My butt hurts and other things

I used to run…not so much from the cops or mall security (anymore) more so for-fun athletic, race-type things.

Running is very zen/meditative for me, you’re pushing yourself along letting your mind wander as you start to get into a rhythym and your breath gets used to a sped up steady pace.

When B. got us a gym membership about a month ago, I carved out some space in my work day to go with her.

It’s reminded me of how much fun the gym is!

I can’t run yet, given the broken foot, but I’m doing laps in the pool, workouts on the elliptical machines and getting lost in my daydreams, 😀

But wow, the next day, after a bunch of lunges, does my ass hurt.

my bum would say squats are not my friend

B and I are happily hobbling around and soothing our sore muscles, delighted we’re getting back into better shape.

Sometimes I feel every month of my approaching 34 years but a sit in the hot tub, and I work out all the knots.

Still, can’t wait til my glutes stop yelling at me!

What do you like to do with your body? For fun or fitness?


Reader Appreciation Award

Thanks Ms Katykins!

She nominated me for this award and I deeply appreciate it 🙂

Check out her delightful blog, awesome comics, entertaining tales and thought provoking stuff, she’s a funny delight!

Well, life’s been a lovely whirlwind lately of spending time with my favourite guys, getting ready for school and spending time with my dear wife…what? both of you are healthy you say?!


touch wood, hold your lucky rabbits foot, do the hokey pokey, whatever we’re supposed to do lol.

Dear Nan…

Age is never so old as youth would measure it. -Jack London

I love my grandmother.

She has always been like a mother to me.

This summer she is moving out of the tiny outport town she’s lived in since her birth in the early 1930’s.

I’m certain she knows every tree, every movement of the tides in the harbour and is intimately acquainted with the fine lines in cliffs towering over the little salt box houses.

As of late, she’s celebrated her older sister’s approach to her mid-nineties, the death of dear friends and relatives and she’s outlived 2 husbands.

She never gets a cold.

Yet she says to me, “please god, if I’m alive next year, you’ll be home for the reunion,”

“nanny, don’t be silly, ofcourse you will,” I reply.

By comparison, my grandmother has her all-bran cereal, one orange and a cup of tea for breakfast every morning.

She has done this for decades.

Even into my mid-thirties, I can keenly remember the smell, the pop of citrus as she breaks the skin on her orange and pays attention to gently opening the juicy flesh over a paper towel, rocking sleepily in the chair behind her listening to CBC radio morning as a ten year old.

How could she not outlive me?

I rush into Starbucks, grab an Americano and some processed pastry, eat and text and zip off to work.

She walks miles every day, knits, makes her own bread, is always busy, has an active social life and a healthy spirituality.

Me, I hop on rapid transit,attempt to get some time at the gym and I’m satisfied opening a can of ‘whatever’ for meals.

I will always love her, respect her and listen to her carefully when she advises me.

That is the least I can do for all she has given me. Life, wisdom, unconditional love and safety in the storms of my parents’ divorce.

This summer when she moves into the city, to live next door to my aunt, the youngest of my father’s sisters, I will miss that tiny town as well.

But as long as I have her, I have my foundation and my safety.

I will love you always nanny…xo forever

For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow