tried this before and only just gotten so far...I won't reach my goals this time either, so what's the use.
I like to see results, I tend to think that I should see results quicker than realistically possible. If I don't see results right away I tend to quit.
I don't think I have it in me. I lack the will power and drive to lose the weight.
I like my lifestyle the way it is, I don't want to make changes.
I don't like that when I try to eat healthy and control my portions the people around me don't have to do the same. I feel like I am punishing myself, and I get jealous that they can eat what they want.
I'm too lazy to prepare fresh vegetables and fruit. It takes too much effort.
Fresh vegetables just rot in my fridge cuz I don't eat them, so it is a waste of money.
I can't control my portions unless they are prepacked food like Lean Cuisine, and that is too expensive.
I can't afford to buy new clothes as I lose weight. Besides, I hate shopping anyway, trying on clothes with two kids in tow is not fun.
Scotty loves me for me, he loves me for the way I am, not for what I look like. (And he even says that he finds me sexy just the way I am)
I don't like being told what to eat and what not to eat. I am a grown adult and can make my own decisions and deal with the consequences.

It is more than obvious that I have a serious disease. Excuse-itis. OIY! I know all the above excuses are full of bull and I have to reverse them around, so that I can believe and achieve my goals.

I will work on that, but right now, I have to spend some quality time with my hunny and soul mate before he leaves.

Body Clutter Control Journal Mission #3

2007-01-28T15:05:00.000-04:00

Do you feel pretty? If you answer no, then write about how you feel about the way you look. Two things to remember: no one is going to read this, and you are not allowed to be mean to yourself. Do not allow your perfectionism to keep you from your journey to discover the Body Clutter you have hiding deep inside.

How many years’ worth of clothes do you have in you closet? And, better yet, how many sizes? What words do you hear in you head when you look in your closet when you look at the clothes that do not fit?

Do you get dressed to shoes first thing in the morning?

Have you ever felt embarrassed by your weight? Write about how you felt and what caused your shame.

Have you used your body clutter as a shield? In what way, and who or what were trying to protect yourself from?

Sometimes I feel pretty. I like my face, though more and more I see my older sisters looking back at me from the mirror. At times I will catch myself making mannerisms reminiscent of my mother. Just goes to show you that no matter how much we fight the inevitable, we still turn into our parents. But I digress. I am supposed to be writing about self-image.

I like my face. I love my hairstyle. I hate my body. It is as simple as that. For the most part I don’t feel pretty, not from the neck down anyway. I don’t like that my belly hangs like an apron over itself (thanks to two c-sections in 18 months), I don’t like that my once perky breasts are now unable to resist the gravitational force of nature. I hate that when I wear jeans or pants without stretch waists I have what is referred to as a “muffin top”. I feel like it is pointless to try to dress stylishly because if I am able to find stylish clothes that fit, they still don’t fit well, or you can see my three spare tires. I especially hate that I can’t comfortably wear a bathing suit without feeling as if I look like I already have my floaty tube secured around my waist.

I am trying not to be mean to myself. I am just stating my feelings. I learned a long time ago that we can’t apologize for our feelings, only for how we act upon them. One thing I do know, my personality makes me beautiful, despite how I look on the outside…I am absolutely gorgeous on the inside and no one can change that.

Most of my clothes don’t fit. I have some jeans (size 12 Calvin Klein’s) that I am holding onto for wishful thinking. “Fortunately fashion has come around again that peg leg jeans are back in, so if I can get back down into them I’ll be stylin!” Yeah, right! You have to be Twiggy to look good in peg-legs. I have recently discovered that most of my blouses don’t fit. Apparently I over-inflated my spare tire and the blouses that I wore comfortably just months ago now strain at the buttons. My closet has clothing that range in sizes from 12-16. I refuse to get rid of them because I am determined I will be wearing them again soon. But in the meantime, it depresses me to see my favorite pair of capris taunting me every time I open that closet door. It is very disappointing to a gal that tries to dress stylishly to see clothes that don’t fit, and those that do are way too ugly to want to wear anyway.

I do get dressed to the shoes through the week, I have to, someone has to take Nathaniel to school and that someone is me. I have recently set up my day that I get dressed, get out the door and keep going until about noon. I do have a hard time getting dressed to the shoes on the weekends though as those are my lazy days. Although I have to admit, I got dressed to my running shoes today, and went on the treadmill for a 20 minute run before doing anything else. I’ll take a pat on the back for that one!

I feel embarrassed about my weight almost daily. Every time I put my jeans on and I can’t hide my “muffin top”, but especially when I put on my workout clothes which, by nature, is close fitting, or my all-too-revealing bathing suit. I avoid swimming and going to the beach so that I don’t have to subject myself to a bathing suit.

I don’t know if I’ve ever used my Body Clutter as a shield. At this time, I don’t think I have. But I am not closed to more introspection on that subject. I am not so naive to think that I never have. I am just at a loss to think of a time right now.

My message to Scotty while he's away:

2007-01-26T21:41:00.000-04:00

"Keep Holding On"

Avril Lavigne

You're not alone
Together we stand
I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand
When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There's no place to go
You know I won't give in
No I won't give in

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through
So far awayI wish you were here
Before it's too late, this could all disappear
Before the doors close
And it comes to an end
With you by my side I will fight and defend
I'll fight and defend
Yeah, yeah

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

Hear me when I say, when I say I believe
Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny
Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
La da da da
La da da da
La da da da da da da da da

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through

Keep holding on
Keep holding on

There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it
through

Body Clutter Mission #2

2007-01-26T21:04:00.000-04:00

20 Jan 07

What is your image of beautiful?

Write down the list of diet schemes that you have tried and put down how you did with them and what you felt about them.

Next, go back to your teenage years and write down what you remember about your weight. You can reconstruct your life according to what you weighed when something big happened in your life: Graduation, marriage, birth, moving, promotion, etc. If you have “weight amnesia,” then write down what you can remember. When you have finished, try to associate areas of weight gain to what was going on in your life.

Do you have any health issues related to your weight? Diabetes, joint problems, foot problems, or anything else you can think of.

My image of beautiful is a strong, muscular, yet still feminine body. I appreciate the look of sculpted muscular arms; abs and legs, where you can see the definition but not so much that you see the striations.

I have tried:

Tony Little’s workout tapes - (upper and lower body) I yelled at the TV.
TaiBo tapes – uh…too much work and sweat
Weight Watchers - (felt limited and hungry)
SlimFast – why did I think drinking my meals would work?
Thermogenic pills - (loved them, but didn’t do anything besides…so they didn’t do much)
Base Gym - St-Jean-S-R ~ lost approx 30 lbs using Eliptical machines for cardio and not really watching my food intake (I think it was the breast feeding, it certainly wasn’t the Sucre a la Crème!
Weight Watchers - (didn’t like being told what to eat or how to “spend my points”)
Dr. Phil’s Seven Keys to Weight Loss Freedom – Good in theory, but I could only just get so far in the book.
Base Gym - Gagetown (lasted for 3-4 weeks)
SparkPeople.com – didn’t follow the meal plan, fell off the wagon after a couple weeks
Base Gym - Gagetown (attempt #2) weights (lasted for 2-3 weeks)
Yoga and Pilates DVDs – Yoga did well until I fell down the basement stairs and broke my tailbone. Didn’t lose weight though.
Running - wow, loved it right up until I got injured then moved and lost all my consistency (but didn’t lose weight cus I ate everything in sight)
Nutrislim shakes – you’d think I’d have learned the first time…
eDiets.com – didn’t follow the meal plan, got tired of entering all my stuff on the computer, but got a great tool for the PDA
SparkPeople.com – again, but this time as part of a RunningMania weight loss movement. (I’m still not entering my stuff on the computer *sigh*)
Personal trainer – I start Wednesday! I am excited and looking forward to having the higher level of accountability and encouraged consistency.
Treadmill – buying one to keep the running consistent (hopefully it won’t become an expensive drying rack)

I’ve always been big. Dad always called me “Fatsy Darlin” I guess that is a term of endearment? Anyway I was a big girl on the rugby team in high school. But at least then I was active. I got to university and gained the freshman 25-30 instead of the typical 15. Alcohol consumption was my favorite pastime then. I moved back home and lived with Mum and Dad for a year; that was fun…I was busy working at UCP but I gained more weight and was 175 when I met Scotty. As we dated I became more and more complacent and less and less active. I was on my way to my all time (no pregnancy) high of 198 when we got married. I hit my heaviest just before I got preggers for Nathaniel. I gained 32 lbs with that pregnancy…right on target according to my doctors…but I would have liked to have gained less since I started so high. Oh well, I lost the baby weight within two weeks and the following 8 months saw me shrink another 30 lbs getting me to an all time low of 165 since high school. I was still fat…and I knew I could get lower, but it didn’t last and I started to creep up…then I found out why…I was pregnant again. No big deal…I didn’t have to try to get the weight off last time…it’ll just fall off me again this time right? NOT. I gained 28 lbs with Phia and topped out at 203 at full term, not too bad considering. But after she was born, those 28 lbs took 9 MONTHS to come off! In fact, it didn’t all come off. Scotty was coming and going with work, I was working and then I wasn’t. I eventually got complacent again with letting my weight creep up and then I took up running while Scotty was, yet again, away for work. Unfortunately I didn’t treat the running as a way to lose weight, I was just hoping that I had hit the magic button. “I’m running now, so I can eat anything” was my attitude. Then we moved to Moncton and I gained another 14 lbs, bringing me precariously close to that all time high again…this time I was 196 by the time I “got real”.

Now with Scotty leaving for work yet again, this time for a 6-month tour to Afghanistan I have set a goal to be a hot, muscular mama when he gets home. If I can do this now, I have no excuse not to succeed.

I don’t currently have any health issues related to my weight, however, Type 2 Diabetes runs in my family and I am sure that if I don’t get control of my weight now, I will be diagnosed within 10 years. Heart disease also runs in my family so if I can get fit now, I can hopefully out run my genetics.

Body Clutter Control Journal

2007-01-24T13:01:00.000-04:00

17 Jan 07

I’ve started a new book. I am reading the FlyLady’s newest book called Body Clutter – Love Your Body, Love Yourself, and well, though Dr. Phil and others all have very good books that ask you to search deep and get to the source of the weight problem, none have quite put it in such simple terms. As much as I knew I needed to “Get Real” about my weight and why I ate, I didn’t know where to start, even with Dr. Phil’s help. FlyLady is helping with that.

Body Clutter Mission #1

Look back at your first memory of comfort food. Is it a certain food or any food?

What is your favourite food when you need comforting?

Now, can you look back in your past to figure out why you love it so much?

Write down your first memory of using food to comfort yourself and what was happening to you and how you felt at the time.

BREAD is my comfort food.

My first memories involving food go back to being at potluck lunches at
church. Out of all the food choices there, I would fill my plate with bread and rolls, augmented by cheese and desert. Why? Because bread was the only thing I could be sure I would like. I was a finicky eater and I could trust bread. I would load up my pockets with rolls and buns and a few chunks of cheese and hang out in a back room while my father was running Parish Council meetings. Dad was busy, as was Mum, and I had my bread. While growing up we always had bread in the house, but we were not allowed to have white bread or “poof bread” as Dad called it. So when Dad was away, we were allowed to have any treat we wanted ~ Sugar Crisp, Corn Pops (we weren’t allowed sugared cereal either), oatmeal (Dad hated it), and my precious….my white bread.

Anytime I was sick my Mum would make me cinnamon toast, and when I was left to fend for myself while Mum worked and Dad was out doing parish visits, I would have 6-8 slices in various forms like cinnamon toast, pb&j sandwiches and the like. Bread was definitely a comfort food. It filled in the gaps while my parents were distant, it was spongy and soft…and always there. I could always trust that the breadbox was full, and if it wasn’t, there was more in the freezer.

Later in life, when Scotty and I would get down to the last $1.49 in our bank account and four days until the next payday, we still had bread…nothing to put on it, in traditional terms…we were out of peanut butter, but we had bread. Scotty would make a sandwich out of mayonnaise, mustard and relish, while I settled down with a nice butter sandwich. It made me warm and fuzzy inside despite that we had no food.

I still buy no less than 6 loaves at a time when I get groceries…I’ve run out of bread a few times in my life, and each of those times sent a pang of panic through me. If I run out of bread, I have really hit hard times.

What the hell am I doing???

2006-09-10T18:27:00.000-03:00

I've just come home from my first official event at the MMFRC as Board Chairperson, and although I am a person who loves to talk, and normally is not too bad about talking publicly about what I believe in...I bombed!!

As someone I respect might say "maybe this is a lesson I need to learn". I agree. Unfortunately I don't think the lesson is very obvious. There are some factors here that are just not clear. Others are ringing loud bells.

For instance, I know the Military Family Services Program like the back of my hand. I could draw out the Service Model in my sleep. I know what the liabilities and responsibilities that come with being a member of a Board of Directors. I know the program areas and their expected outcomes, I know the success indicators. I know it...I believe in it, and I could teach it.

BUT

I can't get anyone here to listen. The board doesn't know. They don't seem to care. They want me to fix everything for them. They all have opinions on how things are run, they have no problems telling me what they think needs to be done, but aren't willing to stand with me in the fight. So I have lost my passion. I don't want to be in this position. I want to be on a board, an MFRC board. But not here, not now.

I've worked very hard at surrounding myself with positive energy, and today I think I felt a lot of that positivity drain out of me, and the ol' cynicism creep back, so much so, that I did not want to be at the function, let alone stand up and speak to a crowd. So when I did take the mic, I stumbled and rambled and spoke in circles.

I did triumph though, at least I didn't cry!

It's Been a Long Time...

2006-08-29T00:48:00.000-03:00

And so much has happened since last time I blogged...

But tonight I got the urge, so here I go...I am not going to try to make up for lost time, nor am I going to try to fill in the blank spots. Instead I am just going to write about whatever comes to mind.

I've had a lot of late nights recently. More due to lack of self-discipline than lack of ability to sleep. When Scotty is away I am often found late at night, pounding away at the keyboard...surfing the net or just playing mindless games like The Sims. Though I have found myself returning to the ol' standby forums less and less as of late.

I think I've come to the conclusion that if Scotty and I could move away somewhere and cut off everything we knew and start fresh, leaving all the old ties behind...I would find myself happier than a pig in mud. I don't know why that is, but since our move to Moncton I have no desire to keep in touch with old friends (Sorry).

We pretty much did this when we lived in Quebec. Scotty had just joined the military and we put civilian life behind us, grew up and created our own family. We were english speaking people in a french speaking city and we were Uber Happy. Living by ourselves, with our tight circle of BOTC friends, having lazy afternoons at cafés and humid evenings playing Patonque. Blissfully existing on our own.

I've kind of done that here. Only I go to the familiar haunts, via the internet, and discover that I have changed enough that I have nothing in common with the people I once considered very close friends. When I think about it, it worries me that I can just shut my past and portions of my life off like that, but then I also know that I am happy making new friends where I go. And thus I have realized that I am more Zen Buddhist than I realized. That is, if you want to put a title to it, define it...

"The Master stays behind; that is why she is ahead.
She is detatched from all things; that is why she is one with them.
Because she has let go of herself, she is perfectly fulfilled." ~Tao te Ching

"In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don't try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you"~Tao te Ching

These are just a couple quotes that explain my sort of frame of mind as of late. I am finding myself letting go. And in doing so, my life is much simpler, much happier and I no longer live in chaos. It is a happy place. Some call it anti-social, others call it blissfull ignorance. I call it Peace.

And with that peace comes clarity...like, for instance, the ability to see when I have started to ramble and it is time to go to bed. Alas, I must sleep.

Army 10K Race Report

2006-06-24T14:31:00.000-03:00

There are a few pros and cons about being a "back of the pack-er". A couple of which I experienced today.

When you are at the back of the pack, you can check out all the nice "runner's butts" ahead of you. +1

When you are at the back of the pack, on an out and back course, you get to encourage those who are already on the way back. And get encouragement from them. +3

BUT that also means that when you are at the back of the pack, and you hit the turn around spot...you are all alone. -1

Being alone is good for some...but not for me...this is when the plethra of li'l devils pop out and start playing with my mind.

I was alone for a short part in the begining of the race, then I spent the next 3.5K encouraging all those who were running past me...I got an unexpected high five from a friend I didn't know was running, then I kept looking for my team mates....first DMcHardie, then Scotty, then Jaimer...and last but definately not least just before the turn around point I met up with FreddyBeachPete. Then I hit the turn around point and realized I was all alone again, save for those li'l devils.

Today, I had one on my shoulder telling me that my body didn't like my "running habit", I had one on my hip, playing my IT Band like a stand-up bass, and I had one poking my foot, reminding me that I only recently got over an injury and well...it may not be all gone yet.

D@mn li'l devils! I had to remind myself to get into my music "Let the music take you home" it had worked for my March Break Away 10K, it helped me in the end of CTRR...so I popped my left ear bud back in and got jiving. Just as I was really grooving to the music I was topping a long hill just past the 6K point...and that is when I saw an Orange Angel off in the distance...It was Pete, and seeing him reminded me of RM and the people who would be reading my report..."they are going to tell you that you did a good job...better not make liars out of them...get goin!"

So again I stopped walking and started running again. As I was passing the 8.5K point I could see Pete once again way ahead of me...so I changed up my music...put on my Black Eyed Peas...and picked up the pace a bit.

That is when I realized that the best part of being a "back of the pack-er" is that since all your friends and teammates are faster than you, they are all waiting there at the finishline to congratulate you, hug you, and be proud of you...So I started thinking of who was going to be in my "welcoming committee" and I wiped my face and picked up the pace just a tad more.

I rounded the corner by the Army Obstacle Course and saw the finish line about 200m ahead. I came in strong...I finished...and only about 5 bug bites later...not bad considering.

I joked around to Scotty and Jaimer "I must be getting better...in March I came in last, at CTRR I was second to last...today I am third from last, I'm impressed! My times keep getting slower, but I finish better, oh well"

But you know what, where I placed, what time I ran, my pace...none of that matters...not really.

The lady who came in behind me is over 60 and she gave me a hug after and told me that I was what kept her going...she was trying to catch me and I just would not relent...she thanked me for that...

And folks...THAT is what really matters!

An Uphill Struggle, A Downhill Cruise…With a Glorious Finish!

2006-05-31T22:02:00.000-03:00

Prologue-

Anyone who knows anything about what I have gone through, training-wise, in the last few months can certainly attest that I have been tried, and tested, but found to be a true runner in the end.

Approximately six weeks ago (mid April) I started noticing some pain in the medial part of my right foot. Not just after or during runs, but also when I was standing around in sandals, or doing housework in my slippers. It hurt to stand on. But I brushed it off, knowing that I really needed to get new sneakers. Something I put of getting because other things got in the way financially.

I kept trudging away at my training with the Fredericton Half Marathon in my sights. Then life got in the way and reduced my training to one run each week (LSD only). I knew this could be a recipe for disaster, but I kept at it, because I would be damned if I gave up that Half Mary goal.

Then 9.5K into a 10K LSD with my running partner, Trish, my goals exploded before me. On 23 April, just a mere 3 weeks before the Fredericton Half Marathon and 5 weeks before the Cabot Trail Relay Race, the nagging pain in my foot became an official injury. I couldn’t bare weight on my Right foot, much less walk or run. I limped my way through the following weeks RICE-ing and popping Ibuprofin like they were jujubes.

I acknowledged that the Freddy-town Half Mary was as lost as Jimmy Hoffa’s remains, never to be seen again. I looked ahead to CTRR and questioned if I’d be ready…but decided to give it the “ol’ have at ‘er” anyway. I tried a few light runs through the weekdays only to have to stop due to foot pain. Then I started a new job that had me walk 15K in one day…the foot flared up again. That is when I stopped posting on RunningMania.com, I didn’t want to alarm Brendan or Nick until I knew what was going on.

Mother’s day and the Fredericton Half finally came upon us, and I had a few good crying jags before going to cheer on all my friends. It killed me to be on the sidelines that day…but I had new shoes now and I had two weeks to work my way back for the CTRR. I was determined I would do it.

My first run in my new shoes after being healed, saw me barely sustaining 4:1’s for a 30 minute 3K light run. I was absolutely devastated. I figured if I couldn’t handle a flat 3K what made me think I could handle 13.1 on the Cabot Trail!?! But I sucked it up, and tried again. This time I ran 5K in 35ish minutes and I was glowing…I was back! “CTRR here I come!!”

The Weekend Finally Arrives-

After many CTRR “training and planning” sessions which consisted of the NB supervan crew getting together and imbibing in vast amounts of “O Be Joyful”, we had all the logistics worked out for our adventure…so we thought.

Once we worked out some glitches and got on the road, I started to actually realize what was ahead of me. “What am I thinking, I have to run 13.1K tomorrow and I haven’t run more than 5K in two months!!!” But I quickly put it to the back of my mind as we sang along to Great Big Sea and anticipated meeting the rest of the RunningMania.com team.

I continued to keep that thought at the back of my mind with the aid of wine and beer and rye on Friday night. Needless to say, I did not put much thought into hydration…but then, why break tradition? I have gotten a sufficient buzz the night before both of my other two events I have run so far…and they say, don’t try anything new on race day…:wink:

Time To Cheer-

We headed out for the Trail and caught up with the relay at Leg 3 where we started to get a small feel for the energy surrounding this event. Seeing qmp trudging through the thick humidity, and likely battling his own demons (don’t we all?) put a pang of pride in my heart, which was amplified when I saw him cross the mat, and then witnessed IronGirl take off looking so ready to climb a mountain. Mental note: Don’t ever get between Kiza and her goal, she’ll run you over.

I saw James off on his leg of the race, and drove the NB Supervan as the primary support vehicle. I really started to feel the sparks in the air. There was electricity everywhere…this event is the most electrifying event ever. As we supported James the best we could, I kept thinking, wow…I am so dang proud of all these guys. But my heart completely burst during Leg 6, when the love of my life, my soul mate was running up all the hills that lay before him, with a smile on his face no less. I figured either he had completely lost it altogether, or he was just really in his groove. Either way, every time we stopped to aid him, he was in a different position. He essentially just kept passing people. At the 14K point of his run he turned to me and said “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Referring to the fact that I had yet to check in at the start point for the next Leg of the race…my Leg. “I don’t want to see you again until you are there! Now git!” Ok…I know when an officer has given me a direct order…and I am smart enough to follow it.

I got to the finish mats of Leg 6 just in time to see Scotty come tearing in…and a full 2+ minutes ahead of the Gagetown CTC Army guy running the same leg. That is when my heart leapt from my chest. Here was Scotty, a guy who was apparently too slow to make the military team representing his base, coming in a full 2 minutes faster than the person who did make that team. This on top of the fact that James had beat his Gagetown counterpart as well…

My Run-

I lined up at the very back of the starting crowd for my Leg. I know I am slow, there is no sense seeding myself any closer to the front than that. I popped in my ear pieces, cranked my MP3 player, and didn’t even hear the start horn…I was already groovin’. My leg was described on the CTRR website as:

"A rolling leg but the first 8 km climbs steadily 90m and then falls quickly to finish 0.2 km past the Dingwall garage."

I took it slow and easy up the climb, probably with about a 8-9minute/k pace. After the first 12 minutes I walked for 3, but my walking pace was faster than my running at that point because the hill was so darned long! I was so into my music that I was unaware of anything besides the fact that I had passed one person and was catching another. And just as I passed her, I saw the two team #42 support vehicles go by. “Will this hill ever end??”

Then, at the crest of a hill I see it, a sight to behold, an oasis…no, not the water stop…I wasn’t even close to that yet…I saw the two most gorgeous hairdos on the Cabot Trail. Flash had made an appearance to support Scotty on his run, and low and behold he had been joined by Shimmer for mine. This is where I really get sappy.

When I met Scotty and James, they were professional clowns (Shimmer and Flash) and in fact the only parts of the true men under the make-up I could see were their eyes. I fell for a pair of dazzling blue eyes framed by a lime green curly wig…and I have never been the same since. So seeing those two particular clowns there, sitting on the rear bumper of my van was just the ticket I needed to keep me going through these trying 13.1Km.

Shortly thereafter I found the water stop, and that was the last walk break I took. Once I started the downhill portion of my Leg there was no stopping me. I was passed by the “chick” that I had passed on the uphill, but all was good. I tried to slow myself a bit so as not to fall on my face.

Scotty, no, Shimmer and Flash, and Trish were there every couple of Ks and had they not been there, I may have given up. In fact I had been looking for that dang “1K to go” pilon for so long that when I came upon Shimmer and Flash again I said “when is this thing going to be f&^%ing done!?” Apparently the race officials had just removed the pilon and Flash was there with an orange RM shirt on in its stead.

So with renewed energy, and seeing that my run will come to fruition in mere minutes I pick up pace a bit and head strong to the finish line…only to have to step off the road for a car in the last 600m…that is when I roll my ankle and I go down…hard. I skinned my right knee and rolled around on the ground a bit. When I got up and dusted myself off…I started crying and going on, “NOOOO! God Damnit! (Insert choice expletive here)” Then I heard “Suck it up, Princess!” in the back of my head…so I wiped the tears away and ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, then I rounded a corner…and there they all were…the finish. There were strangers holding out a hand for a high five.

”Dang straight I’ll high five you! I just ran 13.1K on the Cabot Trail…today I am a Kenyan!”

Oh, and by the way. The Cabot Trail was my first ever chip timed event. Who else can say that?

One more try...

2006-05-15T14:33:00.000-03:00

Well the last few days have been an emotional rollercoaster. I have had to face my own feelings of failure for not being able to run in the Fredericton Half Marathon. I have had doubts about being able to run the Cabot Trail Relay Race as well. These doubts are manefestations of my low self image, and I realize that now...but at the time it was really easy to just wallow in self-pitty.

However, I have my new sparkly orange shoes, and a renewed outlook.

Attending the Half Marathon yesterday to cheer on all my friends and my soul-mate was a cleansing experience. I went there feeling like "yeah, everyone I know is running this race, I was supposed to, but now I'm not, I suck!" But I got caught up in the excitement, as I knew I would, but was warry that I would just feel worse for myself in the end.

My epiphany started when a friend told me she wanted to "take part in the whole marathon experience" by going to the pasta party. We were not able to go because our babysitter was not available until 9:30. So I made a fabulous pasta here at home and we had our own party (which saw Scotty drink 6 beers the night before his race) but I digress. After my friend said that, it hit me, like a tonne of bricks, I am not a race participant, I am not going to get that whole "marathon experience". So I had my three hour crying jag and went to bed in a foul mood Friday night.

Saturday we picked up Scotty's race kit, another kick in the pants for me, but I was soooooo tempted to register for the 10K then and there, then remembered, "who would look after the kiddos?" I got my new shoes so I was starting to feel a little bit better about getting back to being a runner again. We got home and Scotty looked through his race kit, and I started to brood again. He told me all about a half marathon in Miramichi on the July long weekend..."you should do that one, and I will take my turn corraling the kiddies" he says. Oh great suggest a race out of pitty, just what I need a pitty party! Well, I realize now that was my own self pitty saying that. Scotty really, truely wanted me to run that race so that he could be there for me.

Sunday we loaded up the van and drove to the race. Had a bit of a meet and greet with other members of our running club...and I was still feeling sorry for not being able to take part. But you know what? Once those 10K runners started coming in, especially my running club-mates...it didn't matter. As one said, "it's all good at the finish line, nothing matters anymore!" You know who you are, and you are so right. So then I got excited to see people finishing...people I didn't even know. A mom with her two kids, the first full marathoner in being supported on either side by friends (he had hit the wall late in the race, but by golly his support team was going to make sure he didn't DNF!) I had tears rolling down my face at several points. There were all different types of runners there. Some who you could tell, had lost alot of weight recently...some who were doing their first event...some were pros and finishing strong...but everybodies face told a different story and each of them moved me. Then my friends started coming in, first J, then out of nowhere Scotty comes whizzing by, too fast for me to even get a picture. None of it mattered any more...I was just so proud of my friends for a) finishing and b) meeting or beating their goals...and in the case of Scotty, ripping up his goal of a 2:00 half and stomping it into the ground in 1:57:49. My heart was trying to bust out of my chest.

Now, time for me to reallign my goals. First Cabot Trail Relay Race...look out, here I come! Next: I will try one more time to run a half marathon...this time it will be on a flat, fast course in Miramichi...and I will be rockin' and rollin' the whole way!!

Prom Night?...

2006-05-15T13:37:00.000-03:00

Okay, so I'm not Telekinetic, and my parents aren't Christian Fundamentalists, I was never locked in a closet, and my mother never hated me for menstruating. But I can certainly relate to Carrie White.

And I have been thinking about her a lot lately.

In case you haven't realized, I am referring to the title character in Stephen King's Carrie. It has been some time since I read the book, as it was one of my first explorations into Stephen King's twisted mind, but I remember reliving my experiences of childhood ridicule while reading this book, and really relating to the sadness and frustration and want of acceptance that Carrie had.

Carrie has come back to me recently as I am starting to mentally prepare for going to a Spring Ball that I really want no part of. Scott and I are not part of the clique within the Arty School (not that we are heart broken by that) and we are reminded as those in the inner circles leer down their snubbed noses at us.

I have always been on the outside looking in. I hate it. I hate the feeling of not belonging. But mostly I hate the feeling that my existence is an annoyance, much less tolerated. Growing up I was bullied. Not harshly, but enough times, by enough people that it managed to really affect the way I thought about myself. As an adult, I have been struggling to reverse those thoughts, which is a battle at the best of times, and recently I have noticed that I have lost a few battles. Hopefully I am still winning the war.

Flash Back:

Elementary school, small town Annapolis Valley, NS: My dad is the local priest, which in itself makes me a Preacher's Kid...not exactly inner circle material. But to make matters worse, my entire family (except myself) are US citizens, living in a town that is for the most part Anti-American. Some girls a year ahead of me decide to pull pranks on me like steal my jacket and throw it in a mud puddle. Pick on me, call me names, tell me to move home to the US where I belong...blah, blah, blah. I was told it was not that they didn't like me, it was that they overheard their parents talk about how they didn't like my dad. Shit rolls down hill, I guess.

Flash forward:

Junior High School, another small town in Annapolis Valley, NS: We finally moved, yay, now I can have friends...or so I thought. I was wrong! Everybody already had their friends, I wasn't from there. So I was not accepted. Weird, cuz they didn't care who my dad was, what country he was from...I just didn't fit cuz I wasn't from that town...I didn't grow up there, I was not a local. I was ostracised and picked on again.

Flash forward some more:

High School, down the road, Annapolis Valley, NS: This school was "fed" by several other schools, and the "base brats" from 14 Wing Greenwood went to this school. So by rights I could not be ostracized by being an outsider...cuz all the students were, in some way shape or form. Instead I didn't dress right, I didn't have the latest craze of Ikeda jeans, or Raggs sweatshirts. I just didn't have the brand name gear that would allow me to make it. On top of that, I was cut from the basketball team because I was not as tall as the other girl who tried out...never mind that she had never touched a basketball in her life...and I had just been the team captain for my junior high team and starter for the past three years. So, since I didn't play sports (didn't make the volleyball team either), or didn't play an instrument, I didn't wear the right clothes...I was left in the Other category...you know...Not a jock, not a band geek, not a skater, or a punk, not a rocker, or a pot-head just one of the leftovers.

Flash forward three more years:

University, big city, NS: The three girls that were my best friends in the leftovers group in high school were supposed to be my roommates, right up until I realized they were my friends cuz I could use my mum's car most times I wanted. Wow, that was deflating. Once I got to university I didn't have access to a car anymore...I was no longer needed. That's nice. Thanks girls.

So now we are pretty much back to present day 2006. Scotty and I are required to attend the Arty School Spring Ball which is pretty much a second prom. Yay, I hated prom the first time around and I went to that willingly. Now I am much wiser and don't buy into the crap anymore...yet I still must go. So I have my $9 dress I got at Frenchy's and we will reluctantly attend, but I know we won't have a good time. Scotty isn't a lowly untrained 2Lt anymore, but he is not an IG. And in the Arty world, you can't be part of the somebodies until you are an instructor...not that that really makes you any better...in the grand scheme, but that is what allows you entry into the inner circle. Scotty and I both agree though, that it is much more impressive to be too busy off commanding troops to be an instructor than it is to sit around a stagnant school teaching people their trade according to how it was written 10 years ago, never mind that all the doctrine has changed since then. Anybody who is anybody in the artillery has never wasted their time being an instructor. But I digress...

All this hype (or dread) about the Spring Ball has got me noticing cliques in other parts of my life. I have seen them prevalent on the on-line forums I belong to...which has made me realize that a lot of my activity there has been in effort to "fit in" yet again. And for that same reason, I have decided to take a break from them for a while. I just need to get away from elitist thinking.

Time to be a grown up and swim on my own for a while.

Gone, gone, gone, I've been gone so long, I've been gone, gone gone so long...

2006-05-15T13:26:00.000-03:00

It has been almost a month since I posted last. WOW!! I am such a delinquent!

I have been meaning to blog for a while, but the mood will strike me at the most inopportune times.

I should just take a lesson out of Scotty's book and write my thoughts in MS Word and then just cut and paste it here when I have finally compiled a complete, coherent paragraph...Oh well, I've never been one for actually applying logic on a regular basis.

Oh, and here's a thought...apparently I have a writing style that is much liked by my friends and family. ?!? I didn't know I had a "style" per sé. I just type as my brain forms the thoughts, and most times I don't even realize what I've typed till I go back and read it. But if you guys like it so much...I am glad you enjoy it. (This is the precise reason why I titled my blogspot "The Ramblings of a Canadian Military Wife" it is just that, ramblings...put to text.)

I will try yet another resolution...this time to let less time go by before adding to my blogspot. In the meantime I have catching up to do...

Best get started at that!

The Sun'll Come Out, Tomorrow...

2006-04-23T10:31:00.000-03:00

Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun!

At least I hope so.

After an entire week of crappy cold rain the last two days have been increasingly nicer, and today is no exception. What a gorgeous day!

As I went outside this morning to untangle the dog from the trees in the backyard, I saw someone taking advantage of the beautiful day out for a run...and I thought, "WOW, good idea! I can't wait to run today too!"

But first things first. I must hydrate. I got into the wine last night...and when it comes to wine, I don't know the meaning of moderation. I am also coming down off of a weeklong sugar high and junk fest.

To put it bluntly, last week was hell week. Scotty was in the field, and as a result, home late most nights. I was moody, aggitated and tempramental. Mostly due to monthly hormonal fluctuations, but aggrivated by circumstance. So, the emotional eater that I am, consoled myself with food. My food of choice? Chips...I ate the better part of three cans of pringles and 4 big bags of chips...topped off with Easter chocolate and Phia's birthday cake yesterday.

Today I start fresh all over again. But this time, the house is devoid of anything I have a weakness for...no wine, no chips, no chocolate. There are a couple of chocolate cookies left and a few butter tarts, but I will let Scotty and the kids have those. I shall refrain. I hope. No, I will. I can.

Gonna take the bull by the horns today too. I am planning on calling upon someone who said they would help devise a weights routine for me. I have one of his Flex magazines here that he lent Scotty and I have looked through and picked out the arms, legs, butt, and abs that I want from the female fitness models in the mag. I hope he can really help me. I want to be a fit goddess when Scotty gets back from Afghanistan. That gives me a little over a year to perfect this body the best I can.

Now, time for another glass of water.

A New Hope...

2006-04-19T09:34:00.000-03:00

Most (all) of this information I am not proud of. I have never had a hard time sharing my weight before, but that was because I convinced myself it was mostly muscle and that I was "athletically built" HA!! I have been so corrected in that train of thought.

The moment of recconing is here:

Start Weight (lbs): 183.5
Current Weight (lbs): 183.5
Body Fat (lbs): 65.8
Body Fat (%): 35.8
Hydration (%): 46.9
BMI: 28.8

Oi Vé!!

So, here is what I need to do:

1. Drink water (even if it kills me). I don't drink nearly enough, maybe one glass a day if I think about it. So I will gradually introduce drinking water into my life until it becomes natural.

2. Reduce coffee/caffiene intake. I have already cut down to 2-3 cups/day from almost a whole pot, but I would like to be only having one morning coffee and then have herbal tea the rest of the day in place of coffee (this will also increase my water intake at the same time).

3. Say goodbye to white foods once and for all. By white foods, I mean white potatoes, white rice, white bread, white flour. Of course I will allow a few indulgences here and there (within reason) but for the most part I am back to brown rice, whole grain breads, and sweet potatoes. This isn't a problem as these are what I prefer...but this also means saying good by to chips.

4. Reinstitute a serious weight program 3x/week. Lean muscle increases metabolism...and so I need to increase my lean muscle...and hey, sculpted bodies are HOT!! I want one!! I have the discipline now (thanks to running) I have the knowlege, I just need a routine.

5. Get back to journaling...I need to journal not just what I ate and my activities, but also my moods and other external factors that may affect the way I eat or workout. This will allow me to look back and see where I went wrong or did really good.

6. Stop thinking with an all or nothing attitude. I catch myself gorging on pringles/easter chocolates thinking, "I'll start when these are all gone" instead of, "I'll just have a couple so I don't ruin my efforts by gorging"

I have a Spring Ball coming up on June 3rd, and I want to "stick it" to the cliquey Artillery Wives that think they are better than everyone else...HA, I'd like to see them run a half marathon...and look as good as me!! And I have a great gown waiting for me down stairs...it needs some alterations, but with effort and dilligence I shall get into it!

Pukey-Poopies have morphed into Coughey-Sneezy-poopies...

2006-04-13T14:00:00.000-03:00

Apparently that is what this particular virus is supposed to do, it just took its sweet ol' time with Phia.

She is finally on the mend...but it is still a long uphill battle, concentrating on re-hydration. Pedialyte is her liquid diet...hopefully she will be showing the benefits of it soon.

The Easter long weekend has approached and I have a date to go shopping with the Easter Bunny on Saturday. Gotta get ready for the treasure hunt. It is fun to see the eyes of the kids light up during these holiday traditions. Sophia's birthday is Sunday...hopefully she will be feeling better for it...poor thing.

Sneaky....

2006-04-12T11:06:00.001-03:00

I've noticed something about myself lately. I sneak food. I find myself in a store or fast food restaurant buying stuff I know I don't need to eat...or extra portions. For instance: Last week I was craving a donair, so I headed out the door to get one, instead I hit McDonalds and got myself TWO double cheesburgers with lettuce and tomato, and a large fries. On my way home, I started to dig out one of the burgers to eat it so Scotty wouldn't know I had a second one. Then I stopped, I realized I was sneaking and hoarding food. This is a very BAD habit. The good thing, is I am now aware of it, and I notice when I try to do it. The other day, I made Michelinas for Scotty and I for lunch while we were nursing Phia during her pukey-poopies...I made one for me, one for Scotty, then ate the one for me while Scotty's was cooking, so then I made another one for me...I SNUCK the food.

I am ashamed of myself for this behavior. I try to think of why I do it, I don't have it completely narrowed down yet, but I am sure my childhood plays some part in it.

Funny, cus the personality trait I hate the most in anyone is being sneaky. I guess there is just "something about that person that I don't like about myself," a Dr. Phil-ism that I really believe in.

It's been a while...

2006-04-12T11:06:00.000-03:00

I haven't blogged in a while. I haven't run in a while.

I haven't blogged, just because I haven't thought of it.

I haven't run because it hurts. I need new running shoes. When I run my calves and shins get very tight and then the pain begins. I haven't been running consistently enough to allow my head to pass the mental block so when I do run, I cut the runs short. As a result of all this, I have gone into lurk mode on RunningMania for the most part, and I am really starting to rethink my goals of a half marathon just one month away. I don't think I can do it, reasonably, but I don't want to give up the chance, I am still holding onto hope!

I am going to concentrate on my long runs, the other runs through the week will just be gravy... That is my plan, let's see if I stick to it.

Falling in Love all over again...

2006-03-25T20:15:00.000-04:00

I did it twice this weekend.

I certainly can't say that my life gets mundane. When a rut starts to form, or I get settled into routine, things in my life tend to kick up just at the right moment...things like the stress I have been under lately, or new information that will affect decisions made, or life altering news.

This week was the stress, and as I was starting to believe the stress and resulting mild clinical depression setting in was going to be my next rut, I realized I was wrong.

Friday saw a nice relaxing evening, commencing with a luxurious mediterranean bath, a moisturizing and relaxing massage and quality time with my best friend. For some reason just snuggling in Scotty's arms made all the bad stuff go away. I was washed over with a sensation of safety and calm that is impossible to describe.

Saturday saw a vigorous 12Km run with a friend. This run was just long enough and at just the right pace that I was able to be reacquainted with the reason why I got hooked on running in the first place. I re-centered my Chi. I realized that I don't have to run hard and fast to train, I am doing it to complete the distance, not compete in it. I had been concentrating too much on the numbers game, and forgot to just run so it felt good. I had moved away from being a "Zen runner" into the "Einstein runner" category as of late. Today I was brought back to earth. It felt good.

Can't wait to get back out there tomorrow.

Spring...

2006-03-22T14:35:00.000-04:00

Usually known as a time for new beginnings...

A cheery-ness after the blahs of winter...

Not in my neighborhood.

Scotty and I have been blessed with a spring ritual since we moved into our PMQ. Defending ourselves against attacks from the neighborhood witch.

It started back in April 03...the birth of our daughter, by c-section, and the subsequent visit from my mother. My mother, who was unaware of the town bylaw requiring that cats only be let outside if on a leash, was used to having outdoor cats, so she would let our two furbabies come and go from the house as they pleased. However, this did not please our next door neighbor, who, as a result, had impeccable timing with her first complaint. I had just come in the door with my 17 month old toddler, infant car seat, and stapled belly when on of the cats escaped out the door...I couldn't run after him...and my mum was busy helping Bubba off with his coat. We didn't think it was an issue. The neighbor did. She stood on my doorstep and yelled at me that I had to abide by the bylaws or she would call animal control on me. I stood there dumbfounded, eyes wide, jaw dropped, with a panic attack brewing beneath the surface.

Fast forward a couple months, and a couple more times of having been called out on my doorstep, and I find a letter in my mailbox from animal control, so I call them, explain the situation and also that this woman is absoluting ungiving, she is not even willing to stay in the house (while my husband is away on course for the military) to watch the kids while I chase down the cats. Instead I was expected to abandon my children and leave them with no supervision while I run through the marshy woods to alleviate her of her allergens??? I didn't hear anything back from animal control since...

I have been outside in our back yard with our children playing on the slide, yes, the youngest toddler wandered over close to the neighbor's trampoline (it was an inticing "bounce-oline") but I quickly corralled the youngster who had just found her feet and was enjoying walking, even running when and whereever she could...it was a game of sorts...one that exhausted me, and made me nervous for the fear of reaction from the neighbor. Sure enough, just as I am packing up our things to go inside, she comes out and says "it's bad enough you can't control your cats, but can't you keep your kids in your own yard?" Again, I was appauled, not surprised, but appauled, attacked in my own back yard...for trying to mind my own business!

As a result, I don't go outside by myself unless necessary. I don't let my kids play in their own back yard...they can only play outside if we walk to a park...that way I know there is no looming attack.

Fast forward a couple more years, a few more complaints...then we get a dog...OH MY GOD! THE WORLD IS ENDING!!! A DOG!!! How dare we? The dog gets tied up outside, I bought a lead that is long enough for the dog to have freedom, but short enough that she can not go onto the neighbor's yard. I have been visited by CFHA (Canadian Forces Housing Agency) three times since the snow has melted as a result of complaints lodged about dog feces in our yard...I clean it up every three to four days, it is not bad...but one poop is one poop too many for "neighbor-lady's" liking. She is tying up the system with complaints that are "annonymous" or against us, but by us?? (Complaint made against Capt. XXX by Scott XXX)

THANK GOD WE ARE MOVING!!!!

CFHA are now going to erect a divider fence in the yard...I welcome this. Then maybe she will shut the fuck up! CFHA inspector said "if it is not you guys, it is the next tennant, so we might as well do it"

Pressure Pushing Down on Me...

2006-03-21T22:01:00.000-04:00

Pressing down on you no man ask for

Under pressure

Queen & David Bowie

Wow, under pressure...I think that is the understatement of the decade. At least of the week anyway.

I have had a constant feeling of an anxiety attack lingering under the surface for a while now. The pressure is constantly building, and I am hoping I can stay off an explosion.

Besides the usual of dogs and house training, kids and mess making, laundry and home making I am feeling a lot of responsibilities. Little things that are normally ok, all coming at once.

A couple of weeks ago, a major document for the MFRC went missing, it was inferred that I may have had some hand in the disappearance, it was later found and the "day was saved" but the fact that someone made implications that I would disregard the dire importance of such a document really bothered me. I was assured today by someone whom I hold in high regard that they truly believed that I had no part in it, and that felt good to know. But the fact that the implication had been made has spurred me to the realization that when I leave I may become the "fall guy" for a couple of people on the Board, and I won't be there to defend myself. This has me especially worried about legal and liability issues. I have decided to make steps to complete the projects I am working on in expedited manor, and then hand in my resignation ASAP as a preemptive measure.

I was still living on nervous energy when my doorbell rang, it sounded like it was pressed by somebody steaming in anger. I looked out the window to discover my neighbor (who has been a source of much stress over the past four years) at the door. I chose not to answer the door, as I suspect she was there just to BITCH at me for allowing raccoons to get into our garbage, or not cleaning up the dog poo outside in our yard in a manner as timely as she expects. I have such negative relations with this woman that I have never felt comfortable being out in my own yard with out the company of Scotty. She has attacked me on such subjects as my children and my pets...and each time I am sent spinning out of control into a panic attack. I feel as though I am watched every time I am outside with my kids or the dog. I feel like I am trapped in my own home, I don't go near the windows when I see her and/or her family members outside. I avoid all conflict here whenever possible. This is not in character with my personality. Scotty is upset that I am affected this way, so much so, that he has written a letter to these neighbors to be delivered on the day we move out. I truly hope nobody is allocated our unit after we move out. I wouldn't wish these neighbors on even my worst enemy.

I left for a run (8K tempo on the books for today) shortly after Neighbor-Lady-from-Hell left, but I was still worked up...Scotty was hoping that I would run some of the nervous energy off. But I just couldn't get in the zone today. I guess there was too much weighing heavily on my mind. So after 20 minutes and just under 2 miles on the treadmill (and very definitely coated in sweat), I copped out and did an upper body weights workout instead. I was, and still am, very dissapointed that I just couldn't get into running today, but the cardio room was warmer than usual, my MP3 player skipped on several occaisions and I just couldn't shake my nerves loose....it seemed like the world was ganging up on me today.

On a good note, I faxed my resume and application for the Board of Directors to the Moncton MFRC today. The move cannot come soon enough sometimes, at others...I worry about getting there and having to see Scotty off for 4 months of work-up training, in preparation for a looming tour to Afghanistan likely in early 2007. If this happens, I will get to a new city, where I know nobody, and have to settle in, by myself, and create a new support network from scratch. At least I will have RunningMania...thank God, somethings will never change!

A New Plan...

2006-03-17T15:50:00.000-04:00

I spent most of the day Wednesday scouring the internet in search of a new 1/2 Marathon training plan that I could adapt to my schedule. I found several, some were based on 4 or 5 days of running with a couple crosstraining days, most had speedwork, only a few had hill work. And none seemed to suit my needs. So, I did something I thought of doing along time ago but for some reason was scared to do: I asked a friend for help.

Andy had worked with Scotty to set up his duathlon training program...which Scotty has since adapted to be primarily for running (since he doesn't have a bike), so I felt his expertise would really help. After answering a series of questions (current PB time, LSD pace, goal race date, etc) he sent me a fabulous program.

Week of March 13, 2006

Monday : RECOVERY
Tuesday: RECOVERY
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 11K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 3.5K Easy Run

Week of March 20, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 8K Tempo Run (1.5K warmup, 5K projected race pace, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 13K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 3.5K Easy Run

Week of March 27, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 7K Hills (1.5K warmup, 4-5 hill repeats*, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 13K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 3.5K Easy Run

Week of April 3, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 8K Tempo Run (1.5K warmup, 5K projected race pace, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 14K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 3.5K Easy Run

Week of April 10, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 8K Hills (1.5K warmup, 5-6 hill repeats*, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 10K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 5K Easy Run

Week of April 10, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 10K Tempo Run (1.5K warmup, 7K projected race pace, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 14K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 5K Easy Run

Week of April 17, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 9K Hills (1.5K warmup, 6-7 hill repeats*, 1.5K cooldown)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 16K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 5K Easy Run

Week of April 24, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 10K Tempo Run (1.5K warmup, 7K projected race pace, 1.5K cooldown) or 5K Easy Run (if you are Racing the 10K on Sunday)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 16K (or 8K if you are Racing the 10K on Sunday)
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 5K Easy Run or 10K Road Race

Week of May 1, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: 12K Tempo Run (or 5K Easy Recovery, if you raced 10K last Sunday)
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : LSD - 18K
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST or Crosstraining
Sunday : 5K Easy Run

Week of May 8, 2006

Monday : REST or Crosstraining
Tuesday: Easy Run -- 5K
Wednesday : REST
Thursday : 8K Tempo Run (1.5K warmup, 5K projected race pace, 1.5K cooldown)
Friday : REST
Saturday : REST
Sunday : 1/2 Marathon Race --- GOOD LUCK and HAVE FUN !!!! ;-)

RECOVERY :

Week of May 15, 2006

Monday :
Tuesday:
Wednesday :
Thursday :
Friday :
Saturday :
Sunday :

Notes:

Hill Repeats should be ~400m in length with between a 4-6% grade ---- Run up the hill, turn-around and walk down the hill for your recovery

So, your first hill repeat session would be:

4- 5 x 400-500m hill repeats w/recovery
5 - 6 x 400-500m hill repeats w/recovery
6 - 7x 400-500m hill repeats w/recovery

And, if you do it on the treadmill, set your incline to:

1% for warmup
5-6% for the repeat for 400-500m duration
1% for recovery

Tempo Pace is your current 10K pace plus 30 seconds .... So, if your current 10K pace is 67 minutes, it should be 6:10mpk + :30 ...Tempo Pace = 6:30-7:00 minute per kilometer

Long Slow Distance Pace is gonna be your 1/2 marathon goal pace, as it is to Finish ... which will be between 7:00-7:30 minute per kilometer

The Long Awaited Race Report...

2006-03-14T14:02:00.000-04:00

I have put off writing this race report for a few reasons...

1. Scotty wrote his so well, I didn't feel I could follow it within a short time and do justice to my own report...he set the standard high...and I wanted my report to be just right.

2. Scotty kept telling me how proud he was of me...and although I found that noble and reassuring...I couldn't help but remember where I finished...and that was going through my head, drowning out all the positive stuff.

So here goes...4 days later...I finally attempt my race report.

March Break Away 10K ~ 11 March 06

I have only run one event before, the Run For the Cure 5K in October, and prior to that I had partaken in a big pasta dinner at Dani's where we proceeded to get blitzed on wine the night before my first event. I was in no way "sufficiently hydrated". So when the "J-squared" invited Scotty and I to a pasta feast on Friday I thought, "wooo-hooo, bring on the wine!" Why break a tradition? They say you should never do anything different on race day...

Well, we gorged on pasta, garlic bread, caesar salad and then stuffed down some of the best carrot cake I've had in quite some time. I drank two glasses of juice...no water...and disappointingly, no wine. But trust me, I was not "sufficiently hydrated".

After we got home, and wrestled the kids to bed (again) we headed to bed ourselves..."big day ahead, better get some rest".

I am not a morning person, by any stretch of the imagination. I am, the devil reincarnate until I get my morning cuppajoe...but seeing as this was race day, I forewent the coffee to opt for water...which I forgot to drink. I ate some oatmeal, got dressed and impatiently awaited the babysitter and our ride.

Finally at 0845 we departed Chez Lang for our destination...when we arrived we found a couple of guys hanging out by a truck, not knowing where the race was...they were volunteers...so...we did a recce (reconnaissance mission)and found people gathering towards the back of the provincial building...duh...experimental farm, we knew that...yeah, sure we did. *nervous giggle*

Anyway, after we jaunt down to a local filling station for Jaime to "relieve" herself...(I'm feeling absolutely parched at this point...and 10K race is looming 20 minutes away!!) We climb out of the car to be greeted by a wall of wind and we line up for our bibs...this is where we met dmchardy (the tell-tale RM orange shirts must have given us away...hehehe). Scotty and Jx2 abandoned me for the warmth of the car to pin their bibs on so, I followed suit.

We braved the wind again a short time before the race was to start so that we could warm up...ugh..."what the hell was I thinking...is it too late to just do the 5K?"

As for the race itself...I remember the first 5K loop as a depressing one. I battled a lot of inner demons that loop, and barely fought them off. "I started a little out of breath...am I going too fast? I don't think so...maybe I'm just not as fit as I seem to think I am." As I rounded the third corner I was both thankful and resentful that Scotty wore his orange RunningMania shirt, cus I could see him, a good 1-1.5K ahead. Yup, I was by myself. "Everyone I know runs faster than me, but it's okay, look at the 8 people you just passed, you won't be the last one accross that finish line!"

I didn't even take notice of the route markers until the 3K mark and that was only because Derrick (RR manager) told me I was almost at 3K..."yay, 3K, it took me forever to get here, and I am only at 3K, OI! 7 more to go!" As I round that corner by the Shell station and head up the hill I put a couple more people behind me...just the ego boost I needed. I crossed the 5K line at about 38minutes...since I had no watch on, I looked at my cell phone (had to have it with me incase the sitter called)at the start line a couple hundred meters up the hill ~10:40, we started at 10:01, "wow, I am slow! Scotty and James are probably almost done by now...whatever you do Kara, don't look behind you, James is probably about to cross that finish line...if you see that you'll quit, and by God you are not quiting on me today!!"

Okay, so I had gone so slow that my inner demons are now working with me instead of against...I'll take what I can get!

The second 5K, was a blur...I picked up pace to spite myself, and motored along, trying to catch the lady in the green jacket just ahead of me. Wind? What wind....the wind was NOTHING compaired to the hills!! And as I went up those hills shuffling slower than I walk but in my head I heard "it doesn't matter what time you finish in, as long as you finish...and you are not going to walk once...you can run 10K so you are going to run this 10K, no walking allowed for you" I continue my trudge up the kill...er, I mean hill...(Freudian slip perhaps?) My true moment of nirvana hit me when I saw the 9K marker...my favorite running song was just starting on my MP3 player at that point. This is where I zone out...and really pick up pace. Boom, Boom, Boom...the beat of the bass, and my footsteps perfectly in sync...my stride is long, I am running on clouds...I LOVE THIS SONG!!! Ahead I see that familiar orange...Scotty is waiting at the last turn to cheer me on....YEAH, I'm in the zone...he is mocking me without knowing it..."I know he has been long since finished, as have James and Jaime...and of course most everybody else...but I passed at least 8 people, so I am not the absolute last one over the line..." Woo-hoo, my heart is trying to leap out of my chest now, and is actually making it hard to breath...but my favorite song ends and gives over to the best song to finish on.

I'm singing, I'm running, I'm gasping for breath...oh look, the Jamies..."yay, I'm so close" "doo, do, doo, doooo, na, na, naa, na, naah" "We're leaving together, But still it's farewell, And maybe we'll come back, To earth, who can tell I guess there is no one to blame, We're leaving ground (leaving ground) Will things ever be the same again? It's the final countdown... The final countdown Ooh oh"
Dan has now doubled back checking for straglers...but turns to run with me "yay, fellow maniac...but I'm not gonna let you out run me....Oh, I can't breathe, okay, I'll slow down a touch"

There it is, the finish line...and as I pass over it I nearly collapse...see the combination of race induced adrenaline, fabulous music, an exhuberant husband bouncing up and down cheering me on, and a little competitive edge meant that I tend to speed up to a full-out sprint in the last 100m...I had the energy, I had the fuel in the tank...but I just couldn't breathe so I had to bring it back down to a normal pace for the last 10m.

I had a fabulously negative split...I finished in 67:38 a personal best...which meant that my second 5K was approx 29-30 minutes??? My only regret from that day: I forgot to stretch...I was too busy remembering to stay upright.

Oh, and as soon as I crossed the finish line everyone packed up and left...I was the absolute last runner in...which really, for me, took away from my PB...it is hard on one's fragile ego to know that everyone was waiting on you...if they had waited 5-10 minutes before packing up and clearing out, I'd have been none the wiser...but it kills me to know I was last, despite the PB. I have a new inner demon to battle...and this is the one that has really prevented me from writing my race report. I am proud to have finished, but I don't like being last at anything!!

Hair of the Dog...

2006-03-10T13:05:00.000-04:00

Oh now my throat is sore...

I just spent the last 20 minutes yelling at Scotty about the damn dog...I am so tired of Raven chewing my dirty underware (eeew!) after retrieving them from the dirty laundry basket. She doesn't just pick the undies I don't like much...it is always my favorite pair...or new favorite since the last ones she chewed up.

Between that, and the endless poops and puddles of pee, and the chewed toiletpaper, kids toys, used pull-ups and sanitary napkins from the garbage (tripple eeew!!) I am at my wits end!!

I know that chewing and digging (my garden was the recent victim here) are signs of excess energy, and I know she needs to go for walks...I am not a dog person, never have been. And the only walk the dog has had was one the entire family went on...which got cut shorter than it should have been, due to tired mis-behaving pre-schoolers.

I just want Scotty to come home and take the dog himself...for LONG walks, get her tuckered out...work on leash training and off-leash training...be consistent with the commands, etc. I don't want to be the primary care giver anymore. I AM NOT A DOG PERSON.

I don't want to have to ask or remind...I just don't want to be the one to have to think of it.

Giving the dog away, is not really an option...our family has wanted a dog for so long...I agreed to it, so I will take some responsibility, I just don't want to carry all of it. But lately, it has been an option I have thought of more than once...but mostly out of frustration.

I know that once the dog is trained she will be really good. She already is, for a puppy...I also know that training takes dedication and hard work...I just ask to not be the only one dedicated.

I know that Scotty is now taking it upon himself to learn via internet some training tips and techniques. I hate that it came down to me yelling myself hoarse for the initiative to happen. THAT is the root of my frustration, I think.

So, I too, will spend the rest of the afternoon searching training tips and techniques and hopefully we can both apply what we learn and Raven will soon give up her penchant for dirty underware.

Survivor Thursday

2006-03-09T10:29:00.000-04:00

Volunteering at the MFRC this afternoon, signing cheques and working on the Executive Director's Annual Evaluation in anticipation of contract signing for the new fiscal year. This is also budget time...so things are busy.

Gonna hook up with my running partner for a nice run in the sunny outdoors today. We will be doing almost 7K today.

I am hoping the weather stays nice like this for our March Break Away 10K this Saturday...I always run better when the sun is nice and bright...gotta love all that Vitamin E!

Then this evening after we get the kiddos into bed...I will curl up on the couch with my guy and watch Survivor.

At some point today, I will start work on our Taxes...mine will be easy...$0 income...but I like to take my time, make sure I've got everything right and then I revisit them after a couple of days to recheck all the calculations before I am ready to prepare the final copy...which I recheck again before sending off.

IRP = Less Stress...

2006-03-07T17:42:00.005-04:00

March 7, 2006

Today: Where do I start??

Today's good day started just after midnight last night, so I will give a touch of background first.

Yesterday at lunch I had a massive panick attack as I opened the mail to find a reassessment of Scotty's taxes for the 2002 tax year that said we owed $4,000+!!! :shock:

Scotty called Revenue Canada and they determined that this was from the fact that he worked in Quebec, paid Quebec taxes but filed in New Brunswick that year and they had not recieved the paperwork from Quebec so all we had to do is fax the Relevé(?) from Quebec and things will be fixed...but not before our latest tax return is filed...so we will be delayed in recieving this year's return.

So, I tear the house apart looking for our file of tax returns...(I keep them for 10 years) and we can't find it anywhere..."I can't understand it...I know it is in the house" PANICK!!!!

Just as we are about to fall asleep last night, Scotty asks me where the papers that were next to the futon came from, I explained they were some I tore through looking for the Taxes folder and they were on the bookcase, yada, yada...he shoots up out of bed, runs down to the basement and back up....TADA!!!! He found it!!! It was in the cold storage room in among his military kit...??...

This morning we went to our first meeting with Royal Lepage re: our Integrated Relocation Program to find out what we are entitled to, what is covered, etc...from this, I have concluded that the most stressfull part of this upcoming move will be keeping the kids and dog stress free with all the changes. I couldn't believe some of the benefits we get...(for instance: 5 days, 4 nights all expenses paid Destination Inspection Trip so we can get to know the area, + up to $75/day for childcare!!)

The weather is absolutely gorgeous, I think it is spring...and if the dog's condition for today is any indication of what is facing me....uh, I'm not so sure I will like spring this year. Raven has spent the entire day outside in the +5 degree weather and her once black and shiny coat is now brown and matted with mud!!!

So, I will spend part of today going through our paperwork and reorganizing our filing cabinet...including putting the taxes folder back where it belongs...and then I plan to go for a run, out side...possibly with shorts (read running skirt) on!!

Battling the Inner Demons...??

2006-03-07T17:42:00.003-04:00

March 6, 2006

Well this weekend was going to start out pretty depressing, when I weighed myself the scale was actually the highest I have seen in a long time...kinda depressing, even if it is only 3 pounds more than my start weight...because I had been hovering around the same thing the whole time, while people tell me I look like I've lost weight. I think I had just rearranged everything to make me look slimmer LOL. But this time when the scale was up, I had to remind myself it was a different time of day, I had just eaten supper, and I am likely not as hydrated as I should be....well I knew that one for a fact!

But after doing a major upper body workout plus a run, then an LSD yesterday I felt good about myself, despite what the scale said. Then when I looked in the mirror after my shower yesterday, I actually heard my inner voice tell me that my ass looked good...and that I was starting to really look good. (My inner voice has never been so positive!) So I will take that as a small victory over the scale, cus at the end of the day, what the scale says to me isn't nearly as important as what my inner dialogue is. If I am making headway there, then that is what is more important to me...

Now, if only I could get that darn devil on my shoulder to stop whispering "sour cream and onion chips" to me all the time, I'd be all set!!

A mondo Upper Body Workout...

2006-03-07T17:42:00.002-04:00

March 4, 2006

Ran 2.3K to the gym today, then did a major upperbody workout:

Tricep pulldowns (with rope attatchment)
Bicep curls (pully weights)
Lat pulldowns (wide grip)
Lat pulldowns (close grip)
Double shoulder crossovers
Chest Flies (Pec deck)
Chest Press
Dumbell Super 7s (biceps)
Back Extentions (3x10)
Abs with weights (34, 33, 33)

Then I ran 2.3K home... Showered, ate some yogurt and all bran buds, drank oodles of water...and now heading to bed where a full body massage has been promised.

Run For The Cure~Fredericton, NB (02 Oct 05)

2006-03-07T17:42:00.001-04:00

Well, it is official. I have completed my first event. Where's the nachoes? For those of you who may not already know, two months ago I started running for a hobby.

A friend of mine started a “Couch to 5K” 9 week training program and subsequently decided that since the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure was ideally being held at the end of the ninth week, she asked me to join her team. Now I hesitated for a brief second…I mean, I haven’t “run” since I played Rugby over 10 years ago…and frankly I thought I had recently developed an allergy to exercise but I thought of the cause… and that reminded me of my Aunt ReRe, my mother’s sister who has beat Breast Cancer twice. If she can do that, I can run 5 Kilometers…it is the least I can do, right?

To add to the motivation I joined an on-line forum http://www.runningmania.com/ where I found runners of all levels of fitness and all walks of life across Canada who didn’t hesitate to lend support. A couple of them even donated to my Run…and they didn’t even “know” me besides a few posts on a message board. If I wasn’t inspired by this to keep going, I would never be.

As I progressed from new poster, to maniac, to addict on the forum, I had the same progression with my training. I went from running 60 seconds/walking 90 seconds intervals to eventually running 9.5 Kilometers by running 10 minutes/walking 1 minute (10:1’s in the running terminology). Keep in mind, however, that this was not without the help and support of some “real” friends here. My friend Dani had run her first (10 Kilometer) event in May…(and will run a ½ Marathon on Oct 9) and she would take me out with her on Saturdays for my “long run”, through the week Scott would either look after the kids so I could go run (and wait at the door to cheer me on in my home stretch) or he would recruit a friend to look after the kids so he could come with me through the week. My only hiccup in my training was when Scott was away for three weeks in Alberta for a military course and some of our friends had scheduling conflicts and family issues that prevented them from helping me out with child care as much as they would have liked…but that is okay… life happens, I realize that.

The day of the event approached quicker than I had realized…as I had just been looking forward to Scott’s homecoming so I could get back out for a run…not even realizing until a couple days before he got home that my Run for the Cure was just a week away!! **panic** On the day of the event the weather was absolutely gorgeous and prime for running, maybe a little warmer than I'd like, but I won't complain. I signed out a double jogging stroller from the base gym to help contain the kids for Scott while he cheered at the Run. Good thing too, because there were approximately 2600 participants…plus event volunteers, plus participant supporters… that makes for a big crowd to lose two precocious preschoolers. I also picked up a double sized can of an energy booster (much like Red Bull), which essentially is caffeine and sugar and certainly provided me with the desired effect…or was that just pre-race excitement??I knew from Dani and others that there would be a buzz around pre-race time. So when the pre-race festivities kicked off I was a bundle of kinetic energy...rocking back and forth back and forth... “Let's GO already!” I made sure to stop at the port-a-potties about 20 minutes before the start time so as to prevent any necessity for a “pit stop” later on.(This is when Scott tried his best with, "Well, always bet on the horse that does it's business right before the race.” Hardy har har) So after a bit of confusion, more on that in a moment, we were off. And I got to experience that awkward slow moving cattle drive at the beginning of the race. It took, I am sure, almost two full minutes to walk to the start line after the gun went off. I think it kind of hit me as I am walking to the starting line and I got a little light headed. “Oh my God, what have I got myself into?” I had kept myself sane by telling myself this is just another 5km. And approached it so, I kept to my plan of 15:1's so I took one 1 minute break and another 30ish second one...Dani was a tremendous support mechanism for this race and I thank her a lot for cheerleading me through it! I got caught up in the excitement and the cause…especially when I passed by a mother-daughter team who’s race bib said they were doing this for their sister/aunt Judy…I have an aunt Judy, and I was doing this for her, my mum, my aunt Janny, my Grammy, but mostly my Aunt ReRe. This led to an "uncharacteristic" sprint during the last 100-200 m. Which, Scott lovingly refered to as a "rampaging bull moment". He was glad no one was in the way, it may have been ugly. But if the finish line area hadn't been as congested I think I could have gone faster.
My "official" time according to the race clock was 34:40 (Scott told me this, as I saw nothing for the tears in my eyes from the emotion of the moment). I had set a spoken goal of 35:00 (this is the goal you set, that you know you can meet due to historical data from your training) given the delay at the start and the water table fiasco...I was close enough for pride to my whisper goal of 32:00 (a whisper goal is the goal that you would like to meet, but you would have to really push it)!

The water tables were very close to each other, and I had had to push my way through people to get some water…this is not normally the case at a very well organized marathon, or so I am told…the crowding at the water tables actually delayed be about 1 minute.So I am proud of myself, three months ago I was a couch potato...basking in my glorious laziness, and now in Scott's words, "you're acting like an athlete..."

Alright, then...10K anyone?

_________________
"Built for comfort, not for speed"

About me...

2006-03-07T17:42:00.000-04:00

I grew up in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia as a preacher's kid. My dad, an Anglican priest, was strict, so was my mum, but she was a little more laid back...We moved from Bridgetown to Berwick when I was 12, and when I was 19 my dad retired to Annapolis Royal, where they continue to reside today. As a typical PK I ran the gambut from being the Miss Priss Goody-Two-Shoes teaching Sunday School to being the girl that had friends over for a sleep-over just so we could sneak out in the middle of the night to go hang out with the local boys. One thing is certain though, I never did drugs. I smoked for two years but only after my 20th birthday and I never really got drunk before becoming legal age more than 5 times. Like I said...Goody-Two-Shoes.

I went to Saint Mary's University in Halifax, NS while I drank most of my student loans away...left with horrible marks and only 7 credits after three full years...OI!! During the summers I worked as a Ride Operator at Upper Clements Park...I was one of the only females trusted enough to have the responsibilities to run all rides and attractions at the park including the largest roller coaster east of Montreal.

It was while working at UCP that I met my husband. He was one of the clowns...hahahah (hey, I knew he'd be good with kids, eh?) We dated for six months, got engaged and married 18 months later. The week after our wedding he submitted his application to be a Direct Entry Officer in the Canadian Forces (Land element). He was sworn in 13 months later, while I was pregnant with my first born (son) and just days before 9/11. One week later he left for Basic Officer Training and I was left living with my in-laws until the time came when I could move to be with my hubby again.

Scotty has been in the CF for 4 1/2 years now and is doing well in his career....I am sure I will blog more on that in the future. We have since had another child (daughter) and our oldest is going to start school this coming fall. We moved to Oromocto so that Scotty could finish his training and start on his career in August of 2002 and we are just starting the process for our first military paid move, to Moncton.

I spend most of my days chasing after the kids, pulling my hair out, and picking up poop and wiping pee left behind by our resident black lab puppy, Raven. I am slowly warming up to dogs...I am more of a cat person...and Griffin, our tabby, is my sooky-baby. When I am not a frazzled wreck, I can be found dedicating a lot of my time for the local Military Family Resource Center, where I have been a volunteer and member of the Board of Directors for almost 4 years. I currently hold the Vice Chairperson position, but I have also been Treasurer...(my signature spent over 2 Million dollars, during my reign as Treasurer...impressive, eh?)

I also frequent two main internet forumstyle websites. www.army.ca and www.RunningMania.com . I like to think I am a respected member on both forums and especially my ties with RunningMania are held dear to me.

It is through RunningMania (RM) that I have found many forms of inspiration and motivation for my new-found hobby of running...yes, I run, I run for fun, I run for life. I run. I started running 10 August 05 when a friend and fellow blogger asked me to join her team for the Fredericton installment of the CIBC/CBCF Run For The Cure. I am currently working on a Half Marathon training schedule, with a short term goal of completing the 1/2 at the Fredericton Marathon in early May. At the end of May I am running as part of Team RunningMania in the Cabot Trail Relay Race. Both events I am really looking forward to.

So, that is me...now you are up to speed...sorry to have bored you.

To begin with...

2006-03-07T16:58:00.000-04:00

I have contemplated starting a blog for some time...mostly to act as a self-reflective journal but also to share my idiosyncracies (sp?) and quirks with my friends, family and anyone else who thinks they might care.

I have a knack for procrastination that can rival even the laziest of people, that is why I am just getting to this now...but better late than never...and I am known to be late quite often.

I will start with a little background about me and what I do, then I'll just get into the never-ending, long-run-on sentances, misspelled words, and misuse of homonyms that I am famous for. LOL

NOTE: I have saved some potential blog entries as of late, in anticipation of starting this blog, so if the heading date of the first few entries don't jive with the posted date, just chill...all is good...