How I Came to Love Exercise

My passion for health and fitness reaches all the way back to grade ten phys ed class.  When I was in high school I was a typical teenage girl – out of shape!  But in grade ten my best friend and I signed up for a specialized phys ed class called “Fit for Life”.  Only seven girls signed up for the class so the teacher was able to work outside of the curriculum slightly.  She broke the course up into six modules over the course of the semester.  For one module she had our fathers bring our bikes to school and we spent a good four weeks cycling.  We also did weight training, running and all kinds of fitness related activities.  I absolutely loved it.  With little agility nor speed, I was never very good at sports.  Actually, that's an understatement.  I suck so badly at sports that the odds of me catching a beach ball coming right at me are still only about 50%.  But this particular course showed me the other side of fitness.  I felt empowered because I could actually do the activities and I could see improvement in my abilities over such a short period of time.  From that day forward I embraced an active lifestyle and have cycled, run and lifted weights ever since. I started running a few evenings a week down my road and when I got my driver's license the following year I drove to the local sportsplex so I could lift weights.

After completing the grade ten gym course my best friend and I decided we wanted to teach aerobics (as it was called way back then).  We were both sixteen years old.  We called the local YMCA-YWCA and we were told that we needed to be eighteen to take the course.  So the summer we turned eighteen we held true to our mission and registered for the course.  The course was great but I struggled.  I have always been long and lean.  Speed and coordination are not skills that come easily to me.  My long legs could not keep up with the beat of the music and I found the choreography difficult to grasp.  On the last day, the teacher, Susan O’Neid, came up to my friend and I and told my friend how great she was (and she was right, my friend is, still today, a fantastic fitness leader) and then in a roundabout way she told me that aerobics was probably not my thing.  I was discouraged but I didn’t give up.  I just had to train longer and harder than most.  Over the coming years I kicked butt.  I even won Fitness Instructor of the Year Award at GoodLife Fitness in 1999.  Then in 2000 Mrs. Susan O’Neid, not remembering me at all, hired me to be the Group Fitness Coordinator at the Metro Central YMCA-YWCA – the largest group fitness program in the city. I worked in the fitness industry on a relatively full-time for close to 10 years.

Since having children I haven't been as active in the field as I would like to be.  I really love being up there on the stage leading people through a great workout. Lately I have been inspired to revive my career as a fitness instructor.  I applied for the Booty Camp Fitness Inc. License/Franchise for Ottawa last week and I got it!  So stay tuned ladies.  I am back and ready to whoop people's butts into shape!

I also decided to sign up for pole dancing lessons a couple of months ago.  I can't put into words how fun it is.  It's tough.  It requires strength and flexibility. Luckily I have been working on those two things for many years so I can actually do it.  It still doesn't come easy to me but I work at it.  It feels amazing to be so in control.  I have my way with that pole every time I get on it.  And the support that all of the women in class demonstrate towards each other is amazing.   I feel so empowered when I actually master a move.  I am covered in bruises most of the time from practicing but I don't care.  It's really the most fun "workout" I've ever done.  I strive to one day be a pole dancing instructor as well.

It's all about finding something you love.  You don't need to go to the gym to workout if that's not for you.  Choose an outdoor activity instead.  If sports is your thing then join a recreational team.  If you get bored easily then try new things.  If you don't do it because you love it you won't stick to it.  It takes persistence.  Don't give up.

Journey Continued - Theft of my Identity

So this week's yogic philosophy was Asteya, meaning non-stealing.  Of course we all know not to steal stuff from stores, hot wire cars or bootleg liquor but there are many instances in which many of us still continue to "steal".  For example, many people steal time from work by Facebooking on company time, planning personal events and carrying on personal conversations on the phone while at work.  Sometimes we steal people's time by being late and making them wait or we steal people's energy by dumping our emotional baggage/issues onto them.  It took me some time to come up with something that I steal but I came up with two things.  The first is an outright theft that I personally commit and the second is my allowing others to steal from me.  I have always said that you can't be oppressed unless you let someone oppress you and people will only disrespect you if you show them you don't respect yourself.  Therefore, if someone steals your energy, steals your passion, or works to oppress the real you then it's because you allowed  them to steal from you.

The first, and only (I think), theft that I commit is stealing the spotlight.  I love to be the centre of attention and I feel more at ease when addressing a large group versus speaking to someone one-on-one.  As a result, when I go to any social function, luncheon, dinner party, etc. I often dominate the conversation so that I am the centre of attention.  This allows me to be comfortable as it shifts from casual one-on-one conversations to the whole place staring at me listening to my funny stories.  I love to tell stories and people generally enjoy them but I don't think it's fair to the others to take over the entire conversation at all times.  Over the past few weeks I have challenged myself to be a better listener rather than always speaking. I have learned that it's fun to listen to others and there is so much to learn about them when they are given a chance to share their stories.  I was astounded at what I didn't know about people I have known for a long time because I never gave them the chance to speak.  And more importantly I could see how great people felt to share something about themselves with me.  I am, by nature, a very caring and compassionate person.  I was a social worker for six years after all.  I realized that people like to share with me because it builds our bond and creates a deeper level of comfort.  I am 100% confident that I will build better friendships by embracing my new philosophy of listening rather than stealing the spotlight.

The second offense I came up with is something I have struggled with for a long time.  When I gave birth to my daughter I was a single mother.  I have very little fear in life but I had one very strong fear that if I didn't take care of my daughter by myself 100% of the time, in the future someone would say something like "well she couldn't do it on her own, I had to help her all of the time".  There is nothing I can't do on my own!  (That's another issue I might need to work on) and hell if I was ever going to let those words escape from anyone's mouth in relation to me.  I took care of my daughter and when I couldn't I hired someone.  I never asked for help nor allowed someone to take care of her for free.  By completing immersing myself into motherhood I sort of forgot about me.  I still worked and did the things I had to do but outside of that I did nothing social.  I had this idea, and still have a little bit, that once you are a mother you have to give up a lot of what you used to do.  It's not like I was a wild crazy party girl before but I did enjoy a night out once in a while.  Since having children I have never had a drop of alcohol, never done a single silly irresponsible thing, and limited my exploration of new things substantially.  I am now married and my husband makes a point of connecting with his friends every couple of weeks to go out to the movies because that is what he enjoys.  If someone asks for his help with something he goes.  I, on the other hand, never ever ever went anywhere with anyone for many years.  As one can imagine this started to wear on me a bit.  I felt like my children (I have 2 now)  had "sucked the life out of me".  I felt like it took every ounce of me to meet all of their demands and that to be a good mother I must make the perfect loot bags for every special occasion and bake the perfect fancy cupcakes for the class on their birthdays and have endless patience for them, and most importantly I must do this all on my own.  I have failed miserably in that department.  But you know what?  My kids don't care.  They love me just the same and as long as they are loved and have food in their tummies they are pretty happy.  And, it totally benefits them to be taken care of by others once in a while.  They learn new things, become more adaptable and build a sense of independence away from mommy.

Today, for example, my daughter had to do a presentation on Seychelles.  It's a country in case you've never heard of it.  The students were asked to do something creative.  We decided she would stand up and tell the class a little bit about the country and then feed them a common dessert from that country that I woke up early this morning to make.  When I picked her up after school I saw that most kid's mothers baked something but that they had also put together a PowerPoint presentation (this is grade 2 by the way) or created a colourful bristol board displaying the flag, pictures, etc. of the country.  For a split second I felt crappy that my kid didn't do a bristol board but then I asked my daughter how her presentation went and she said great.  Not once did she mention that all of the other moms had made a bristol board (because let's face it the kids didn't do that fancy work themselves).  She didn't even notice.  She learned some interesting facts, indulged in some great treats and had fun sharing.  She could not have cared less about the silly bristol board.  And frankly, I just didn't have time to make a fancy bristol board to impress the other mothers because I was at pole dancing lessons.  Yes, that's right.  I was out exploring something new that I thoroughly enjoy - pole dancing. 

I want to enjoy my kids, not resent them.  The more I get out and do the things I love the better mom I am.  When I have taken time to be who I am, besides a mother, I am more patient and I don't mind waking up early to make a Seychelles dessert.  I chose to have kids and I chose to let my identity be stolen by motherhood. But not anymore.  I am not just a mother.  I am a very strong woman, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a business owner, a friend, an employer, a fitness enthusiast, a pole dancer, a yogini, and a damn great karaoke singer.  It is actually possible to be everything you want to be.

Yoga Lessons Continued...

On Monday night my daughter had the stomach flu accompanied by a high fever.  Whenever either of my children is sick, especially with a fever, I sleep with them so that I can monitor their fevers.  I can almost predict exactly what their temperature is based on the rate of their breathing.  I am strongly opposed to over-the-counter pharmaceuticals because they are toxic and I believe they can cause more harm than good in many instances.  A fever is the body’s natural defense mechanism for killing viruses, after all.  I just don’t see the logic in quelling the very fire that was set to burn up whatever is making you sick.  So, like most nights, I decided to ride this one out naturally.

At bedtime I curled up in my daughters bed to monitor her breathing for the rest of the night and to make sure she made it to the bathroom if she felt the urge to vomit again.  Needless to say I didn’t get a very good sleep.

On Tuesday morning when I woke up I didn’t feel so well myself.  The natural outcome of cleaning up barf and sleeping with a sick child, I guess.  I decided I would follow through with my morning commitments (a spa appointment for a manicure and pedicure) and that I would try to re-schedule my afternoon meetings.  I sent e-mails to my two afternoon appointments asking them to re-schedule but I only heard back from one them confirming receipt of my message.

As the day progressed I began to feel more sluggish and weak.  I wasn’t full on sick but I definitely wasn’t myself.

I hate to say it but I almost always, selfishly, put myself first in situations like this.  I often stand people up or back out of social engagements at the last minute but our discussion in yoga class really hit home with me.  When one girl in the class gave an example of being let down by her friend(s) and shared how crappy that made her feel, I realized that’s me and that’s just downright ugly.  I don’t want to be that person.

So despite my not feeling 100% I dragged myself to my lunch meeting and I actually had a really great time.  The person I was meeting with wanted to do business with me and she expressed this desire based on the huge amount of respect she had for me.  Now imagine if I had stood her up?

Later that night when she checked her e-mails she apologized for not getting the message in time but thanked me profusely for dragging myself out anyway.  I felt so good for following through and not letting her down.

By 8:00 p.m. I was beat so I told my daughter, who was feeling much better, to tuck me in for a change.  She climbed into bed beside me and we started talking.  She told me about all of the funny movies she had watched on her sick day home from school and we shared other related funny stories.

I told her about my new assignment for Yoga and I asked her if she had any ideas for me.

She said “Mommy, you already always tell the truth.”

“I know.” I said.  “That’s why I’m having a hard time thinking of something to do for my homework.  I never lie because I have learned that it always lands you in a bigger mess in the end” I say.

“Ya,” she says, pondering my wisdom.

“Well mom…Remember that time you bet me $100 that the CD in my player was not Justin Bieber and it turned out it actually was?” she reminds me for the one millionth time.

“Yes.” I say.

“Well you never paid me the money so you didn’t tell the truth,” she says so wisely for a seven year old.

I rolled over and pulled an envelope out of my bedside table where I keep cash for the cleaning lady.  I pulled out five crisp twenties and passed them to her.

“That’s the best decision of your life mom,” she remarked.  Clearly a line she had memorized from a television show but I have to give her credit for using it in the right context.

My mother, her grandmother, always says a person is only as good as their word and that we should always stick to our bets and do what we say we are going to do.  I think, for once in my life, I will heed my mother’s advice.

…And I must remember to withdraw some more cash before the cleaning lady comes on Thursday.

Journey of the Yogini

I am taking a course to become a Yoga Instructor.  Although I have been teaching Yoga for sometime I have never actually taken the formal certification.  It's a 6 months process for just the basic training.  Yoga is a philosophy, a way of life, if you will.  There is a lot to be taught, not only on a physical level but also on an emotional and spiritual level.  Each week we have to try and embrace a yogic philosophy and incorporate it into our lives.  Then we have to write a report on it and hand it in as homework.  The first philosophy that we were taught to embrace is "Ahimsa" - it means "non-violence".

After learning about Ahimsa last Sunday I decided, on my drive home, I would attempt to do two things; first, not yell at my kids, and second, limit my swearing.  I believe communication through yelling is a form of violence and I have vowed for many years to try and find better ways of getting my kids to do the things I want them to do without yelling.  I also believe swearing to be a violent way of expressing oneself but I do it anyway.  I see how unbecoming it is but I once read a study that said it does in fact have a positive physiological effect on the negative impact of stress on the body so I whole-heartedly bought into that philosophy and justified my swearing as a healthy means of reducing my cortisol levels.

When I left Yoga training on Sunday I had not prepared any meals in advance for my family.  I have a husband and three kids at home who depend on me for food.  I decided I would run over to the Green Door Vegetarian Organic Restaurant and grab take out for everyone.  When I arrived at the ever famous Green Door there was a line-up a mile long.  

“Fuck” I said under my breath and hurried back to the car to try vegetarian organic option number two – The Table Vegetarian Organic Restaurant.  My kids like the food from The Table but not as much as they like the food from The Green Door.  

By the time I got to The Table I could imagine my youngest child at home getting hungry and I started to stress.  I texted my husband and told him to tie him over with some cut up cucumbers and carrots.   

When I finally got home I quickly dished up some tofu patties and some buckwheat noodle pasta dish onto everyone’s plate.  As soon as I set it down on the table my daughter said “I don’t like these noodles”.

“No problem” I said.  “Just leave them to the side”.

“What should I get for lunches tomorrow?” my husband asked.

“Don’t worry.  I already got it” I said.

“If it’s these noodles, I’m not eating them mom so don’t put them in my lunch” my daughter snapped.

“I heard you the first time!” I yelled.  

Then I turned to my husband and said “Shit, I was trying not to yell and I lasted all of 60 seconds in this house and shit, I just said shit,” I yelled but again.

“Only one day of Yoga training and I have already failed at being a Yogini!  I hate this shit,” I yell and stomp over to the green bin to throw the rest of the “grose” noodles out.

Obviously, it is not my time to stop yelling and stop swearing.  I will accept the fact that I am not ready for that just yet.  I think I need to find some other coping mechanisms to replace those ones before just quitting cold turkey. So on to plan B.

One morning while driving my kids to school I stopped at Tim Horton’s to get my daughter a bagel.  I hate Tim Horton’s and I swore I would never feed it to my children but my daughter loves the bagels so we have agreed to one every second Friday and I can live with that.  I explained the philosophy of Ahimsa to my daughter and all week we had been talking about nice things people do for each other.  I really enjoyed brainstorming ideas with her and I feel that although I yell and swear a lot she is a good kid and I would like to think I played a role in that. 

As we approached the Tim Horton’s line-up she said “Hey mom, you should pay for the person behind us”.

“Good idea, curly” (I call her curly because she has a big afro).  I peer in my rear view mirror and see a single woman in a small sedan behind me.

Perfect.  I think to myself.  One lady = one coffee.  When I get to the window to pay for my daughter’s bagel I tell the clerk I want to pay for the car behind me.  Unfortunately, the car behind me is still ordering so the clerk doesn’t know the total yet.  So we wait…and wait…and wait…and finally, that single lady is done ordering food and drink for her entire office, or extended family, or all the staff at her kids pre-school, or all of the above.  What could possibly amount to 36 bucks at Tim Horton’s?  Yes, you read that right - 36 dollars!  Luckily I had recently returned from a trip to Vietnam and had changed some cash at the airport before returning home because I don’t regularly carry $40 cash on me.  That was the Universe being kind to me I guess because it would have been really embarrassing to offer to pay for the car behind me and then have to rescind my offer due to lack of funds.

So here I am eagerly awaiting my second weekend of Yoga training hoping that whatever yogic philosophy we learn this week will work out better for me than Ahimsa did.

"Curly" - Summer 2011.