New Westminster – Rant and Roll

Dear Momma: Here’s what happened in 2018

Hi Momma.

I know we talk a lot, but I wanted to take some time to lay out everything that’s happened since the beginning of March. It’s been such a busy, heartbreaking, extraordinary time.

Most mornings I wake up and forget that you’re not here.

Sometimes you’ll have visited me in my dreams – your way of stopping by and saying hello. I get glimpses of your life in New York or you’ll tell me about the old classmates of yours that you’ve decided to haunt.

I see your smile and hear your laugh and I when I touch you, it’s real.

Momma, I feel like I could pull you back into life.

Your magic, it burns brightly, everywhere.

You died on Thursday, March 8^th. International Women’s Day.

I was holding your hand while Suzan Maclean held the other. I think that she, like me, doesn’t really believe in a world without you.

The day I flew back home, I took a lot of your clothes. I took your light blue jean jacket and your tight black pants. That striped heart sweater that you bought in Brooklyn and your gray crop-top turtleneck.

A few of your sweaters still smell like you. Sometimes I hold them and breathe deeply.

Because I wear your clothes every day, all of my friends are obsessed with your style.

Many of them also have your postcard pinned up in their offices. They tell me that you inspire them to take risks, to wear colour, to try something new.

Hearing this and writing this makes me cry.

In April I joined a gym to learn how to get strong. You would have laughed because when I went in for my assessment, I couldn’t even do one squat. But working slowly and intentionally with my trainer Jules I have developed a new-found respect and appreciation for my body.

And I am getting strong.

Last week I deadlifted ninety kilograms. That’s one hundred and ninety-eight pounds! I know you’re probably thinking, “I just got her to stop running marathons through the mountains, and now she’s doing this?”

But you know that it’s your spirit that drives me.

Thanks for that Momma.

I am sorry to say that I’m still not doing yoga but I do keep your beautiful bag in my office so that I see it every day. When I do start a regular practice, you will, of course, be the first to know.

I’ve started seeing a wonderful grief counsellor who has helped and continues to help me so much. I was seeing her every week and now go about once a month. I also have an amazing “grief community” here in New West, made up beautiful, strong and inspiring women.

You would love every one of them.

They are often who I call when I’m can’t drive because I’m crying too hard, or when I’m paralyzed by grief in some grocery breakfast aisle, or when just the thought of living in this world without you is too overwhelming for words.

Their love helps me.

So does that of my friends. And of Kate and Jessi. Marc.

They all hold me close when all of my pieces are breaking apart.

I cry almost every day.

I hope this doesn’t make you sad. Because I know that the only reason it hurts this much is because of the depth and the beauty of our love.

I think a lot about this when I run. There is a tree down at the river boardwalk here in New Westminster that I call “The Momma Tree”. It reminds me so much of you because of its vibrant colours and delicate leaves. Every time I run by it, I whisper a hello to you and high-five your branches.

Your magic, it burns brightly, everywhere.

This November I ran the Fall Classic 10k and placed ninth. It was one of the harder races I’ve run because I had just had gum surgery two weeks prior and couldn’t exercise at all in the lead up, because it might disturb my graft and slow my recovery.

Not to point fingers, but this gum recession is definitely genetic and it’s definitely from your side of the family.

At first I was so disappointed and I cried at the finish line. I’ve been chasing the elusive sub-40 time for so long and I felt so tired of trying and failing. But Marc held me and helped me.

I know you’ve always loved how delicate he is with me.

Here are some other things that have happened this year, so much with our strength and love:

In May, I attended my first New Westminster Community and Social Issues Council Committee meeting. That same month I also started working on my first municipal political campaign, helping my incredible friend Nadine Nakagawa get elected to city council.
In June, I presented at Pecha Kucha and spoke about you and grief and love and compassion. Marc and I celebrated our ten year wedding anniversary.
In July, I filmed my favourite story of the year at the Sharing Farm in Richmond. In total this year, I wrote over 70 stories for United Way and shot 15 videos.
In August, we welcomed beautiful Loic Stewart to the world, and I have loved every moment of being his aunty. I pour love into him. Just like you did with us.
In September, I joined the New Westminster Hospice Society’s board of directors. I was the first woman up Grouse Mountain for United Way’s Tech Grind, even though I couldn’t officially compete. (Yes Momma, I am that competitive.) I hosted a fun night of improv with a local feminist collective, MCed a wedding with twelve hours notice and managed to take another selfie with my mayor and council after presenting about United Way Day.
In October, I moderated the New Westminster Chamber of Commerce’s All Candidates Debate which was exhilarating and if there is just one thing I wish I could have had you there for, this was it. I started my Compassionate City Crew training with New West Hospice and hosted a very fun Halloween dinner party. You would have loved Marc’s and my costume – I was a lawyer and he was the devil, so we were The Devil’s Advocate.
In November, I took a stand against racism in my city, attended the annual civic dinner, completed my hospice training, moderated a panel on brand building and philanthropy, shared a story at The Flame about my absurd decision to get eyelash extensions and hiked around Whistler with Marc for our anniversary.
This month there are story performances and holiday get-togethers and both Kate and Jessi are making your gingerbread and I can’t stop crying whenever I sing along to the Barra MacNeils’ Christmas albums.

Just know that I think about you every day. I miss you every day. I see you in a soft rose gold sunset. In the wind that blows the hair from my face. In my dark roots that always grow in no matter how often I dye my hair blond.

You’re the blood in my veins, the green in my eyes. My smile. My laugh. My long legs and cold hands.

Momma, I carry you close.

And I will never stop missing you.

I wrote you this letter even though I know you know all of this.

Because you’re in the sky.

Sea. Land.

Air.

Mommm. Momma. Momma.

You and your magic are everywhere.

Live Out There Exclusive: “How to hit the gym before work”

Any veteran reader of Rant and Roll will know that I have a storied history with the gym. In fact, the first time I was freshly pressed (way, way back in 2012!) it was because of a post about how I both loved and loathed my (then) gym.

However, when I suffered a small tear in my right calf muscle last fall, and rejoined the land of the gym dwellers, I had no idea how much I would love incorporating the gym into my early mornings! This month on Live Out There, I wrote about how you too can learn to love hitting the gym before the sun rises, and how to get the most out of your workout.

I used to balk at the idea of getting up and exercising before work. My line of reasoning? I had to wake up early enough, so why the heck would I ever choose to rise before necessity strictly demanded it of me? Sleep, after all, is a hugely valuable commodity and I was fiercely proud of my ability to distill my morning routine down to the bare minimum. At my best I could get my (very presentable) self out of the door in twenty minutes or less.

But then I moved to the lovely little Hamlet known as New Westminster and began taking the skytrain into my job every day. At the station closest to my house there is Dynamic Fitness, a lovely, evenly priced gym, and last autumn, as I nursed a torn calf muscle, I took out a membership. I thought I would give a pre-work workout a try, just to see if I could hack an early morning sweat. I could use the gym’s showers and leave my stuff in a locker during the day. What did I have to lose?

Continue reading my top tips for transitioning to early morning workouts here.

I got tunnel vision

First. I implore you all to listen to this song as you read this entry:

I am seeing Yukon Blonde next Friday night in celebration of my 31^st year living amongst all of you lovers and lunatics, and in preparation, I’ve had this tune on mega replay.

I hope you enjoy.

Onwards!

Today I was meaning to venture back to Buntzen Lake (land of lost toenails and forgotten sandwiches), and run 24 kilometers. However, when I awoke this morning my heart was feeling a little heavy, and the sky outside was hanging so terribly low. Knowing that this malaise would not bode well for an incredibly long and tough training session on unfamiliar terrain, I thought instead to keep to a route I have completed many times prior.

There would be nothing wrong with saving the trails for another day.

When I set out to run the 19 kilometer loop from my house (I run to Edmonds Skytrain, across the Queensborough Bridge, down the Quay and home), the temperature read 3 degrees, and it was raining.

Everything about this was manageable. I love long runs in the rain, and like I wrote previously, I am trying to acclimatize myself to running in colder temperatures.

This would be good practice, and thus, I forwent a toque and gloves.

The first indication that I might have misjudged my need for these accoutrements, was about two kilometers into the route when it really started to rain.

I kept imagining the raindrops to be infinitesimal water balloons exploding on my face the moment they made contact with my skin. There were even a few times when I questioned whether or not I was actually crying, because I could feel so many of them sliding down from the corner of my eyes, along my cheeks, and into the crooks of my ears.

(They were also really, really cold.)

The iciness of the rain was augmented by the strong, driving wind. Depending on the direction I was running, it would whip up against my long sleeve shirt and press the soaked fabric hard against my skin. I kept cramming my thumbs into my fists in an attempt to mute some of the frosty sting that had settled into both digits.

Yet despite all of this (or perhaps even because of this), I actually had a run that was absolutely out of this world.

It didn’t matter that I got sprayed by semi trucks whilst running over the bridge, or that I had “Tunnel Vision” by Tokyo Police Club stuck in my head for the entirety of the run.

I felt fantastic. I felt like I was flying.

(Quick aside and question for all runners reading this: Do you ever get to a place where you sing the same four bars of music over and over again for the entire length of a run? It is a constant in my training life.)

Truly, the only slightly unfortunate thing about the entire experience was when I arrived home and I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror.

Suffice to say that I looked FUCKING CRAZY.

Before I left, I had parted my hair down the middle and then braided it down the length of my back, and tucked my (now grown out) bangs behind my ears. However, between the wind, rain, and general propulsion of my body for 19 kilometers, they had matted and tangled themselves into some sort of insane halo-birds nest mashed atop the crown of my head.

And folks?

This. This is not a good look.

Marc told me that he hadn’t wanted to say anything due to my elation at the success of the run.

“But yeah,” he said. “You looked totally nuts.”

In the end, I ran 19.3 km in approximately 1:20. I’m chalking this up to my first week of two-a-days, my insatiable craving for Ms. Vickie’s salt-and-vinegar chips, and Yukon Blonde.

Because, after all, it is Saturday night.

Let’s get together and feel alright

My life currently revolves around three things:

1. Running.

Scotiabank half-marathon this weekend! I’ve raised almost $1,200 and it’s going to be an absolute hoot of a run.

Sub 1:30 or bust!

2. Bring up the Bodies (by the AMAZING Hilary Mantel)

This woman is an absolute genius. She makes me want to create beauty.

3. HOMELAND.

OMG.

Are you dudes watching this!?

IT’S SO GOOD. (Although mega, mega stress-inducing.)

Also, the whole world needs more Mandy Patinkin.

Meanwhile, around the apple orchard:

Oh hi there.

Delicious treats.

Godzilla-fied New Westminter.

Close cribbage games.

Post-talk flowers.

…

So blue haroo, and pip pip, and all that my good chaps.

I hope this week is filled with all the good things.

And more.

Come on baby, strut your stuff

It was the Hyack festival and parade today in New West.

After completing our morning training session, M and I sat out on sixth street and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the different cultural and community groups that are alive and kicking in our little city.

I really love going to parades, but for some reason I always have a really hard time not crying while I watch all the different floats and parties go by.

(I understand that this is really strange.)

I’m not sure exactly what it is, and like I said, I am the first to confirm just how weird this affliction of mine may be – it’s just that every time I find myself lining a parade route – BAM!

Like clockwork, I choke right up.

I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I cannot ever see a procession of elderly war veterans without getting a huge lump in my throat.

I immediately start to think of my granddad, and that folks, that just destroys me.

So you can imagine I was working extra hard to keep it together when these dudes walked by today:

I also have a HUGE thing for pipe bands, so the fact that I was treated to three different groups over the course of two hours – cor. I was happy as little Scottish clam.

No.1

No. 2

No. 3

Although, I have to say, nothing brings on the waterworks like the bagpipes.

I was a highland dancer for many, many years and nothing stirs my soul quite like ye olde cornemuse.

But I digress.

My favourite group was the Bangladeshi society who carried these absolutely beautiful bird puppets in their procession.

Check it:

I also met this guy:

The weather around these parts of late has been completely off the charts. I really, really hope it stays like this for a very long while.

All day today M and I bopped about our neighbourhood – walks down to the Quay for french fries (me) and beef brisket sandwiches (him); sushi down at the old Met hotel; wine and the NYT crossword out on our balcony; training runs in the park.

Oh, OH! I also bought a long (a little past knee length on me) forest green pleated skirt – actually, it is a skirt with a sheer pleated overlay – and believe me when I say that it is darling and a half.

I will wear it to work on Monday and be sure to take a snap to show off it’s gorgeosity (yes, I did make up that word, but I love it so moving on.)

I have been really quite stressed at work for the last little bit, and one giant project (it has been in the works since the beginning of February) is finally coming to a head at the end of next week. I cannot even begin to communicate how happy I will be to have closure on that part of my work year.

Today was a really nice way of putting my job on the back burner, if but for a little while. Though I cannot wait for the day when it will not even be on the stove (July baby, you are not coming quick enough!)

I hope you all have had a terrific first half of your weekend.

And that your stove tops remain clear of any employment related activities.