Packing up (Week 33)

Today marks a day and a weekend of changes.

I had my last day of full time, permanent employment. I am now in the world of scrambling, casual, unpredictable employment. This makes me nervous and messes with my brain.

I made the choice a month ago that if I was ever going pursue my dream, it should be now.

Most of my dreams involve fanciful hilarity and sarcasm; this one is different.

I earned my B.Ed in 2010. I want to teach.

So I shot-putted my future and my family’s future. NO PRESSURE. And I hope to find a position in a school or at least enough substitute teaching to keep us with a roof and ramen.

So this weekend, along with being a major milestone in stupidity athleticism, is also a transition and a leap of faith.

So today I packed up my office and I packed my bag for the airport tomorrow.

Are either of these the right move? It is too soon to tell.

Life is changing.


Where have you been all my life? (Week 33)

I have been alive; I have had both successes and failures, probably more of the latter than the former.


  • Fairly active this entire summer.
  • Running with a small child learning to ride a bike. Seriously though, I think my child will never be able to ride and it will be all MY fault. I am terrible at this.
  • Running without above small child.
  • Running over HILLS WITHOUT injuring myself. (proof below)
  • Eating better. This was not part of the plan but I am pretty happy about it.


  • Keeping up a schedule of running and a plan (also have never kept up a flan either).
  • Running at a quicker pace. I AM SO SLOW.
  • Injuring my knee while crossing my legs during a job interview. It doesn’t hurt much to stand or run but sitting, kneeling, or lying down are all incredibly painful. So sleeping is terrible.
  • Writing about this journey. Life has been busy and work has been busy and decision making is hard.
  • Leaning on others for support. Because I am a stubborn fool.

But this weekend will be the end of my running journey (permanently?).

21.1 km through Regina.

Gasping and crying and wanting to stop.

Chugging copious amounts of liquid for a thirst that cannot be quenched.

With a group of four of us sister-in-laws who are all in dire need of more training, more time, and the strength to make it through.

We will do it though.

And then we will get our sweaty, stinky, exhausted bodies together and hold each other up and take a picture of this journey.


Happy Birthday Husband


I cannot friggin’ believe you are 34.

We met when you were 20 and I was 19. We were both independent, pig-headed, ‘always-right’, and direction-less.

We still are (in some ways).

Things that have happened on your birthday have ranged from the mundane to the extraordinary (and the extraordinarily stupid).

I will save you from the sordid details of birthdays past. To Quinn: you are welcome. To all others: I am sorry you will not get to shake your head, cry, and laugh at my husband’s expense; it is one of the perks of being together for so many birthdays.

I have been thinking often lately about our relationship. I tend to do this when our life goes through momentous changes or tragedies (so I think a LOT).

So I give you “Things I Love About my Husband”

Actually I wasn’t sure on how to start something like this and I find it tough to be smooshy and gushy and lovey and serious. So I went in search of ideas on how I wanted to format it. Maybe a list or a letter or I could try and incorporate action movie quotes? Maybe I could correct and alter a really mushy, cheesy love song?

I changed my mind; I decided that this is more of a list of

“Things my Husband Should Never Stop Doing”

and should not be confused with “A List of Things my Wife will Never get Frustrated About and/or Complain About”

Don’t stop hoping and dreaming. I don’t ever want to hear you say, “I can’t do that because <insert some lame reason here>” Unless the lame reason is me and I told you not to do that ever.

When I met you, I met someone who left school in grade 9. Most people would stop dreaming university dreams but not you.

Don’t stop having lame jokes. They sometimes make me grimace but it may be part of your charm.

When I met you, I thought you were funny. I didn’t know you were ripping off jokes from the Comedy Channel.

Don’t stop spewing far too much info about Crossfit/religion/politics/whatever-else-you-get-hooked-on.

When I met you, I wasn’t interested in any of those things. Your passion makes me have passion and I like that.

Don’t stop believin’; hold onto that feelin’. Now what are the rest of the lyrics to the song, Quinn?

When I met you, you knew all the wrong words to many songs and sang them loudly. That hasn’t changed. Continue that… because that is funny shit.

Don’t stop watching super hero cartoons with your daughter. She loves them

When I met you, you were a comic book nerd/badass. It’s good for your personality so keep it up.

Don’t stop. I want to push you to do/be everything.

When I met you, my aspirations were small and simple. You have pushed me through my BEd degree, exercise programs, mothering, and working. I simply cannot do things as well without you. Most of them I would not have even attempted.


I love my daddy


I love my daddy because he is so kind. I love my daddy because he is always nice when I am afraid. Daddy is the best except for Jesus because he is so nice and gentle. He gets mad at me sometimes but he says sorry and forgives me.

I have a funny story for you. I shot poop at my daddy when I was a baby.

I have another story to tell you. I said, “I love you.” And my daddy said, “I love you, too.”

The following are questions I asked Trin about her daddy:

How old is your daddy?


What is your daddy’s middle name?


What is daddy’s favourite colour?


What is daddy favourite TV show?


What is your daddy’s favourite sport?


What is your daddy’s favourite food?

I don’t remember but those mashed potatoes stuff. No, not that. I don’t remember but what are those things with cheese on them that look like potatoes and have white on the outside? (perogies)

What’s your daddy’s favourite game?


What is your daddy’s job?

Hope mission

What does he do there?

He helps people who are sick or really old.

What is daddy’s favourite rock n’ roll band? (question requested by Trin)


Does daddy have any hobbies?

Loving me and mommy.

If daddy were a superhero, what would would his power be?

To save everyone like superman. He could shoot lasers out of his eyes, shoot cold air out of his mouth, and be really strong.


Excitement Building (Week 16 aka the week with no time for editing)

Made it to Calgary last night.

The other Vanessa picked me up and took me to her home. She fed me and watered me (with ~fancy~ glasses) and put me to bed.

She agreed to work out with me while we are in Vegas and in a show of insanity we started this morning.

I did my 80 squats and the joined her in the last 15 minutes of her Turbo Jam workout.

Up next is getting clean, picking Melissa up from the airport (not to be confused with Melissa), and then later on meeting Melissa (not to be confused with Melissa) at the airport to catch our flight to Vegas.

Far and Away (Week 16)

I am on the road. After a busy weekend of an eight year old niece’s birthday pool party, cleaning my house, having my baby sister’s SO stay overnight last night, squatting, packing my bags, and repacking my bags, I am finally moving.

I write to you from the comfort of the 3.5 hour greyhound bus trip to Calgary. It would be more comfortable if the wifi onboard was significant enough to run any apps on my iPad. But I cannot even upload or save this post. Peachy keen. My plan of watching too much Netflix was foiled. But it isn’t bad. It is a far cry better from the STC experience from when I was a small child.

Plugins, comfortable seating, “wifi”, and cup holders are pretty luxurious.

I remember talking with the STC bus drivers on my trips around Saskatchewan. And I longed for their job. Even at a young age I remember asking them about how routes were chosen, how many hours they worked, where they stayed each night, how long they had been driving, and I thought it was glamorous. Even when I finally did get my license I enjoyed driving long distances. I was always up for a road trip.

And today I head to Calgary to meet up with my friends. We are going on our ‘grownup’ trip. The two Melissas and the two Vanessas (seriously) are headed to Vegas.

My mission: to not feel so old and surmise that we should have done this trip 10 years earlier 😉

Tomorrow we all fly out. I packed my runners and my sports bra. I hope I am disciplined enough to use them. Or maybe I hope that I am unable to complete that task. Either way, I will keep you all posted.

Shoot me now (Week 15)

I am sure glad my antibiotics had a chance to work the past 1.5 days.

The outdoor crosscamp was full of cardio and my lungs are on fire. Maybe I need wine to put it out?

The slow jog to the location worked okay. My leg muscles responded in the normal way: ouch, err, oh yeah, and then ahhh. My lungs began to protest once the 3 sets of those awful stairs began. They just flat out told me, “Nope.” Run, run, wheeze, run, run, wheeze, walk, gasp, walk, run, run, wheeze….

Things got worse once we hit the bridge.

3 rounds of:

15 presses with the band thing
10 squat jumps
15 chest flies with the band
20 scissor jump things
Sprint from the middle of the bridge to the end and then back again

My sprinting was jogging to the end… And then gasping and clutching my chest like an old lady clutches her pearls. And then walking most of the way back.

I muttered or yelled many unladylike things. I declared a lot of things ‘holy’ that aren’t necessarily so.

Especially when the above 3 rounds turned into 4. I shook my fist at Angie though not to her face because she is ripped and terrifies me.

We did other exercises afterward but I simply cannot recall them.

And since my supper is finally ready, I am not even going to edit this post.