Race Report: 5km Blackburn Hamlet Running Race

Joy here...At the end of August I discovered that I had given myself a wee bit of a stress fracture in my left foot.  Now a stress fracture is a teeny tiny little fracture that in and of itself is no big deal, unless you keep running on it, turning it into a serious fracture and major injury.

My stress fracture was in my baby toe - small metatarsal
of my left foot.

I was lucky to have caught mine early enough (well, actually, it was my coach who wrote: "Stop running!!!!!").  Because of catching it early, I was able to prevent it from worsening and take a brief 4 weeks off running, before trying to get back into the swing of things.

Of course, after taking the time off, it also meant that my motivation suffered (is suffering, continues to suffer...).  And the month of September had me hopping between Winnipeg and Ottawa and Toronto nearly every three days or so.  And on the back of that crazy month, we then got on a plane to head to Kuala Lumpur for a mere 6 days, and are now getting ready to hop on yet another plane for London for another 6 days.

Participants milling about the start/finish.

But since life doesn't just sit still and we can't always sit back and wait for some magic, perfect moment to train or race or run or be fit or, well, do anything, then we better just get on with it.

And in the spirit of just getting on with it, less than 2 days after returning to Ottawa from our whirlwind trip to Kuala Lumpur, I headed out on a cold October morning to participate in a local 5km run to raise funds for cancer research.

I haven't been able to train consistently, and I didn't run at all while we were just away, I figured that I might as well just get out there and run and have fun.

I mean, I can easily run 5kms these days, so it's not a matter of distance or endurance.  My issue would be making sure that I didn't get out there and get caught up in the race atmosphere and decide to run to hard or too fast and end up injuring myself.

Hamming it up for the camera!

So I charged up my trusty Garmin, headed out to the start line, warmed up under a clear blue sky in +4C temperatures with a brutal wind, and got ready to go.

We all gathered around for a photo and some speeches at the start, giving the race a real community feel, and then after the countdown, we were off.

I ran slowly and comfortably, following a few people ahead of me showing me the race route; otherwise I would have had no idea where I was going or what I was doing.

I made sure to keep my pacing in check, not going faster than around 5:40min/km for the first 2.5kms and then letting myself speed up at the 4km mark, but making sure that I still kept well within my limits.

The Joy of prizes!

And before you know it...the start/finish line appeared before me, and I ran right through it, only to learn as I was patted on the back by the organizers waiting there, that I was the 2nd placed female and 5th placed runner.  There were even prizes for me!

So I stretched and stuck around to gather my gift certificates and accolades, and then drove myself home with a sense of accomplishment.

I'm pretty happy that I just got on with it, and I intend to just keep on getting on with it no matter what my crazy schedule throws my way!

Over and out,
Joy

Race Stats:
Ran for a total of 5kms in 27:20mins with an average pace of 5:28min/km.

Living Off the Beaten Path...

Joy here...I've not been a regular blogger of late, and there are lots of reasons for that.  There are reasons of busy-ness; there are reasons of travel; there are reasons of injury; and there are reasons related to just plain old laziness.

Getting used to our Canadian basement gym...

However, some of my lacklustre blogging habits of late are related to my lacklustre training habits of late, and these are both related to my readjustment to returning to Canada.

You see, while living in Kuala Lumpur for a year, even though we travelled - a trip to Australia, one to Cambodia, an overnight to Bali, a few days in Singapore, and two trips back to Canada - we were, for all intents and purposes pretty stationary.

...again.

Since returning to Canada, it has come to my attention that such a way of living is really not what I normally do.  Normally I'm often away.  I've not had a mon-fri "job" for 12 years, and I've been self-employed for 3 (or 4 if you want to be really technical).  And while I love the flexibility of the life that I've worked hard to create for myself, I will admit that it's waaaaaaaay easier to have a regular eating, sleeping, and working out routine if you have a regular weekly routine.  If, however, in any given week you could be in a different city (or even different country), stuck on conference calls or in meetings at all hours of the day and night, hosting or attending any number of meet-and-greet/schmoozing scenarios on any (or all) evenings, and/or sneaking time to visit with family and friends both in your city or in other cities you may be passing through, then you might find it hard to have regular workouts.

This seems to be the case for me these days.

And, to be honest, I've stopped lamenting it, stopped whinging about it, and even stopped worrying about it.

Because I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm living the life I've chosen for myself; I'm juggling and balancing all sorts of interesting and creative things; and I'm happy.


And at the end of the day when Frost wrote:

He expressed what I feel right now.  I may not have taken the well-travelled road with a standard job, a couple of kids, a 2-car garage, and a nice, settled life, but the choices I have made have made all the difference.

Are you living the life you want?  Have you chosen your own path or let someone choose it for you?

Over and out,
Joy

Having a crush on Hamlet, or Learning to Relax

Joy here…In 2010/2011 I ran 6 running races in 12 months, with a good 6 of those months being the depth of a Canadian winter.  I then layered in some bike riding and had a great "summer of the sisterhood" of riding with some great women cyclists near where I live.

Then I thought I'd get back into the running over that 2011/2012 winter and train for my first ever full marathon.  I was full of dreams and aspirations.

My broken pinkie toe in the spring of 2012.

Then I broke my toe.

No big deal, I recouped, changed directions and started riding my bike.

Then in the 2012 season, I raced the heck outta my bike, competing in 2 gran fondos, 1 road race, and a whole bunch of time trials, including the Ontario provincial time trials.

Then I was kinda burnt out.

I didn't really feel like riding my bike in my basement in the cold, dark winter of 2012/2013, but I was out of shape from not running so much.

So I essentially got a bit lazy and a bit out of shape.  I was neither running nor cycling consistently, and it took me many months to get back into the swing of things.

Now it's almost fall, and in 2013/2014 I've only done 2 running races so far.  I'm sure I'll sign up for more, but at the moment I'm still just working on being consistent…getting back in the game, so to speak.

I'm also working on not being so hard on myself and giving myself permission to put my feet up and relax every now and then.

Relax by an infinity pool...

Why don't you join me? Put your feet up and take it easy.

Because everyone says trite things like "carpe diem" and "stop and smell the roses," but what do those things really mean?  How does one live authentically and meaningfully in the present without sacrificing one's future presents?  I mean, if I just sat around and totally enjoyed myself today, not thinking about tomorrow, I'd probably have Type 2 Diabetes from all the chocolate that I'd consume.  I'd probably also have my house repossessed when I wasn't able to pay my mortgage because I was so busy doing nothing but relaxing.

…relaxing in a nice, warm bath!

Now, obviously, that's not what I'm suggesting.  What I am suggesting, though, is something that Aristotle would have recognized as moderation - which is NOT what The Man always says it is that place he passes through between two extremes - but rather moderation is about finding that balance between desires and rationality.

Moderation, for me, is the Hamlet of life (if you think of Hamlet as needing to find his balance between Horatio as rationality personified and Laertes as emotionality personified).  And since I've always kind of had a crush on Hamlet, I figure that it's a-okay for me to try to pursue moderation in my life.

And so, for now, moderation will take the form of relaxation, and then when I feel like I've relaxed and recharged, I'll show up for another running race, but for now I'm going to run a bath, pour a glass of wine, and take it easy.

Over and out,
Joy

Race Report: 5kms on Canada Day

Droppin' off the bike and ready to run!

Joy here…After a great year in Malaysia, where I turned the corner fitness-wise, reaching all new PBs and improving my all-around health, I decided that I needed to sign up for a race upon returning to Canada.

What better than a Canada Day race on July 1st in Ottawa?

So The Man and I hopped on our bikes in the early hours of our second week back in Canada and headed down to the race start line, where I leaned my bike up against the fence and started my warm up run with the other competitors.

In Malaysia I had gotten pretty used to being one of the fitter folks out there.  I had started to enjoy riding my bike faster than some of the other guys out there riding up the hill on any given Sunday morning, and I had started getting used to my neighbours making appreciative and encouraging comments about my fitness as I did laps and laps and laps around where we lived.

But Ottawa is not Kuala Lumpur.

The fitness levels in Ottawa are really so much higher across the board.  That's not to say that there aren't super fit people in KL, because, of course there are, but the average fit guy/gal in Ottawa is just so much more fit than the average fit guy/gal in KL.

As I was learning.

Warming up nice and easy!

Right from the warming up I could tell that I wasn't going to be competitive in this race.  There were people of every age looking very fit and ready to run very fast.

While I may have awoken with delusions of grandeur, images of running fast across the finish line, I quickly began to revise those into more realistic goals.  I figured that I wanted to finish this 5km race in less than 25minutes, feeling strong and consistent.

I lined up on the start line with the other competitors, got my Garmin all set to record my data, and got ready to run my own race, not a competitive race with those speedy speedersons out there, but just my own race.

See me waving from the start line?

The sun was already high and hot overhead, and I could tell that some people were concerned with the heat.  But after Malaysia, it felt beautiful and balmy to me, so I wasn't worried at all.

I started my run and soon realized that (as per usual) I started too quickly.  I could hear Coach Woods in my head telling me to slow down, and so I slowed myself down to around a 4:45min/km pace (a whole minute faster than my Angkor Wat race pace of 6 months earlier).  I kept myself consistent at 4:45min/km, planning on having the energy to run the final 500m or so at super fast gusto speed.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans…

If I can just go faster…dammit!

Super fast gusto speed was not to be achieved.  At least not by me.  As I turned around at the halfway point, I was already feeling a bit tired in my legs, wondering if I'd be able to make it to the end.  Suddenly that sun that I didn't think was so hot at the starting line was feeling pretty damn hot.  That guy whose pace I had been following for a kilometre or so started to speed up for his great finish, and I wasn't able to keep pace with him.  Heck, it was all I could do to just keep steady at the pace I had set.

As I ran up the final ramp towards the finish line, I could see the minute counter was still in the 23 minute mark, counting down the seconds.  And even though I willed myself with everything in me to speed the f**k up, I saw that minute ticker tick past the 24 minute mark before I crossed the line.

Still, I had made it in under 25 minutes.

At the end of the day, I came in 3rd in my age and gender category and 13 out of 185 female competitors.

My official race stats are:
Ran for 5kms with an average pace of 4:49min/km for a total time of 24:05.

So while I may not have reached super fast gusto speed, at least now I have a baseline to start from and perhaps some more races in the months to come!

Over and out,
Joy

Running in Winnipeg, or Ode to My Sister-in-Law

All loaded up and ready for home!

Joy here…On a warm June 16, we arrived back in Ottawa after 12 months in Kuala Lumpur.  We were met at the airport by a friend who loaded up all of our suitcases and bike boxes in and on top of his car, and everything fit!  Well, almost everything.  I ended up taking a cab.

And then on June 17, I hopped on another plane to head to Winnipeg for a week's worth of meetings.

Now, throughout this past year being based in Asia, I had many a late night (ahem, all night) Skype meeting in order to fulfill my North American obligations, and in both September and March I flew back to Winnipeg from Asia for meetings.  So this quick turnaround in June didn't feel all that different.  In fact, it still felt like we lived in Malaysia, and I almost asked The Man to run down to his aunt and uncle's house for me, forgetting that they no longer live a 5 minute drive away, but rather a 25 hour flight away!

Our Winnipeg running route.

As I grappled with jet lag and feeling a surreal sense of displacement, there was one really great aspect to my quick trip to Winnipeg this June.  It was, in short, my sister-in-law.

You see, my brother and sister-in-law started dating when they were 15 years old or so, and got married when they were 27.  I'm only 2 years older than they are, and so I literally feel as though I've grown up knowing my sister-in-law.  I mean, I've known her for over 20 years by this point!

But the funny thing about growing up with someone and thinking you know them very well is that you may, in fact, know them very well in some ways and not at all in others.  I mean, the way that you can be super duper comfortable with family members, but not really know what makes them tick.  What are they passionate about?  What do they love to do in their spare time?  What do they believe to the core of their being?  These are things that I don't know that I could answer about my sister-in-law.  I know that she's generous and loving and that she has an amazing smile and infectious laugh.  I know that she's a good person inside and out.  I know that she's beautiful and serious and silly.  But I don't know that I know her the way that I would if I had just met her now - adult to adult.

Nice to not have to run alone in the wooded areas!

The good news is that in recent years, she's taken up running (yay!!!), and so when I was in town, I coordinated with her to head down Wellington Crescent towards Assiniboine Park (c'mon Winnipeggers…you know what route that is!) for a run together, my first run on Canadian soil since returning.

Running is sometimes the best way to get to know someone.  You have just you and that other person out there in the hot sun, finding your pace and your rhythm, feeling the endorphins, and making conversation.  There's something about the experience that is really enjoyable if you can share it with someone.

And so as we ran in that hot mid-day sun, we shared.  We talked about all sorts of things, some that I recall with great clarity now, and some that I've forgotten, but what I felt is that with each step of our running shoes on the pathway, we got closer to knowing each other as running buddies, not just as sisters-in-law.

And I have to say, I'm pretty happy to know her and am going to make a concerted effort to continue to get to know her better over the next 20 years.

Let's hope my running shoes don't wear out!

Over and out,
Joy

If I Had Known It'd be the Last Time...

Joy here…Our final weeks and days of our 12 months in Kuala Lumpur came like a crazy blur.  We were in the midst of many goodbyes and festivities.  We celebrated The Man turning 40; we had farewell gatherings with friends and family; and we packed up our whole life to head back to North America.

Celebrating The Man's big 40th birthday at our place in KL!

And somehow in all that insanity, my last bike ride and my last run in Kuala Lumpur came and went, with me always thinking that there'd be another truly truly truly "last" one still to come, one that I would know was the "last" one, and one where I would document every twist and turn, every green leaf, every bend in the road, and every single thought that I had to file it away as something special, something "last."

But, before I knew it, my "last" ride was now behind me, and my bike was packed up.  And then it was my running shoes put away in a suitcase, and my "last" run already completed.

3 bikes and some suitcases getting ready for the return journey.
(In the end, there would be 8 suitcases in addition to the 3
bikes…what can I say?  I guess we don't travel light!)

In both cases, I never really knew it would be the last time, and I felt a bit sad about letting that "last-ness" pass me by unnoticed.

But perhaps that's for the best.  Perhaps it's better that I experienced my "last" bike ride as just one of the many that I was able to enjoy throughout out 12 months WITHOUT WINTER.  Perhaps it's better that my last run was one where I felt strong and healthy and focused on the run itself, not on it being the "last" one.

And maybe, just maybe, that's something that I should remember going forward; I don't need to fixate on the special "last-ness" of any given event, but just stay focused in the immediate living of it, the immediate experience, the present-ness of life.

So while I keep my eye to where I want to go, I will also keep my eye on where I am in the moment, in the now.

Over and out,
Joy

Look where you want to go...

Joy here...While being based in Kuala Lumpur for the past 12 months I've had a chance to do some amazing bike rides through glorious scenery.  Along the way, we upgraded the wheels on my bike to some super fast Carbon C35s, which has given me more than one mini heart attack as I've gone descending down hairpin turns with 400m drops into the ravine below.

You see, I'm not one of those kids who grew up riding a bike, tearing around the neighbourhood on my BMX doing tricks.  I came to cycling really late in the game, into my 30s already.  And while I've certainly improved and learned how to love bike riding, I've never really mastered the fine art of descending.  Add to that my natural tendency to always fear the worst in things, and you have the perfect recipe for a pretty crappy descender on the bike.

But not to be daunted…I turned to YouTube for advice:

One of the great bits of advice in this video is "look where you wanna go," so as I rode the terrifying switchbacks down the hill in Kuala Lumpur on my new, fast wheels, I heard over and over in my head "look where you wanna go…look where you wanna go…look where you wanna go…"

And it became a mantra for me not just on the bike, but in life as well.

It is important not to look where you are afraid of going, but look where you want to go.  Don't look at those deep ravines and think about what could go wrong, but look where you want to go!

The road with the drop off into the jungle.

The drop way down from the road into the ravine 400m below.

So as I embark on my next adventure in life I'm going to keep that in mind, and I'm only going to look where I want to go, keeping my eye on my ambitions and aspirations not on all the things that could go wrong.  And at the end, I will reach my destination faster and with more confidence than I ever thought possible.  Just as what happened on my last Sunday ride in Kuala Lumpur as I raced down that winding road.

Because at the end of the day, while life sure is about the journey, having some kind of destination in mind and keeping it in the line of sight isn't such a bad idea after all.

Looking where I want to go,

Joy

20 Year Reunion...

Joy here...The other day I signed onto Facebook to waste some time (what else does one do on Facebook?) only to see that my 20 year reunion from high school is coming up.

Cough!  Coffee spit up on the computer screen!  What?  20 years???

I mean, I know I've done tonnes of things between now and back in high school - a bunch of university degrees, a couple of careers, much travelling, and marriage - but inside of me is still that teenager wondering what she's going to do when she grows up, wondering how she's going to get out of her hometown, and wondering what kind of mark she might make on the world.

1994, where have you gone?

Just as The Man and his friends' 40th birthdays have given me time to pause and take stock of life thus far, this impending reunion (whether I'm able to attend or not) is just such another of life's touchstones, offering me a moment to see if I've done all the things I thought I might when I was just a bright-eyed and zitty-faced teenager.

And the truth of the matter is that I've done more than I thought I would have back when I graduated high school and also less.  I don't have a house with a two car garage and 2.5 kids; I don't have a stable job with a high salary and solid retirement plan; I don't live on a quiet cul-de-sac with my school friends; I never wrote the great Canadian novel; and I haven't volunteered in Bangladesh.

But I've led such a rich and rewarding life over the past 20 years that my 17 year old self couldn't even begin to imagine the details.  I didn't have the frame of reference to dream as big as I've lived so far, and I hope that even when I don't achieve all my dreams and aspirations over the next 20 years that I do so much more that I can't yet envision.  Put another way, if the next 20 years are as interesting as the last 20, I'll be pleased.

I'll still be freakin' shocked at just how fast time flies.

40 may well be the new 20 in my head and heart, but math is still math.

No wonder I was an Engish major.

Over and out,
Joy

Marriage: Fighting Together

I think learning how to fight with someone 
you love is important.  Do you?

Joy here...Well, it seems as though my last post about learning how to disagree in a marriage has hit a chord.

You see, where we are supposed to learn about fighting with our partners is probably in our homes when we grow up, but it seems that most of us grow up in families where parental fighting comes in one of the four following categories:

1. Let's not fight in front of the kids.
2. Pointed barbs and harsh words thrown across the dinner table while kids look down at their plates and try to avoid eye contact with everyone.
3. All out parental battles that have the kids scurrying to hide under their beds until the storm blows over.
4. Divorce.

None of these really teach us how to disagree properly or functionally when we grow up, do they?

So I've had to learn along the way (and am still learning; here's another post of some of the lessons I've learned/am learning so far).

I mean, to be fair, I'm not one prone to fighting or anything like that, but I care strongly about some things, and I'm not about to be a pushover about those handful of things that I'm passionate about.  My journey into figuring out how to be a grown up has included figuring out how to not give in and sacrifice a sense of myself while also being open to productive disagreement.

It's harder than you think.

In my last post I talked in general terms about how, for me, this has taken the form of empathy:  "the best disagreements come from productively trying to see the other person's point of view.  In that sense, both partners are actively trying to see through the other's eyes, rather than convert the other to his/her point of view".  One of my good friends read that and wrote to me saying:  "You need to expand the blog update to include some of the so very important points and 'ways' to fight that you provided to me".

How do you fight?

So here are some of the "ways" that I try to use to fight well with the one I love:

• Ask lots of questions rather than make points or attack:  For instance, I'll say things like, "why do you think it's fair that...?" or "why do you think x makes sense?" or "why do you think I deserve that?" etc.
• Let him/her figure things out rather than boss him/her to your side:  I kind of think of it the way I thought about teaching; when I taught (both high school and uni) I wanted to lead students through to discovering things for themselves.  It was no good for me to just tell them what I already knew.  It's not exactly the same with a partner (of course), but no one enjoys being lectured.
• Don't be afraid of bringing feelings into the discussion: I'll try to say things like, "I feel like you're attacking me..." or "I feel like we're talking at cross purposes..." or "I feel a little sensitive about this..." or even "I feel like I won't say this right, but..." I find that doing that helps me to truly identify what I am feeling rather than just spitting out frustrations I may have over the issue at hand.
• Kiss and make up and apologize:  Even in the best marital disagreement, there's probably some aspect that I feel I didn't handle super well, so I usually have to identify that part and apologize for it; sometimes I'll say things like, "I'm sorry that I was a bit mean in that," or "I shouldn't have let that become such a big deal," or whatever. I find that it's just easier to apologize for those parts that I'm not thrilled with myself about.  And kissing afterwards is key...no smouldering resentments allowed!

And, well, if all else fails, go to the gym, build up your muscles, and intimidate your partner! ;)

Over and out,

Joy

Marriage: Heavy Lifting Together

Joy here...When I started blogging (with my co-written blog East and West Running with Nomi, my Malaysia running buddy and adult BFF) I charted my workouts; blogging was a way of e-journalling how I felt as I learned how to train, but over time this blog has morphed as much into a place where I collect random thoughts as it is a place where I chart workout updates (such as this all-time favourite "The Dreaded Kid Question" post from last year or this conversation-starter "A Triumph of Mediocrity" about my ambivalent feelings towards Ottawa).

At one point, one of my friends had read a blog post and said to me, "you should write about how to fight in a marriage."  "What?" I thought.  "The Man and I fight?"  My automatic response was to pretend that The Man and I never disagree; that our life is filled with sunshine and roses; and that our true love shines bright and trouble free all day long.

Even though every songwriter the world over knows the connection between anger and love, there is great social and cultural pressure for regular people (like myself) to deny that disagreement is part of love...in fact, one of the best parts.

The Man doing some heavy lifting.

Learning how to fight with the person you love most of all in the whole, wide world is probably the most important thing you can do for your relationship.  In my view, it's in the moments of genuine disagreement when we can open ourselves up and trust our partners enough to go to a place of disagreement with us, knowing that the relationship will still be standing at the end of it all.

What I've started to learn over time is that the best disagreements come from productively trying to see the other person's point of view.  In that sense, both partners are actively trying to see through the other's eyes, rather than convert the other to his/her point of view.

The WOman doing some heavy lifting.

It can be a lot of hard work to disagree this way - to always try to empathize - but in my experience, it's worth it when both partners try to do some heavy lifting.

But then again, you don't have to take my word for it.  I've only been married for 5 years, and The Man and I say that our relationship is still very juvenile as we figure things out along the way.

But we're willing to figure it out together.  And I hope whoever you love is willing to figure out how to fight with you too.

Over and out,
Joy

I'm a lover not a fighter, except when I'm not...

Joy here...I've been described by some as generous, giving, friendly, naive, or even kind-hearted.  I'm grateful to have such great people in my life who have such lovely things to say about me.

Of course, I think I may have them all fooled.

To be sure, I characterize myself as a lover not a fighter; I'd rather smile than frown; and I'll laugh before I'll cry.

I believe in giving lots of hugs and kisses; I believe it's better to give than receive; I believe in hanging on to good feelings and letting go of the bad ones; and I believe in offering the world trust first, and only distrust after being burnt.

I always first see the best in people, and I don't even have to try to be optimistic.

BUUUUT...

...when I've not been treated with the decency, integrity, or respect that I think I deserve; when someone tries to take advantage of me; or when the world turns its unfriendly face toward me, I am repeatedly surprised.  You'd think I'd learn.

You see, some people are able to be a bit more moderate.  They can gauge the world better with a more finely-tuned radar for the nuance of good and evil out there.  They can nip conflict in the bud before it blossoms into something ugly.  I respect that a lot.

Sadly, I don't seem to have these traits.

I am either a lover OR a fighter.  I'm most often a lover.  And when I'm not, I'm not.

What about you?  Are you a lover or a fighter or something in between?

Over and out,
Joy

PB Part 2: Confidence

Joy here...At the end of December I blogged about some PBs (personal bests), both within sport and outside of sport, taking a moment to celebrate some successes (an idea I borrowed from a former colleague of mine who first launched a "Boast Post" back in 2010, and has done so again in 2013 and in 2014, as a way of taking a moment to consciously and conscientiously articulate pride in one's accomplishments, an important notion for "women in the academy."  I'm no longer a "woman in the academy," but I'm still a woman, still a person, and still in need of the odd moment of self reflectivity that is positive and optimistic...boasting even).

It is, in some ways, my own little way of addressing what some authors have dubbed The Confidence Code, in describing the gap in confidence between men and women; which is also pretty much in keeping with Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean In, in which she advocates a kind of female ambition that often ends up getting people's backs up:  ambitious women are "bitches" after all. (See this article on the New York Times debacle over the firing of Jill Abrahamson, a woman leader considered "pushy" and "brusque").

Well, I'm ambitious.  I may well be a bitch.  I leave that to others to decide, because I think I'm super duper nice, but I may not be the best judge.  But I am confident.

If you're not afraid of a confident woman, then read on, or in the words of Beyonce, "can you handle this?"  If, so, then enjoy my PB Part Deux Boast Post:

Getting ready for squats...

Yesterday, I ran out to the hill to do the hill workout as dictated by Coach Woods (the same hill that I used back in June when we first arrived in Malaysia), and for the first time ever since I tried doing a hill workout I actually found it easy.  I had to run up the hill 6 times, and usually when I do a workout like this, I start calculating how I can quit at the 50% mark after the very first run up the hill.  This time, I did all 6 and then thought, "gee, is that it?"

...almost a 6-pack, I swear!

Then today, I squatted 100kgs at the gym.  That means that I held a weight bar, loaded down with 100kgs on my shoulders, lowered myself into a squat position, and repeated that all while holding the 100kgs.  To put that in perspective, that's around 220Ibs; I weigh around 127Ibs or so.

Heck, I even think I've got the start of six pack abs...I've got more work before anyone's gonna call it a washboard stomach, but, heck, it's not too shabby for a lady closer to 40 than 20.

A Saturday night feast at our place
(notice the salad!).

We've been eating well, making a concerted effort to eat at home (and watch the booze intake, one of my Achilles heels).

A Sunday afternoon brunch at our place
(more salad!).

But life is more than sporting workouts and newfound fitness.  Even though I've been hitting some highs in the gym and being pretty consistent with my runs these days, there has a been a lot more going on in life that feel like PBs to me:  work is going amazingly well; I am surrounded by fantastic friends; people are generous with their time and insights, and I don't know how I'll ever repay many of them; I feel optimistic about my future; and I feel like I'm doing what I'm meant to do in this world.

You know that feeling?  That feeling when it seems like things are falling into place and you're on the path that - out of all the options in the world out there - is the right one for you, right now?  Well, that's how I feel these days.  Maybe instead of posting about PBs, I should call this one about my BP (Best Path).

And being on my BP, my friends, makes me confident.

And I hope that you too feel confident and happy with where you are right now and whatever path you find yourself on.  And more importantly, if you find that you aren't all that happy or confident on your current path...try to get onto a different one...find your BP!

Over and out,

Joy

Being Good in Bali, or Lessons about Being 40

Joy here...This year The Man and most of his school friends turn 40.  It's a big year, a big milestone, and a chance to celebrate and take stock of where one is at this particular moment in time, poised midway between 20 and 60.  And the way one chooses to celebrate one of these milestones says a lot about where one happens to be at this milestone juncture.

One friend's birthday cake(s).

Another friend's birthday cake.

I have a theory that the way people choose to celebrate their marriages (or choose not to formally get married) says a lot about the particular couple at the time.  Some people thrive in huge celebrations, inviting everyone they know (and a fair number they don't know); some people focus on the big family aspect of the celebration; some choose a destination wedding to focus on the exotic; some want to make sure that everything is haute couture, from the dress to the food to the music; some elope in the middle of the woods with only nature there to witness; some have a quiet wedding at home with some family and friends etc. etc.

As The Man's friends have started celebrating turning 40 (and his is coming in less than 2 months), I'm seeing that these birthday celebrations say a lot about where these guys are at this point in their lives - be it celebrating with family all around in a kid-centred party, or refusing to celebrate at all in a bit of aging denial, to having a late night drinkfest. We headed to the island of Bali to help one of his friends ring in 40.

The walkway to the pool at our amazing hotel in Bali,
The Oberoi, which I highly recommend!

I've never been to Bali before, and there's loads to do and see on the island.  One of my girlfriends from high school who used to be a school teacher in Asia told me:  "Bali is bliss! Ubud is great. The Gili Islands are awesome as well as Lombok!."

But we've found ourselves really busy these days, so we didn't get to see any of that.  We flew into Denpasar on Saturday afternoon, celebrated the birthday on Saturday night, and then headed back to Kuala Lumpur on Sunday afternoon.  It was a quick trip.  Even the immigration guy took one look at my Canadian passport and asked, "only one day?" not understanding how or why someone would travel all the way from Canada only to stay overnight in Bali when there's so much to do and see.

But sometimes a short trip between intense work periods is better than no trip at all!

And given my newfound fitness and realization that I need to pay attention to details to make real progress, we headed to Bali with a commitment not to let the training fall off entirely, and to just "say no" to the booze.

The beautiful beach right at the edge of our hotel property.

Back when I was 18 or 19 a friend of mine and I had a running joke that "one leads to twenty" when it came to drinks.  And I've grappled with my tendency to binge drink once I get started since I was a teenager.  After one particularly embarrassing event early on in my PhD (when I fell down a flight of stairs), I didn't drink at all at any cocktail parties where professors might be throughout my doctoral work.  When studying for my comprehensive exams in the second year of my PhD, I swore off drinking entirely until after the exams (after which, I proceeded to get blindingly drunk and throw up on Ethan Hawke.  True story).

Now I've realized that my laissez faire or "more or less" attitude towards drinking has allowed me to drink a bit too much and back slide.  So lately, as I've focused on paying closer attention to the details of my life - from fitness, to professional, to personal etc. - I've started paying closer attention to my alcohol consumption.

A lovely virgin mojito.

And instead of heading to Bali with the attitude that I could just drink with the friend and help him celebrate his birthday, consequences be damned, The Man and I both promised each other that we wouldn't drink.  And we didn't.

Avoiding the booze in Bali may sound like a silly thing to be proud of.  But I've done much sillier things in my life when I've not avoided the booze, so I'll settle for pride and sobriety right now.

Over and out,
Joy

The "More or Less" Approach is just More Less!

Joy here...In September 2013, once I had settled a bit into our new life in Kuala Lumpur, I had a dream that a cobra bit my butt, and decided that this dream should serve as my "wake up call" that I had let myself and my fitness slide.

So The Man and I started working out twice a week with a personal trainer, and I struggled hard to ride my bike and go for a run every now and then.

Here I am in December; a bit thick around the midsection,
don't you think?
I mean, I'm not one to fixate on weight, but those look
like chubby cheeks to me...both sets of cheeks!

If you've read this blog, you will see that from September to December, my posts were filled with various insights about how I wasn't really hitting my workouts and wasn't really reaching my potential.  I tried and tried not to whinge and not to beat myself up in those blog posts, but the thread that runs through them is a thematic of guilt and shittiness.

After our early December 10km running race through Angkor Wat, when I ran the slowest 10kms I have ever done, I started to feel things beginning to shift and change in me. So in my new year's blog posts (one just before the dawn of 2014 and a tongue-in cheek one shortly after 2014 had started), I began to be and feel more optimistic.

Through nothing magical, nothing special, nor anything greatly insightful, I began to be more consistent.  And what has made the difference?  Well, I slowly began to realize that my previous "more or less" approach to training just produced more less.  What has changed things has been gathering folks around me - my running coach and my trainer - who are very detail oriented.  Put another way:  they really know their stuff.

Coach Woods knows his stuff, and helps me to
pay attention to the nitty gritty details.

My running coach, Coach Woods, has not only broken down the running stride into its component parts for me, but he's been invaluable in helping me deal with the mental side of running.  He talked me down off the ledge when I was beating myself up; he's given me practical advice along the way (such as "I always want you finishing each workout, and run, faster than you started.  If this means, shuffling/walking, then that is what it is going to have to be.  The goal is to always end on a positive note!" and "Like we talked about before, stay relaxed, and just try to plug away and get the sessions in.  I don't care how fast you are running, I just want consistency!"); and he just really knows what he's talking about, so I've been able to trust him to guide me through the process of getting over some of my mental hang ups to be consistent.  All of this attention to detail - both physical and mental - has made a world of difference to my running.

Adam, his wife Selina, and May Ooi.

And then add to that expertise the fact that I'm lucky enough to work not only with an elite-level athlete in Coach Woods, but also with elite level trainers in former strong man Adam Martin and former martial artist Kok May Ooi at Bodytech, around the corner from our place in Kuala Lumpur, and I'm starting to see that paying attention to little details - the little unsexy details such as consistency and form - are the things that are making a difference to my fitness.  I tend to be a "big picture" kinda gal; I come up with grand theories, and I approach the world with titanic-sized ambitions, so it can sometimes be easy for me to lose sight of the small details.  But without attending to the small details, the titanic sinks.  It's the details that matter.

This is what happens when you don't pay attention to details.
All the ambition and potential in the world, and you can still sink.

And lo and behold...by ditching the "more or less" approach and adopting a true attention to detail,  from December to now the start of May, I have seen my body begin to transform.  Now I've mentioned before my vexed relationship to thinking about sport through the lens of bodies, but the truth of the matter is that when my body is looking and feeling strong and healthy, there's a pretty good chance that my mind (and even my spirit) are feeling strong and healthy too.  I see, now, that by just slogging away, bit by bit, I've been able to change my reality, and the physical side of things is merely an external manifestation of everything else.


My trainer at the gym has even remarked on my progress, assuring me that I've made the best progress out of all his clients in the shortest amount of time; I can't fit any of my clothes and found myself buying a new pair of jeans in a size I haven't worn since I was a teenager; I can't help but kiss my biceps every chance I get; I've now squatted 90kgs and am aiming for 100kgs; I have just signed up for my first running race of 2014 on Canada Day; and all-in-all I feel like the future looks bright for me.

Why haven't I made this progress before?

Why haven't I been this fit before?

To misquote Tennyson:  "mine is not to reason why, mine is just to do or die!"  Instead of lamenting my past where I thought I was making progress "more or less," now I'm just going to keep my eyes forward and enjoy the progress that I am, in fact, making thanks to attending to the nitty gritty details.

I'm fit.  I'm happy.  I'm healthy.  I'm productive.  And I will lead my own charge onwards!

Over and out,
Joy

Thank you, Malaysia!

Joy here...Life has gotten rather interesting lately.

Not only have The Man and I developed a super duper interesting product for our future (which is sooooo exciting, I can't even say), but I've reached a level of fitness that I don't think I've ever had before.

Feeling fit, happy, and healthy!

Even though I've not been blogging regularly, I've been keeping up with my running, my cycling, and my strength training.  Since January, I've turned over that new leaf and been consistent with my workouts, and it's paid off.

A village road (with Genting Highlands in the
distance) where we ride our bikes.

But the pay off isn't just in looking or feeling fit, but rather in feeling spiritually fit.  And it's this spiritual side of things that has come as a bit of a surprise.  I mean, I have figured out a while ago that when I'm in good shape physically, my brain works best, but I hadn't really given much thought to my spirit.  To be honest, I find a lot of "spiritual" stuff out there to be a bunch of mumbo jumbo, and with all due respect to people whose religions are near and dear to them, I've often found myself feeling rather suspect of organized belief systems.  So imagine my surprise when it started to dawn on me that being fit and healthy started to bring some knock-on spiritual effects.

Usually the spring is a really hard time for me, as I struggle with the sticky tendrils of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), as I try to get rid of the icky feelings winter brings and keep myself together until the arrival of summer (I first blogged about these feelings back in 2010).  But this year, being based in Malaysia, has allowed me to escape all those nasty SAD feelings.

The world painted green.

Instead of looking out the window at a snow-covered world with a milkwater sky and a chill in the air - which is enough to make me crawl under the blankets and forgo any workout plans - I've been able to recharge myself in the lush greenery of the tropics year round.

I've taken advantage of it by allowing the greenery to become my church.  Out into nature I head - either on my bike or running - and as the leaves of the trees have made me realize that the one word "green" is so radically in adequate to capture the myriad shades it encompasses, I've felt my batteries being recharged.  I feel like I'm living the life that I'm supposed to be living, and with that sense of "rightness" comes a sense of purpose and peace.

And I can't help but think that that sense of peace is the hallmark of spiritual health.

While fellow Canadian Alanis Morissette thanks India, if I could sing, I'd be thanking Malaysia!

Over and out,
Joy

My life in treadmills...

I guess it's the Catholic in me.

Joy here…Often balancing life - especially travel obligations - and sport don't necessarily go well for me.  I have a history of dropping the proverbial ball when it comes to travelling and maintaining my sporting regimen.

I first realized this when I was training for my first-ever half marathon.  And again and again on this (and my last) blog, I end up rehashing my many failings when I travel (like this post from September, during my first trip back to Canada from Malaysia).

I was good and ate salads!

I fall off the wagon with my training; I eat too much of the wrong stuff; I drink too much; I don't sleep enough.  And when I return home to reality, I end up in an unproductive cycle of self flagellation.

But in the month of March I had to travel from Malaysia to Canada for a jam-packed session of work and socializing.  I'd be in non-stop 14-hour a day meetings; I'd celebrate my dad's 70th birthday with my family; I'd get to visit friends in Toronto I haven't seen in a while; I'd get to meet my friend's new baby son who is thriving after having open heart surgery; I'd get to show the prototype of our essay-drafting software project to interested parties and shareholders; I'd give a presentation at the University of Toronto for PhD students thinking about life outside the academy; I'd give a keynote address for a women's alumnae society etc. etc.  You get the picture: my trip was scheduled as a fully-booked whirlwind extravaganza, and I faced it with terrible trepidation, figuring that all it would take would be a couple of weeks to undermine all the progress I've made with my fitness over the past few weeks.

This is what greeted me upon my arrival.

I was afraid I'd eat crap.  I was afraid I'd do nothing.  I was afraid I'd come back to Malaysia and have to start all over again.

I boarded the plane (incidentally, at the same time and at the same airport as the ill-fated MH370, which, by the way, they still haven't found; but while that plane was bound for Beijing, my first transit was through Istanbul, so I was blissfully unaware of the missing jet for my whole long flight to Canada).

I landed in FREEZING Canadian weather, and while I missed my first planned run, I dutifully found treadmills throughout Canada to use - one at my sister's gym, one at the posh Ritz Carlton hotel in downtown Toronto, one in my dad's gym, one at the airport hotel, and one at the Mandarin Oriental upon my return to KL - so that when I got back, I think I was even in better shape than when I had left.

Treadmills galore...

...the view from the treadmill in my dad's basement...

...the view from yet another treadmill.

Back to self-flagellation again...

Now I'm left feeling a little bit silly for all those times that I travelled and fell off the working out wagon, drank too much, and ate crap.

Now all those other times seem like they were filled with silly excuses.

So now, I'm back to self-flagellation after all.

But at least I'm in shape!

Over and out,
Joy