Kashi Go Lean +
Bran Buds +
PC Ancient Grains +
flax meal +
bee pollen +
plain yogurt +
drizzle of honey +
splash of milk =
Breakfast of (mortal) champions.
Or, as we Angle-Gatinoise say, champignons.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Confessions of a closet TV watcher
I'm watching "So You Think You Can Dance?".
I love it.
Granted, it's like the "finals". Or something like that. I don't really know how these shows work. I assume that the embarrassing tryouts would be intolerable. All I know is the dancing is really kicking ass.
It occurs to me that I LOVE watching dancing. I thought it was just ballet that got me going but no, dancing in general seems to do it. Don't know where it comes from; it's not something I or anyone in my family does, as a rule. (Though my dad is a pretty peppy lead.)
It was so cool seeing all the different styles. I didn't start watching until Ashlee and Ricky, who's music was awesome. My fave number (see, I've got the lingo!) was obviously Sara and Jesus - it' was electric. They were so unfair to the Russian girl doing the hip hop. She was awesome.
(Hm. I love ballet; I fall asleep at operas. I'm guiltily lapping up So you Think You Can Dance; I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would spend as much as 30 seconds watching American Idol. (I've even tried, to no avail.) I can remember word for word things I've read on a page; recited poetry or aloud reading sounds like a different language to me unless it's rreeaalllly rreeaalllly ssllooww. Think I'm visually oriented?)
The TV thing: McPie is at a show tonight, and I'm home with the kids. They are now sleeping. I'm lost in my moment of freedom. So I watch TV.
(We had an awesome night: visit from Maman solidified the kids' good mood; at dinner they were all "Yummy supper Hevver! Thank you!" (magic to a parents' ears); and there were presents from Dad...new clothes for everyone - even me! - he'd snuck off to Old Navy at lunch time today.)
Another confession - I'm not even knitting while watching TV. Though I may pick it up. Friday Night Lights is on next...
(I promise that as soon as FNL is over, I'll get back to Alice Munro. McPie won't be home til midnight... Lots of time. And I'm avoiding work.)
I love it.
Granted, it's like the "finals". Or something like that. I don't really know how these shows work. I assume that the embarrassing tryouts would be intolerable. All I know is the dancing is really kicking ass.
It occurs to me that I LOVE watching dancing. I thought it was just ballet that got me going but no, dancing in general seems to do it. Don't know where it comes from; it's not something I or anyone in my family does, as a rule. (Though my dad is a pretty peppy lead.)
It was so cool seeing all the different styles. I didn't start watching until Ashlee and Ricky, who's music was awesome. My fave number (see, I've got the lingo!) was obviously Sara and Jesus - it' was electric. They were so unfair to the Russian girl doing the hip hop. She was awesome.
(Hm. I love ballet; I fall asleep at operas. I'm guiltily lapping up So you Think You Can Dance; I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would spend as much as 30 seconds watching American Idol. (I've even tried, to no avail.) I can remember word for word things I've read on a page; recited poetry or aloud reading sounds like a different language to me unless it's rreeaalllly rreeaalllly ssllooww. Think I'm visually oriented?)
The TV thing: McPie is at a show tonight, and I'm home with the kids. They are now sleeping. I'm lost in my moment of freedom. So I watch TV.
(We had an awesome night: visit from Maman solidified the kids' good mood; at dinner they were all "Yummy supper Hevver! Thank you!" (magic to a parents' ears); and there were presents from Dad...new clothes for everyone - even me! - he'd snuck off to Old Navy at lunch time today.)
Another confession - I'm not even knitting while watching TV. Though I may pick it up. Friday Night Lights is on next...
(I promise that as soon as FNL is over, I'll get back to Alice Munro. McPie won't be home til midnight... Lots of time. And I'm avoiding work.)
Monday, June 4, 2007
What hurts more than a half marathon?
Ok, other than an actual marathon?
A frisbee tournament. Most especially Gender Blender. After the first tournament of the summer, every year, I think to myself "Why? WHY do I inflict such pain on my body?" Also, I shake my fists at the gods.
Six or more games of frisbee crammed into a 16 hour period; games which are intermingled with snacking, tending blisters and/or injuries, drinking beer, dancing, general carousing with teammates and rivals, and a few short hours of sleep when our bodies finally capitulate.
And then the six hour drive home.
It's totally addicting. Working your body as hard as you can within a team situation is one of the most incredible experiences I've discovered. There are ups and downs and aches and pains, wins and losses, but regardless of all that, the overwhelming feeling at the end of it all is one of camaraderie and accomplishment. (I know it sounds utterly cheesy, but it's so very TRUE!) And the buzzing I feel in muscles and joins is thrilling even when it's uncomfortable.
Every year, I know that the tourneys for the rest of the summer will get easier and easier. It's the first one that hurts the most. And GB is the hardest, because of the skewed beer:frisbee:sleep ratio.
That was a digression. I meant to describe our weekend at Gender Blender per se. In a nutshell: camping tournament, our team was a Roman legion, we carted our ark of "bull's blood" (ie: cocktail) around to distribute to the masses in a magnificent chariot built by Sweetie McPie. McPie and I avoided painful hangovers and were able to play hard, though our skills need refining after a winter away from the disc. Our team went 3-3. It was HOT. Edging toward 30 degrees and sunny - but we came away with sunburn free. Pictures to come...
Traffic through the GTA is HORRIFIC. We took the ETR to avoid the worst, but to no avail. There was nothing "E" about it - we PAID to sit on a parking lot north of Toronto. Ottawa to Peterborough (300 km) took the same amount of time as Scarborough - Fergus (100 km). We vowed to never move back to Southern Ontario, where the urban seems relentless and inescapable.
All in all, it appears that the weekend shenanigans miraculously cured my plantar fasciitis. Either that, or the usual discomfort I normally feel in my foot simply pales in comparison to the discomfort I felt for the next couple of days in my calves, hamstrings, quads, abs... We've pretty much taken this week off from all activity, including laundry, vacuuming, getting out of bed...
We're looking forward to another one-day tourney this coming Saturday, a fundraiser for CHEO. It's the day after our Wine Club meeting (rumour has it we're visiting New Zealand!), so it will be interesting to see how our bodies fare.
A frisbee tournament. Most especially Gender Blender. After the first tournament of the summer, every year, I think to myself "Why? WHY do I inflict such pain on my body?" Also, I shake my fists at the gods.
Six or more games of frisbee crammed into a 16 hour period; games which are intermingled with snacking, tending blisters and/or injuries, drinking beer, dancing, general carousing with teammates and rivals, and a few short hours of sleep when our bodies finally capitulate.
And then the six hour drive home.
It's totally addicting. Working your body as hard as you can within a team situation is one of the most incredible experiences I've discovered. There are ups and downs and aches and pains, wins and losses, but regardless of all that, the overwhelming feeling at the end of it all is one of camaraderie and accomplishment. (I know it sounds utterly cheesy, but it's so very TRUE!) And the buzzing I feel in muscles and joins is thrilling even when it's uncomfortable.
Every year, I know that the tourneys for the rest of the summer will get easier and easier. It's the first one that hurts the most. And GB is the hardest, because of the skewed beer:frisbee:sleep ratio.
That was a digression. I meant to describe our weekend at Gender Blender per se. In a nutshell: camping tournament, our team was a Roman legion, we carted our ark of "bull's blood" (ie: cocktail) around to distribute to the masses in a magnificent chariot built by Sweetie McPie. McPie and I avoided painful hangovers and were able to play hard, though our skills need refining after a winter away from the disc. Our team went 3-3. It was HOT. Edging toward 30 degrees and sunny - but we came away with sunburn free. Pictures to come...
Traffic through the GTA is HORRIFIC. We took the ETR to avoid the worst, but to no avail. There was nothing "E" about it - we PAID to sit on a parking lot north of Toronto. Ottawa to Peterborough (300 km) took the same amount of time as Scarborough - Fergus (100 km). We vowed to never move back to Southern Ontario, where the urban seems relentless and inescapable.
All in all, it appears that the weekend shenanigans miraculously cured my plantar fasciitis. Either that, or the usual discomfort I normally feel in my foot simply pales in comparison to the discomfort I felt for the next couple of days in my calves, hamstrings, quads, abs... We've pretty much taken this week off from all activity, including laundry, vacuuming, getting out of bed...
We're looking forward to another one-day tourney this coming Saturday, a fundraiser for CHEO. It's the day after our Wine Club meeting (rumour has it we're visiting New Zealand!), so it will be interesting to see how our bodies fare.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)