While all the cool kids my age were listening to Nirvana, I was busy grooving to Reba, Garth and Little Texas. Mock my pre-teen taste if you will, but this song is a jam.
After work I met Katie at Mount Doug and we hiked. I was so excited for my hot chocolate date with my internet crush, but slowly the nerves started creeping in. Katie came over and watched TV while I made us dark and stormy cocktails (to take the edge off) and dinner. She gave me her opinions on my outfits. We laughed a lot. Then I went to meet him, my internet crush, Kurt, at a coffee shop downtown. He is smart and funny and we have a lot in common. He doesn’t drink coffee, which is weird, but I think I can get past that. Maybe. He certainly does have the gift of the gab though, wow. It went well, I thought, but then I love the initial meeting, getting to know someone. Everyone is interesting in the first 5 hours you spend with them. It’s the time after that that I struggle with. When I got home I wanted to text him to say thanks, to say that I had a nice time, but Katie said don’t. Be cool, she said. I could like this guy. We will see.
I’ve totally become a bougie spa lady and I love it. Twenty-year-old me would be devastated that I’m about to spend a weekend in some mineral pool on a beach instead of protesting against or advocating for something, but whatever. Twenty-year-old me no longer exists.
Not too long ago, after spending a solid eight hours enjoying the mineral pools at the Oak Bay Beach Hotel, I ended up in a conversation with a woman in the change room. The pools here were even better than the ones in Whistler, she told me, had I been? No, not yet, I said. She had started a conversation after hearing me mention that the amenities (individual combs, razors, creams, etc) at the Peninsula Beverly Hills were unbelievably good (where I actually only used the bathroom, but she didn’t need to know that). I was almost mocking in the way I initially engaged with her. Do I look like the kind of person who can afford to vacation at the spas in Whistler? But then she asked me if I had ever been to Sparkling Hill, and she got me. All my judgement fell away as we chatted about how incredible their seven different steam rooms are. What about Ti-Na-Mara? she asked. Oooh, I’m heading there next month! It’s pretty good there, you’ll like it, she assured me on her way out of the change room.
After she left I turned to my friend Elexa, shocked, At first I was like, why is this bougie spa lady talking to me? And then I realised that I am a bougie spa lady. And I have absolutely no apologies about it to my twenty-year-old self, or anyone else for that matter. Spas rule and I’m incredibly lucky to have a life that allows me enjoy them, if only a couple times each year.
(Upon re-reading I realise how braggy this post is. I’m going to publish it anyways. I’ll be too busy enjoying Ti-Na-Mara this weekend to write something more humble.)
Considering I’m the least patient person on the planet, I’m pretty lucky that my most anticipated album of 2015 got released only a few weeks into the New Year.
The Decemberists’ What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World
It’s beautiful and complicated and simple all at the same time, like most Decemberists albums. I like it more than anything they released during their weird old-world-psuedo-misogynistic phase, but definitely not as much as their last album, This King is Dead.
I’m waiting rather impatiently for them to announce tour dates in either Vancouver or Seattle…or even Victoria, though I’m not getting my hopes on that. Seeing them live is on my musical bucket list.
I have a job that lets me travel. Sometimes to exciting places like Congo or Madagascar, but more often to places like Vancouver where I spent the last five days.
I have a job that lets me travel, not so often that it becomes a burden, but often enough that I’m comfortable and excited about it.
I have a job that lets me travel and allows me flexibility around those days, so I could could take Thursday and Friday off last week to see my friends and family, trail run in Lynn Valley, and eat tacos at a few different restaurants.
I have a job that occasionally requires me to work 20 hours overtime in one week, such as last week. And though I’m exhausted at the end of it, there wasn’t any point where it actually felt like work.
Have you heard Benjamin Booker yet?
Here is a confession: over the last year and a half I have tried, numerous times, to get back into the physical shape I was in when I turned 30.
I have publicly declared my resolve, my fitness plans, my diets. I have have made running a commitment several times and occasionally succeeded. I have incorporated yoga and strength training. I have traded in the beer and donuts for vegetables and protein. Mostly. And despite all of this, I have not reached my goal.
While I can’t say for certain why I have never achieved this particular goal, I think I have an idea. I think it might be because the only thing at stake was change, and not a huge one at that. It would mean being able to easily run 20km instead of 8km. It would mean fitting comfortably into a size 8 instead of a size 10. A change, but not a huge one. And when the status quo isn’t that bad to begin with, change isn’t always the biggest motivator. At least it hasn’t been for me, as evident in my pant size and how much I wheeze at the 10km mark.
Well, last week I changed the stakes.
On January 7th I signed up for a 25km trail run on Vancouver’s (incredibly mountainous) North Shore. This is serious. On January 7th I could get through a 10km run on road, but not much beyond that. I’ve got (less than) 2 months to increase my fitness big time. Change is no longer the unsuccessful motivator. Instead it’s the Dirty Duo race. It’s not embarrassing myself. It’s about finishing and not dying in the process.
I’m only 6 days into training for this and I already know it’s a motivation game changer.