BikeLife

Three years ago I decided I wanted to try biking in the city. My mom gave me her old bike and I hopped on. It was a disaster. I would huff and puff all the way to yoga class and would huff and puff my way halfway back home again, often opting to walk the 45 minutes home instead of bike. I got a temp assignment and would have to arrive 20 minutes early so I could change and cool off and try to get the redness out of my cheeks. I was a fat girl on a bike in EVERY sense of the word. I gave up and simply shrugged “I guess I’m not a cyclist”. That was the end of biking for me.

Last spring I decided I wanted to try biking again. My fabulous roommate Liz gave me her old bike that was just hanging out in the back yard, so I pumped up the tires, threw some oil on the chain and I was off. Biking went better than expected. I still huffed and puffed a bit, but for the most part I was fine. After a month, I was biking everywhere and didn’t buy a metropass for the rest of the year.

Last month I found a cheap used road bike online and bought it. It changed my life. While I loved my old bike with its cute basket and seat as wide as a La-z-boy, it was heavy and killed my knees. My ‘new’ road bike, though, was light and fast, with thin tires and badass tape. I rode it for 20 minutes and was hooked. I can’t imagine ever doing the Ride on my old, heavy, fat-tires bike! Biking now isn’t just a way to get around…it’s something I look forward to and something I want to do on weekends. Why sit around when you could be biking?

When I signed up for the Ride to Conquer Cancer, I was motivated, determined and excited to do something to kick this disease in the ass. I never thought I would become a cyclist or athlete (is there such a thing as a plump athlete who drinks too much and gets tired on hills?), much less inspire people. But every day I’m getting messages from people saying how proud they are of me and how much it means to them that I’m doing this. Who knew?! Not only does the encouragement motivate me to get out and train, but it makes me more and more excited to do this ride and show them that their kind words and donations are not for nothing.

As my ride gets closer and closer I get more excited and nervous and fidgety. It’s going to be hard and long, and right now they’re calling for a %40 chance of rain (oh god wouldn’t that suck?!)…but I’m really pumped and can’t wait to get on the road. With my friends cheering me on, I’m sure I can make it up any hill that comes my way.*

*except for the “Hamilton Hill”. Apparently it’s disgusting and a –literally- 45 minute climb. I’ll try my best…but am okay with walking that SOB.

I was RUNNING

I’ve never been a runner. When I was 14 years old my friend Lan and I decided we were going to start running before school. We got up early, would meet halfway and start running. For the first week, we both huffed and puffed and didn’t get too far, but Lan assured me that it would get easier. And it did.

For her.

Week two and she was fine, while I still had to stop every two minutes to try and force air into my lungs. By week three I gave up. Running wasn’t my thing. It hurt my chest, I didn’t seem to improve from one week to the next, and it was embarrassing to make my friend stop every couple of minutes for “fat” little me to catch my breath.

(“Fat” little me would grow up to realize that she would probably never again get to the weight she was at 14 and maybe 130lbs wasn’t that big)

So I’ve pretty much gone 12 years thinking that I wasn’t a runner and would just have to find other ways to do cardio. But the nicer it gets outside, the more my body wants to get out there and run! So I decided that I was going to try it. At Xlbs and 26 years old, I was going to learn how to run.

$160 later, I had shiny new shoes and shiny new motivation. Wednesday morning came along and my ever-motivating cat Lola decided she wanted to cuddle/eat at 5:45am, so I thought “ehn, why not?” and went for my very first run.

Since I didn’t have enough time to devote to the Couch to 5K podcast I downloaded, I just did a quick 15 minutes – run 1 min, walk 2 mins, repeated a few times. It was hard, but it was great! I was RUNNING. I wanted to go fast and sprint my way around my block, but heard somewhere that I was supposed to run slowly and “at a pace where [I] could hold a conversation”. So I went slow and felt good, save for my chest feeling like it was going to explode. I’ve always thought that I had exercise-induced asthma, but countered it with the thought of “maybe you’re just fat, that’s why you have a hard time breathing when you get your heart rate up to max”.

Anyways, blah blah blah I felt great. I went running again this morning (run 1 min, walk 1.5 mins) and, again, felt great. My legs don’t really know what they’re doing, but I’m sure they’ll get the idea.

So far I’m motivated and enjoying it! This being said, I haven’t tried to run for longer than a minute…so who knows how I’ll feel in two weeks. I plan on following the C25K program starting this Sunday, so hopefully I will be able keep at it and it’ll get easier! If I’m still struggling in a few weeks, to the asthma clinic I go.

I really don't want to be fat girl with a puffer.

How will I do it?

My Ride to Conquer Cancer is under three months away. Three months. Three months and I have to go from where I am now (7km a day in two 3.5km chunks to/from work) to biking 200km over two days. Three months to go from ‘chubby, slightly lazy girl’ to ‘muscular biking machine that helps cure cancer’.

I’m terrified.

When I first signed up for this I was motivated and pumped. Now I’m just scared. Scared that I won’t be able to make it. Scared that I’ll still be pushing the Xlbs of bleh that I call a body from here to Niagara Falls, instead of the much leaner Xlbs I was hoping to be at. Scared that I’ll get blisters. Scared that I’ll get a seriously bad farmers tan (biking jerseys don’t come in “strapless” styles, apparently). Scared that I’ll be lonely. Scared that I’ll be the weirdly-tanned fat girl crying by herself at Niagara Falls.

Welcome to my crazy.

I have less than three months to get up to biking 100km a few times a week, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it! Between rehearsals on Sundays, Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays, another rehearsal day that’s TBD, the odd comedy show, the run of the show I’m rehearsing for, trying to book myself stand-up gigs, working 8:30-5 every day…really guys, when am I going to find time to go on long bike rides?!

I could get up early and do a 7am spin class, but there’s so much planning involved in that (leave house at 6:20, bring change of clothes, bring breakfast vs. buying breakfast, get ready at gym, make sure I don’t go to bed too late…) I really don’t think I could do it every day. I could ride before my rehearsals on the weekend, but again it would mean getting up early (7:30) to ride for a couple hours, then home to shower/change/eat and back on the road to make my 12 or 1 rehearsal. Then I’d end up crashing afterwards and would probably never want to go out. Going for a three hour ride after work is not possible, though I have been getting on my exercise bike at home for at least half an hour every day. Add the fact that I need to do strength and core training, and…gah, why didn’t I do sports when I was a kid?

I need to get it into my mind that I’m not just doing some cancer thing in June…I’m training for a huge ride that’s going to be really, really hard. A marathon, for lack of a better word. Technically, I’m training for 4.7 marathons!

I suppose I need to get into the mindset of an athlete, but I’ve never been an athlete before. I’ve never HAD to exercise every single day. I’ve never HAD to make extra time to fit a long workout in. And I reckon that most athletes don’t have four or five rehearsals a week to work around. It’s really hard to try and figure out how the hell I’m going to do this without skipping rehearsals and/or crying.

So yeah, I’m scared. But, on a positive note, I’m stubborn and motivated. I’ll make it work.

And hey, if you ever want to go for a bike ride/do some crunches/do a spin class/go to yoga with me, give me a shout. It’s always easier to work out when there’s a friend working out beside you.

OhgodpleasecallmeIcantdothisalone.

A True Torontonian?

The older I get, the more stubborn I become.

I used to be a pretty passive, easy-going, happy person. Things wouldn’t get to me, I wouldn’t hold grudges, I was okay with every-day little “irks” and let them wash over me without a thought. Now, though, things are different. When someone doesn’t hold the door open as they walk through it (thereby slamming the door in my face when I’m right behind them) I get so angry I could scream. When someone challenges me on something, I’ll speak up and challenge them right back. I won’t let people walk all over me, and if someone doesn’t have time for me after I repeatedly make time for them, I stop putting in the effort and let the relationship fizzle out. Maybe it’s Toronto, maybe it’s all part of growing up, but I’ve definitely become a stubborn bitch.

I really should start doing yoga again.

All these bitchy things aside, though, my newfound trait really is doing great things for me!

If I set a challenge for myself physically, I do it. Whether it’s biking an hour straight, doing 25 squats instead of 20, or swimming to a point in a lake (then having to use a life jacket to swim back because I started sinking and my friend was worried I would drown), I set myself a goal and I do it. I have to finish it, or else I get pissed off and angry with myself.

I also set myself goals of learning two new things this year: Italian and the ukulele. I downloaded a free Italian podcast (which is absolutely fantastic and I would highly recommend if you’re interested in learning the language. They also have Spanish and French, too!) and practice it every day because I’m determined to learn by the summer. I go on YouTube and practice my uke every other day, even though it totally kills my fingers. I’m terrible at the ukulele, but am really pumped to learn at least a few things on it so I can use it on stage.

I used to start things and never finish them, but for whatever reason 2010 has brought along this new stubbornness (determination?) and I really like it. I like pushing myself and even find it a little bit exhilarating to be so competitive. I think it’s a great thing, and I feel it’s what will really lead me towards accomplishing big goals I’ve set for myself, like my 200km Ride in the summer, getting an agent, losing 50lbs and finding a hot Italian lover.

Aside from the whole “getting angry and wanting to yell at people because they’re so dumb” thing, I’m really digging this. I really should get into yoga again, though. I don’t want to be a totally cold-hearted bitch forever.

Thoughts about Weight-Loss 3: Counting Calories is Totally Whack

I've been on the "lose weight" wagon for a few months now and have been writing about it every now and then. I've decided to share some of it here, which scares the shit outta me. Admitting these things is hard and extremely personal, as I don't hold anything back...but I think that writing them down and letting people read them is going to be good for me. Freeing. Motivating, even. Who knows.

Counting calories is totally whack.

I’ve been counting my calories closely for about four weeks now and, slowly but surely, I’m starting to learn how many calories are in certain foods. I’m getting pretty good at guesstimating amounts in meals, too, which makes eating out easier. With a few more weeks of really paying attention, I think I’ll become pretty good at knowing things off the top of my head. It’s nerdily exciting!

I have a friend who told me she lost a ton of weight just counting calories, but soon became obsessed with it. I didn’t understand her at first; how could you become obsessed with counting calories? You just kind’ve know the numbers in certain foods and write it down…not that nuts. This last week, though, I’ve come to fully understand what she means. Calorie counting can take over your life. Once you really understand how everything works with calories going in and calories coming out, you realize just how much your body is like a machine…and it blows your mind!

Example: a large double-double at Tim Hortons is 300 calories. 300! For 300 calories you could eat an English Muffin and Two eggs. Or some salmon and veggies. Or 8 pieces of vegetarian maki. Or three and a half apples. So your morning coffee essentially adds up to an entire meal. Tack a muffin on that and you’re consuming around 700 calories in just one snack. (Needless to say I’ve switched from double-double to regular)

What do I have to do to burn off 700 calories? About 45 minutes of vigorous spinning or 55 minutes of moderate elliptical. About an hour of work to burn off one little snack! Can you imagine how long it would take to burn off a few slices of pizza or a delicious, greasy, oh-so-good Craft Burger?! And if you’re smaller than I am, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more work to burn all that crap off.

Your body really is like a machine – you give it fuel and it burns fuel. If you give it too much fuel, it’ll spill over and make a mess (in this case, a fatty, delicious Craft Burger mess that goes straight to my thighs). Calories in/Calories out. For whatever reason, I never used to think this way. I always knew I needed food to survive, but now I’m starting to look at food as fuel for my body instead of just fun things to eat. To me, it’s a pretty interesting mind-shift.

I once heard some Buddhists talking about how being reincarnated as a human is an amazing blessing, because you’re given the huge gift of having thoughts and love and emotion and kindness. Why would you want to treat this gift like a piece of crap? Who knows if you’ll ever come back as a human again? Treat your body well – it’s the motto of Buddhists, Jews, Hal Johnson and Joanne McLeod.

Now that I’ve started to understand calories, it is definitely easier to make healthy choices…and it’s definitely easier to feel guilty about pigging out. I like it, though. I like knowing how much I’m putting in and knowing how much I’m putting out, and hopefully it all adds up to a happier, healthier, burger-less me.

I’m finally staring to put out in a respectable way. Imagine that.

Thoughts About Weight-Loss 1: Emotional Cheating

I've been on the "lose weight" wagon for a few months now and have been writing about it every now and then. I've decided to share some of it here, which scares the shit outta me. Admitting these things is hard and extremely personal, as I don't hold anything back...but I think that writing them down and letting people read them is going to be good for me. Freeing. Motivating, even. Who knows.

My inner monologue on any given work day goes like this:

What the hell? What the hell?! You have SALARIES! You have FAMILIES! How have you made it this far in life and you still have NO IDEA how to put your dirty plate in the dishwasher/turn off a light when you leave a room/replace toner in the machine/call your voicemail? How does this happen?! Use your brain!

When people pile stupid stuff on me, it frustrates me to a point where I just want to run out of the office screaming. Instead, I push it down and smile. That's what a good receptionist does.
So here I sit, ten minutes before lunch, angry and frustrated because, yet again, someone didn't plan their time properly and they need something done TODAY and gave it to me to do. Ten minutes before lunch and I'm pissed off and frustrated and...I want a burger. I want a burger and fries and a coke and a chocolate bar and three glasses of wine and chicken wings.

Emotional eater? Heckyes.

When I first realized -really realized- I was an emotional eater, I had a bit of a breakdown before my breakthrough. I remember it clearly: I had a bad day at work so I stopped at the store on the way home. I bought myself a frozen pizza, some chocolate cookies, a bag of chips and a small bottle of gingerale. When I got home I put the pizza in the oven and sat on the couch stuffing my face with Doritos and cookies. When the pizza was ready, I ate half of it, then went back to more Doritos and cookies. I guzzled gingerale the whole time.

When my binge was done, I sat on the couch and cried. I was so full and felt so sick. Was my anger gone? Sure! But it was replaced by an absolute hatred of myself and my way of life. I didn't let myself go to the bathroom for six hours that night, because I knew if I went I would have put my finger down my throat and made myself throw up. It was the first time I had ever had a bullemic thought like that, and the first time I realized "Holy crap! I really AM an emotional eater!"

So I'm sitting here, four minutes before lunch, and I'm seething and trying to let the anger out creatively (not helping, btw) and my first thought is "screw the veggies I brought for lunch, I'm getting a burger!" Then I stop and think to myself "Wait, Jenny. A burger will make you feel gross and really won't help with your weight loss. Go to the gym instead."

...then I argue with myself. A burger WON'T make me sick and I'm going to the gym after work anyways, so whats the big deal? I can't go to the gym twice in one day, right? Maybe I could go buy new boots instead. Replace one bad, money-spending habit with another.

I hate that I'm an emotional eater and I hate that I crave junk food. I love, though, that I can now realize it and can stop and think about making a positive action instead of stuffing my face. It's a big step in the right direction, I think.

So now I'm here, one minute before lunch, and am salivating and hungry for grease and sugar. Instead I'll pop a few almonds, hit the weight room and try to get my anger out with a few 10-pounders.

A bitchy girl with 10-pounders is scarier than any big muscle man benching 150. Watch out.

The Women's Locker Room

The women's locker room is a weird place.

Not only do you have boobs hanging out everywhere, a lot of higher-pitched talks about "what she said to him and like I just don't think that's cool", and random women trying to enter in conversation while you're trying to change without showing them your cooch...but you have those few people who are so comfortable with their bodies that they just walk around naked.

I'm all for you being okay with your body; ma'am, I applaud the fact that you are so comfortable you don't try to hide when changing, and you're okay with taking off your pants in front of strangers. Good on you! But to just walk across the change room in nothing but flip flops is a little much. And when you start doing your hair or applying her makeup completely nude, I think you're crossing yet another line. I mean come ON! You're not at home!

The absolute worst is this woman that works out on Thursdays at lunch. It seems that every single time I go in there she's wearing no pants or underwear and is bending over with her ass facing the entrance the the locker bay. I get full ass and crack. She doesn't even just do it for a few seconds - I've seen this woman bent over completely naked and texting into her bag for 45-60 seconds. Ma'am, at least stand up. I don't need to see your crack.

Now, I'm all for women's bodies. Women are fucking hot! And hey, boobs everywhere is great! But if you're going to be walking around the change room in nothing but flip flops, I should be allowed to look. Do I? No. Never. Because that's not "right". They're putting it out there but I am too ashamed to look. Teases.

I think it's great that some people can be this comfortable with their bodies, but I just don't think it's "right". The locker room -as private as it is- is a public place and should be approached with some sort of decency and prudishness. If you're going to start doing naked stretches, as least throw a towel around your waist.

I just really don't want to see another bent-over crack.