5 Reasons Why Living In The Arctic is More Than Just OK

Posted on 1 February 2010 | 1 response

I know I complain about living in the arctic during the winter months, but there are at least 5 good things about it.

1. Shock. No one believes it when you casually mention that on your birthday it was -46.1 Celsius, making it nearly the coldest place on the planet that day. AND that you still worked out, went out for lunch with friends, and spent the day shopping. It seems too epic to be real.

2. Boots. You need boots to live here and more than one pair. It is completely practical and rational to have at least 10 pairs of boots to go with all your outfits. I have yet to arrive as I only have 8 pairs. At least living in the arctic gives you good reason to go shoe shopping!

3. Christmas Pounds. There is no hurry to shed the extra pounds gained over Christmas from eating scads of unhealthy foods while visiting with friends and family. Many layers, large coats, and heavy sweaters are required so you don’t die from exposure.
Is that muffin top 10 Christmas pounds or a bulky sweater…hmmmm….

4. Appreciation. When summer finally comes around there is a deep appreciation for warm weather, the ability to wear a tank top without dying, and sunlight. We are extremely grateful that we don’t have to plug in our cars, wear long underwear under our suits, or go to work and come home in the dark.

5. Winter Sports. Now I am not an outside dweller in the winter, but I married one. Skiing, speed skating, and ice hockey only require sports equipment and either your backyard or a friend’s. Fun times are literally just around the corner. Or for me, just in a coffee shop!

What do you like about dwelling in the arctic?

Running the Path of Life

Posted on 29 January 2010 | No responses

This morning I was jolted awake by the Kings of Leon’s Use Somebody and extremely loud beeping noises.

When my left eye finally cracked open, I saw three blurry numbers glaring back at me.

5:27

Apparently it was time to get up. In a moment of weakness, I had promised a girlfriend that I would meet her at the YMCA at 6:30 to go for an early morning run.

The only part of my body that was able to move was my left arm as it slapped the snooze button with authority.

Eight seconds later I was back into a solid REM cycle.

5:36

The loud voice of my favorite radio personality, Garner Andrews, was suddenly blaring in my ear. In that moment he was no longer my favorite.

I dragged my lazy self out of bed and finally opened both eyes. It wouldn’t do to be late for my early morning run. After all, today was my girlfriend’s first day back from a seven week absence due to injury.

As we ran in the cool -12 Celsius weather we caught up on each other’s lives. We shared the joys, trials, and funny moments since we had last seen each other.

Due to her injury, she was much slower than her usual pace; but it didn’t bother me at all. There have been many times when I was the slower one. The important thing was that we were out running.

You can’t do life alone; it is meant to be run together.

Who do you run the path of life with? Who makes sure you get your lazy self out of bed in the morning? Who are you sharing your life with, no matter what the pace?

When you do, you will find yourself doing things you never thought possible.

Yoga. Is it just for the bendy?

Posted on 27 January 2010 | 8 responses

Jon finally convinced me to go to a yoga class after several weeks of wheedling.

He claimed it is ‘fun’.

Most women already know this, but I am going to restate it for those that don’t.

Men are liars.  They lie to get women to do things they want.  In this case, it was yoga.

Upon entering the ‘fun’ yoga studio, I was greeted by bendy people wearing very tight clothing.  I felt like the chubby girl that tries out for cheerleading; awkward, out of place, and not sure what to do next.

While clutching my Pilates mat to my chest, I noticed the lithe yoga people were gathering yoga supplies of blocks, mats, blankets, pillows, cords, and bolsters from a cart on the wall. This was my first real yoga class – no one told me I needed to bring along a yoga checklist!

Luckily the instructor noticed my blank stare and got me all the necessary supplies.

Then the torture began.

While she had us bent up like some sort of contortionist and seated on the floor, she told us to rest our head lightly on the floor in front of us.  I was bending as far as womanly possible and my head was a good two feet from even coming close to the floor.  It was so absurd that I started to giggle.  I had a sense that laughing in the calm, unhurried space of yoga class would be unacceptable so I desperately tried to hold it in.  Unfortunately, the laughter came out in pressured bursts with large amounts of spit.

My uncontrollable giggling was not appreciated.  I quickly sobered up by thinking about sad things like never being able to have chocolate ever again.

She had us try to do things that are completely impossible while saying all manner of words that had more vowels than consonants and at least 12 syllables.  Due to my lack of fluency in the yoga language, I just watched to see what the rest of the class did and desperately tried to mimick their movements.

At the end of class we did some final stretches to ‘completely loosen up’ all our tight muscles.  She led us through a stretch that involved putting your left foot on your right knee, bending into a squat, leaning forward, and then merely doing a handstand to deepen the stretch.  Simple.  Right?

I couldn’t get past step two in the task.  There was no way a pretzel handstand was up next.  There are only so many times a woman should risk her life doing stupid things and this was not one of those times for me!

Yoga is for masochists. It’s an hour and a half of doing torturous things that are impossible for the average woman.

Apparently I fall into this group because I am toying with the idea of going back.

Perhaps it was the sense of satisfaction of not being dead at the end that hooked me.  Who knows?  All I know is that I better keep the giggles under control if I go back!

Best Monday EVER.

Posted on 25 January 2010 | 6 responses

I did not leap out of bed at 5 am to go work out.

I slept in and was late.  No Green Monster smoothie for me.

The grouchiness settled in and nothing good could come out of today.

After all it’s Monday.

All of my Mondays tend to be horrible, no good, very bad days for no reason in particular.  I am apparently hardcoded to have a bad day on the first day of the week.

Until today.

Today is possibly the best Monday I’ve ever had.

I came in to work to see this at my desk.

Upon opening it, a very exciting box winked up at me.

My FREE boots from Sally McGraw’s contest had arrived!

Aren’t they gorgeous?!

Thank you Tsubo and Sally McGraw, you have changed the landscape of my Mondays forever.

I guess all a woman needs is a free pair of boots to make Mondays fabulous.

What would make your Monday fabulous ?

What would you pay for the PERFECT body?

Posted on 20 January 2010 | 5 responses

This evening I went for my weekly near death experience of working out with my trainer to help me get rid of my muffin top.

While I struggled to sit up for the 37^th time, he posed an interesting question.

“What would you pay to wake up tomorrow and have the perfect body?”

Immediately I wondered if the bank would give me a line of credit for such a thing.  Perhaps I could say it was a business venture.  Or I could sell all my shoes…how much would my shoe collection bring on Ebay?  Hmmm….

Right away I realized I would have to sell some organs on the black market to make this dream a reality.

A hundred thousand?  Two hundred-fifty thousand?  What would it be worth? Would you pay more than what your car was worth brand new?

After thinking about it, I don’t think I would pay much at all.

I would wake up being the same exact woman I was on the inside with an outside that was my idea of perfect.  Nothing would change what I dislike about who I am, my confidence, or my fear of chasing my dreams.  I would merely be a very hot woman that has all the same issues, problems, insecurities, and psychoses.

“What would you pay to wake up tomorrow and be confident in who you are?”

That’s the real question.

The wonderful thing is that you don’t have to pay a dime.  You could wake up tomorrow and choose to be satisfied in yourself and know that everything about you is worth enjoying.

Today I am choosing to like everything about myself; even the muffin top.

Being fully you and proud of yourself is gorgeous.

Paying to wake up beautiful is what Hollywood does…and let’s be honest, they really don’t have it together over there.

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