Bye Bye 2008
Normally I don't like to see the current year pass on. Knowing I will never see it again makes me sad. Like saying goodbye to an old friend knowing it may be a long time till you see them again, if ever.
But as for me and 2008--bump that. See ya when I see ya.
Peace!
I am so thrilled to bust out a brand new calender, for me it represents an official fresh start and putting an extremely difficult year behind me. January 1 2009 cannot come soon enough.
A Year In Review Past
Each year since the summer I turned 13 in 1993, I always look back at my year in a diary entry I dub "Perdita's Year in Review-XXXX". Some of the nonsense I have summed up at the end of some years was scatterbrained, others just indicative of a young child coming of age.
That summer I would sneak out of the house after midnight to play manhunt with a militia of other kids in our neighbourhood gully. We'd set the plan that afternoon, decide on a meeting time and point then sneak out of our respective windows. One night I brought my younger sister with me, we shared a room and she saw me leaving. To keep my secret I had to bring her slowpoke tail along.
Walking slower than usual (surprise!) to the rendez vous spot we got caught in the parking lot by our friend's mom. She was dressed in some scandalous outfit which I found strange since she looked like Mary Poppins in the day time. She asked where in the world we were going and questioned why we were both dressed in black.
(The nerve of this nocturnal private dancer to inquire about my attire w/ her fish net stocking self--but I was to young to question this back then, so I will now).
Nevertheless I froze like Bambi on the 401.
Certain mother would hear about this and I would be punished w/ the belt or whatever she grabbed first: hanger, shoe, pot...
I came up with a lie so big, that I've since repented, but certain I could still be heading to hades.
But I had to save us: "Uhh, my brother has not come home tonight, and my mother is at home crying. We are going to one of his friend's house to see if he may be there. My mom wanted us to wear black so no one would see us and take us.".
Jennifer's mother looked at us suspiciously, but then seemed to eat the lie right up. "Ok then" she said, as she hopped in her car, lit a cigarette and sped off to what I am certain now was the nudie bar.
Looking back at that year in review I thought I was so independent and grown-up, having this secret night life. Now looking back I was disobedient, a fibber and very irresponsible. And all the things you are allowed to be at 13!
2008 In Review
I haven't reviewed 2008 yet, I'm delaying what it might reveal or what I may learn about myself. If I had to take a stab at it I'd say I have learned:
1. "What a difference a year makes" is bang on
2. Relish every moment that you are doing something you love
3. When life gives you lemons, you better love you some lemonade
4. Cherish the people that treat and love you the same in your every circumstance
5. Be grateful for the good
6. Be grateful for the not so good
7. Small victories can turn out to be your biggest triumphs
...I'll have pages and pages to write in "Perdita's Year in Review: 2008". All I know is I am not unchanged as a result of this year and I think I'll discover it's for the better.
2009 We Welcome You!
Perdita
Tuesday, December 30
Tuesday, December 23
Season's Greetings!
I began my Christmas shopping tonight and must report I was highly unsuccessful. It had to do with the mass of people at the mall, the long lines and how tired I was from practice earlier in the day. So after two hours of fruitless wandering I left feeling irritated and defeated.
There was but two solutions to this: chicken milk w/ 'wodkah' (upon my arrival home) and the gift card!
One is so impersonal and quick --the other enables you to care less! :-)
Wishing everyone and their families the best this holiday season.
Happy Holidays...Merry Festivus...Happy Kawanza...Happy Hanukkah!
Perdita
There was but two solutions to this: chicken milk w/ 'wodkah' (upon my arrival home) and the gift card!
One is so impersonal and quick --the other enables you to care less! :-)
Wishing everyone and their families the best this holiday season.
Happy Holidays...Merry Festivus...Happy Kawanza...Happy Hanukkah!
Perdita
Wednesday, December 17
Corny for Christmas
I'm planning to drive home this weekend 10 hours from the Paign to P-town. I have been looking for flights since November, and they are so so reasonable. But it is the rental car that is hurting me. I have done this trip every year since 2000, and this is the first time I refuse to spend so much just to get home.
To rent a car for 2 weeks, used to be a decent $250. Now these crooks are talking about $450-500 for an economy car. Who's fitting in that?
I refuse!
So that means I am making the drive, which I so don't want to do. But it will save me a rio grand, easy. Especially important, since I have 9 nieces and nephews who are expecting Christmas gifts. And you know how many DS games a G can buy?
Christmas is next week, and I haven't really prepared for its arrival. I have stopped buying for the adults and just spend on the kiddies. If I am lucky I'll get a grand total of 2 gifts my own self. That is something from the BF and another from my mom.
Who better make sure her gift is off the chain. Because for my 28th birthday bash in August, she got me a card with a $2 quick pick.
I mean really, mother.
If I win the lottery you come off looking really great. But guess what--I didn't.
But really, I am excited to close out week 7 of boot camp and get home to be with my family. And all I want for Christmas besides a juicer and food processor is their happiness.
..lol, I'm so corny for Christmas.
Perdita
To rent a car for 2 weeks, used to be a decent $250. Now these crooks are talking about $450-500 for an economy car. Who's fitting in that?
I refuse!
So that means I am making the drive, which I so don't want to do. But it will save me a rio grand, easy. Especially important, since I have 9 nieces and nephews who are expecting Christmas gifts. And you know how many DS games a G can buy?
Christmas is next week, and I haven't really prepared for its arrival. I have stopped buying for the adults and just spend on the kiddies. If I am lucky I'll get a grand total of 2 gifts my own self. That is something from the BF and another from my mom.
Who better make sure her gift is off the chain. Because for my 28th birthday bash in August, she got me a card with a $2 quick pick.
I mean really, mother.
If I win the lottery you come off looking really great. But guess what--I didn't.
But really, I am excited to close out week 7 of boot camp and get home to be with my family. And all I want for Christmas besides a juicer and food processor is their happiness.
..lol, I'm so corny for Christmas.
Perdita
Saturday, December 13
Thursday, December 11
Freedom
Hey now,
I'm in the native land. Can I get a "West Side!" since I'm in Vancouver.
It was drama getting here from the Midwest last night. I flew out of Indianapolis because it was the best connection, but meant I had to drive two hours from my house to get there.
When I arrived I was told my flight was delayed by three hours. I'd miss my connection and would have to spend the night in Houston. Then connect the following evening because there is only one flight per day.
Come again? ...Selecta!
I asked about other options. "Nancy" wasn't too concerned about my plight. I bought my ticket on some cheap as dirt website, so I knew it wasn't much value to them. I also am not on their frequent flyer program.
She kept typing, and sighing, typing and sighing. I was getting more and more distressed with each fruitless click.
"That's the best I can do Miss Fe...Felss...Feleese..."
"Call me Perdi!", I told her. Just to end the stammering that was embarrassing us both. I could just see was fixing to call me "Miss Felis-Navidad".
I took a breather and got on my hand held and looked up connections online. I noticed a few--Nancy was holding out on me. But I knew because my ticket was bought on Hotwire I was a sitting duck. But I'd be damned if I was going to spend 24 hours in commute mode--oh hell to the naw.
I noticed a more sympathetic agent and decided to approach her, even though Nancy was free.
NOTE: Just so you know who you are dealing with, I won the drama award in grade 8, was told by my grade 6 teacher Mr. Livingston I was going to be a star actress "with a host of credits to my name". And my mother used to pay us, her children if we could be the first to cry on cue--I never lost.
All of that, I am convinced, prepared me for the moment before me. Here it was, I was about to shine.
Looking anxious, I approached sympathetic looking "Margaret", explaining that I had drove hours to get here from out of state. I was desperate to get to Vancouver tonight, Thursday night just won't do. This was the killer: "Can you help me... please?"
Then I allowed a single tear to escape from my right eye. (I know, mad skills). It was a silent cry, but deadly. This must have pulled at her heart strings, because she called me "Sweetheart".
Pity, sympathy, call it whatever you want, as long as it got me a seat at 35, 000 feet.
Margaret typed till her fingers were blue. Whenever the typing stopped, I would manufacture more tears. Right then, the typing would begin again.
Sweet.
For Em-pha-cis, I sniffled some and said: "I'm sorry".
She announced there was nothing she could do with my ticket on her airline and none of their partners had flights today. But there was one connection leaving in thirty minutes, on another airline. She was going to call them and see what they can do. They didn't pick up the phone when she called.
Dammit, I just knew I was overnighting in blasted Indiana.
But to my surprise, Margie says: I'm going to try to put you on their flight. It may not work but go over and check in like you belong.
With that I grabbed my passport, wiped my tear stained cheeks. (OK they weren't tear stained--but I CAN do that--for the right price), and headed to their counter.
I flashed my great big smile, made chit chat with the agent and gave him my documents, while asking how his day was, and was he ready for the holidays. Hoping that all this banter, would distract from any asterisks or pending remarks that could possibly be next to my name.
My heart was beating so fast. I so desperately didn't want to lose a whole day stuck in airports. With that exchange of pleasantries the man gave me my boarding pass and told me to have a nice flight.
FREEDOM!!
I snatched that piece of paper so fast, and took off like a run away slave towards Kanata!
NOTE: When I got to Van I looked at my original flight. It still hadn't left, and was scheduled to arrive at 3AM the following morning.
Ya see what ones inner drama queen can do.
Shame Free,
Felicien-Navidad
I'm in the native land. Can I get a "West Side!" since I'm in Vancouver.
It was drama getting here from the Midwest last night. I flew out of Indianapolis because it was the best connection, but meant I had to drive two hours from my house to get there.
When I arrived I was told my flight was delayed by three hours. I'd miss my connection and would have to spend the night in Houston. Then connect the following evening because there is only one flight per day.
Come again? ...Selecta!
I asked about other options. "Nancy" wasn't too concerned about my plight. I bought my ticket on some cheap as dirt website, so I knew it wasn't much value to them. I also am not on their frequent flyer program.
She kept typing, and sighing, typing and sighing. I was getting more and more distressed with each fruitless click.
"That's the best I can do Miss Fe...Felss...Feleese..."
"Call me Perdi!", I told her. Just to end the stammering that was embarrassing us both. I could just see was fixing to call me "Miss Felis-Navidad".
I took a breather and got on my hand held and looked up connections online. I noticed a few--Nancy was holding out on me. But I knew because my ticket was bought on Hotwire I was a sitting duck. But I'd be damned if I was going to spend 24 hours in commute mode--oh hell to the naw.
I noticed a more sympathetic agent and decided to approach her, even though Nancy was free.
NOTE: Just so you know who you are dealing with, I won the drama award in grade 8, was told by my grade 6 teacher Mr. Livingston I was going to be a star actress "with a host of credits to my name". And my mother used to pay us, her children if we could be the first to cry on cue--I never lost.
All of that, I am convinced, prepared me for the moment before me. Here it was, I was about to shine.
Looking anxious, I approached sympathetic looking "Margaret", explaining that I had drove hours to get here from out of state. I was desperate to get to Vancouver tonight, Thursday night just won't do. This was the killer: "Can you help me... please?"
Then I allowed a single tear to escape from my right eye. (I know, mad skills). It was a silent cry, but deadly. This must have pulled at her heart strings, because she called me "Sweetheart".
Pity, sympathy, call it whatever you want, as long as it got me a seat at 35, 000 feet.
Margaret typed till her fingers were blue. Whenever the typing stopped, I would manufacture more tears. Right then, the typing would begin again.
Sweet.
For Em-pha-cis, I sniffled some and said: "I'm sorry".
She announced there was nothing she could do with my ticket on her airline and none of their partners had flights today. But there was one connection leaving in thirty minutes, on another airline. She was going to call them and see what they can do. They didn't pick up the phone when she called.
Dammit, I just knew I was overnighting in blasted Indiana.
But to my surprise, Margie says: I'm going to try to put you on their flight. It may not work but go over and check in like you belong.
With that I grabbed my passport, wiped my tear stained cheeks. (OK they weren't tear stained--but I CAN do that--for the right price), and headed to their counter.
I flashed my great big smile, made chit chat with the agent and gave him my documents, while asking how his day was, and was he ready for the holidays. Hoping that all this banter, would distract from any asterisks or pending remarks that could possibly be next to my name.
My heart was beating so fast. I so desperately didn't want to lose a whole day stuck in airports. With that exchange of pleasantries the man gave me my boarding pass and told me to have a nice flight.
FREEDOM!!
I snatched that piece of paper so fast, and took off like a run away slave towards Kanata!
NOTE: When I got to Van I looked at my original flight. It still hadn't left, and was scheduled to arrive at 3AM the following morning.
Ya see what ones inner drama queen can do.
Shame Free,
Felicien-Navidad
Tuesday, December 9
Things That Make You Go Hmm...
I found this story on another blog and decided to post it on mine because it is so shocking. I just don't get it...
Trying not to judge but, I mean really?! Why? How?!
Till I type again,
P
Trying not to judge but, I mean really?! Why? How?!
Till I type again,
P
Sunday, December 7
Blasts From The Past
I am in the process of copying articles and photos of my career for a project and its been a great undertaking. I try to keep everything from Bib numbers, fan mail to media. But once I archive it I usually forget, so it's been fun looking at some of the stuff i've been a part of over the years.
Below is what I have stumbled upon this weekend.
What athlete doesn't dream of being on the cover of a cereal box! If you want a stale box of Honey Nut let me know, I found plenty in the garage.
I still can't believe I was on the cover of Time. When my manager called to tell me, I was floored, asking "Are they sure?!". The day of the shoot the crew set up at the wrong campus, two hours north in Chicago. So we ended up shooting a few hours later so they could drive to Chambana.
A spread I did for Toro Mag, I love the background.
Cheerio!
Perdita
Below is what I have stumbled upon this weekend.
What athlete doesn't dream of being on the cover of a cereal box! If you want a stale box of Honey Nut let me know, I found plenty in the garage.
I still can't believe I was on the cover of Time. When my manager called to tell me, I was floored, asking "Are they sure?!". The day of the shoot the crew set up at the wrong campus, two hours north in Chicago. So we ended up shooting a few hours later so they could drive to Chambana.
A spread I did for Toro Mag, I love the background.
Cheerio!
Perdita
Saturday, December 6
Pretty Young Thang?
The oldest person alive just died, may she rest in peace.
Seeing the story made me wonder if I would want to live that long. I think I would as long as I am healthy and some what independent.
World's Oldest Person Dies in Indiana
I don't mind being 110 so long as I can change my own nappy, ya know what I mean. Though I'm not sure being 100+ years old is so hot if the love of your life croaks at 89. That's a long road to hoe alone.
I'd be all about finding a replacement as soon as possible, perhaps eharmony might develop a section for super seniors in the next 90 years.
I could imagine the descriptions:
Tyrone-"Have two of my own teefs"
Luther-"Will chew my lady's food"
Maggie-"Adore tepid sponge baths"
But seriously, the journey of independence in old age correlates to how you live your life when you are young. Many of us don't think of it now, we are much to young to care, and think this nerve and verve of youth will last a lifetime.
Nope.
Go to realage to see if you are truly young at heart. You may be surprised at what it tells you.
Perhaps you can enact some changes now, that will add years to your life.
Cheers,
P
Seeing the story made me wonder if I would want to live that long. I think I would as long as I am healthy and some what independent.
World's Oldest Person Dies in Indiana
I don't mind being 110 so long as I can change my own nappy, ya know what I mean. Though I'm not sure being 100+ years old is so hot if the love of your life croaks at 89. That's a long road to hoe alone.
I'd be all about finding a replacement as soon as possible, perhaps eharmony might develop a section for super seniors in the next 90 years.
I could imagine the descriptions:
Tyrone-"Have two of my own teefs"
Luther-"Will chew my lady's food"
Maggie-"Adore tepid sponge baths"
But seriously, the journey of independence in old age correlates to how you live your life when you are young. Many of us don't think of it now, we are much to young to care, and think this nerve and verve of youth will last a lifetime.
Nope.
Go to realage to see if you are truly young at heart. You may be surprised at what it tells you.
Perhaps you can enact some changes now, that will add years to your life.
Cheers,
P
Thursday, December 4
Back!
My sincerest apologies for my unexplained disappearing act. I was kidnapped on November 17th, by aliens, as you may have guessed, and they only let me go tonight.
I know blame it on the rain, really my absence was a combo of DOMS, tryptophan, a jenky internet connection and miscellaneous matters all mounting concurrently. For the record I won't go MIA again w/o sufficient notice ;).
But I am back and in full effect, so let’s keep it moving, shall we?
We shall!
The last few weeks have been quite productive, this is the close of week 5 in Champaign and my body adapted pretty quickly to the first training cycle. A few weeks ago I went to practice on a Thursday and began a rather hard session. This workout used to make me queasy just knowing it was coming. I started the routine, which was a full body, high rep, exercise circuit that included using body weight and weights, with very little rest.
I zipped through the workout, and didn’t even chip a nail. Don’t get me wrong, I was taxed—this was expected. But I wasn’t wheezing, hurting or broken—this was not expected. I sat on the bench sipping my water, waiting to begin the second, (more tame) portion of the day’s session and a funny thing began to happen.
When I looked in the surrounding mirrors my muscles began to bulge and protrude. Not subtly-- but ala She-ra!
(ok if sister girl did have muscles!)
Caught off guard, I run to the mirror to examine my entire body. My muscles are pulsing. Even my earlobes look buff.
Yikes! Now I’m scared.
I bolt towards my coach and ask him, wide eyed: “Do you see this?!”. He sees exactly what I am worked up about and he begins to laugh.
Confused and following his lead I start to laugh too, though not knowing what about. But hoping he as the author of my form will be able to explain my beefing neck muscles.
Hearing the sounds of my demented laughter my training partner comes over to see what’s up. She just finished the same workout and clearly wasn't having the same physiological reaction that I did.
“Damn P!” she says through her own laughter, now. Who knew ones instantly hypertrophying trap muscles could induce such hysteria in others.
“I know. I’m a freak”.
Suddenly self-conscious, I ask my training partner if it looks bad. Being a good friend she doesn’t take that bait. Instead she proceeds to tell me, I look how I always look. “…but usually not till the summer”.
ok.
Not sure what to make of that assessment, I look to the coach for some science. Instead of science, I get frigging Marvel comic.
Coach and training partner decide to liken me to The Incredible Hulk.
You see how they do me?!
Talks of “green paint”, and “shredded shorts”, and “P, too bad Halloween is over”, is discussed through their chuckles.
BAHAHA. They so funny.
Once they got over making themselves blue in the face, we got to the serious stuff. Coach announced that he was pulling me from that particular workout.
“You’re done”.
He mentioned that he hasn’t seen definition in my back like that ever. I looked at the mirror over my shoulders. Indeed it was chiseled and dented to the point that I thought I was looking at Apollo Creed's back.
But to explain the phenomenon it’s just how my genetics work, and being away from this kind of environment for so long I forgot how I am built.
In the summer of 2002 as a sophomore in college, we had to totally revamp the way I lift and avoid routines that can bulk me up, since I can build muscle very quickly. Just because I am very strong, doesn’t mean I have to exhibit all of that. Heavy muscles mean extra weight and load. It’s great for me to be strong, but not at the expense of the power and explosion needed for my event.
I do have the nickname “beast” when it comes to strength training, I’m just shocked that my body has reminded us of that this early.
Hoping to be beastly or incredible in this new training phase. Which promises to bring me face to face with my kryptonite that is lactic acid runs and more lactic acid runs after that.
Bleh.
Glad to be back,
Hulk Dita
I know blame it on the rain, really my absence was a combo of DOMS, tryptophan, a jenky internet connection and miscellaneous matters all mounting concurrently. For the record I won't go MIA again w/o sufficient notice ;).
But I am back and in full effect, so let’s keep it moving, shall we?
We shall!
The last few weeks have been quite productive, this is the close of week 5 in Champaign and my body adapted pretty quickly to the first training cycle. A few weeks ago I went to practice on a Thursday and began a rather hard session. This workout used to make me queasy just knowing it was coming. I started the routine, which was a full body, high rep, exercise circuit that included using body weight and weights, with very little rest.
I zipped through the workout, and didn’t even chip a nail. Don’t get me wrong, I was taxed—this was expected. But I wasn’t wheezing, hurting or broken—this was not expected. I sat on the bench sipping my water, waiting to begin the second, (more tame) portion of the day’s session and a funny thing began to happen.
When I looked in the surrounding mirrors my muscles began to bulge and protrude. Not subtly-- but ala She-ra!
(ok if sister girl did have muscles!)
Caught off guard, I run to the mirror to examine my entire body. My muscles are pulsing. Even my earlobes look buff.
Yikes! Now I’m scared.
I bolt towards my coach and ask him, wide eyed: “Do you see this?!”. He sees exactly what I am worked up about and he begins to laugh.
Confused and following his lead I start to laugh too, though not knowing what about. But hoping he as the author of my form will be able to explain my beefing neck muscles.
Hearing the sounds of my demented laughter my training partner comes over to see what’s up. She just finished the same workout and clearly wasn't having the same physiological reaction that I did.
“Damn P!” she says through her own laughter, now. Who knew ones instantly hypertrophying trap muscles could induce such hysteria in others.
“I know. I’m a freak”.
Suddenly self-conscious, I ask my training partner if it looks bad. Being a good friend she doesn’t take that bait. Instead she proceeds to tell me, I look how I always look. “…but usually not till the summer”.
ok.
Not sure what to make of that assessment, I look to the coach for some science. Instead of science, I get frigging Marvel comic.
Coach and training partner decide to liken me to The Incredible Hulk.
You see how they do me?!
Talks of “green paint”, and “shredded shorts”, and “P, too bad Halloween is over”, is discussed through their chuckles.
BAHAHA. They so funny.
Once they got over making themselves blue in the face, we got to the serious stuff. Coach announced that he was pulling me from that particular workout.
“You’re done”.
He mentioned that he hasn’t seen definition in my back like that ever. I looked at the mirror over my shoulders. Indeed it was chiseled and dented to the point that I thought I was looking at Apollo Creed's back.
But to explain the phenomenon it’s just how my genetics work, and being away from this kind of environment for so long I forgot how I am built.
In the summer of 2002 as a sophomore in college, we had to totally revamp the way I lift and avoid routines that can bulk me up, since I can build muscle very quickly. Just because I am very strong, doesn’t mean I have to exhibit all of that. Heavy muscles mean extra weight and load. It’s great for me to be strong, but not at the expense of the power and explosion needed for my event.
I do have the nickname “beast” when it comes to strength training, I’m just shocked that my body has reminded us of that this early.
Hoping to be beastly or incredible in this new training phase. Which promises to bring me face to face with my kryptonite that is lactic acid runs and more lactic acid runs after that.
Bleh.
Glad to be back,
Hulk Dita
Sunday, November 16
Body By P: Abs
I get hit up by my friends and family all the time to look at their workouts or make up a program for them. Some people are serious others just think it’s a good look. I suppose I come off as an awesome resource, but after I prescribe my medicine those ones never ask for more.
My number one request is “Can you help me with my abs?!”.
Sheesh Grandma, Isn’t it too late for you.
But I’ll oblige anyone, giving them what I know works for me. My peak season is the month of June, usually in the weeks before Caribana. “By bana time I’m wanna have a six-pack” they tell me.
I usually look them up and down and say: "Only Jesus can turn water into wine".
Kidding. But I suppose I have conjured up some grape juice.
Here's how you can turn your abs of tinfoil into ones of steel:
Watch What You Eat
If you desire a flatter or defined stomach, there are some things you have to do. Forget the crunches or gimmicks to get a smooth torso it starts with your diet. It is impossible to get the kind of belly you want if you eat a lot of processed foods. Foods that don’t grow in the ground or are picked off a tree when you eat them. The ones that are substituted with artificial nutrients and fillers.
Our days are full of them: Lattes, donuts, bagels, hot dogs, chips, white bread, sugar, soft-drinks, cookies...it's endless.
You can do as many ab focused exercise routines as you want, if you don’t lay the foundation with body composition you are wasting your time. All those packaged and low nutrient foods are not conducive to burning fat and toning your body. You get better and faster results if you can cut out most (if not all) of these food, while simultaneously working on your body.
This essential for females because excess fat in the body gets stored in our tummy and thigh regions!
Drink Up
I got to a point where I achieved decent body composition for my sport and genetic build. However I had a slight “Buddha belly”, a round little thing that I couldn’t get rid of and had no clue why. After reading and doing some research I discovered that I wasn’t hydrated enough.
And when you are dehydrated the body goes into a state where it stores water, and for me this showed up in my gut. So keeping hydrated lets your body know there is no drought and it doesn’t have to retain water. Doing this helps you lose weight and trim the waistline.
I also limit my liquid calories, juices, coffee, milkshakes, beer, soda, etc. I try to get a minimum of an ounce of water for every kilo I weigh. (8 ounces equal one glass). Be sure to get your electrolytes and drink water all throughout your day and not all in one sitting. I hate cold water but it burns more calories.
Total Body
The best approach to killer abs is to condition your entire body, spot treatment does not work! That is only doing crunches or ab routines and doing nothing for the rest of your body. A total body workout burns layers of fat and contributes to that definition and flat stomach you desire by helping you lose weight.
I Want Muscles
Cardio is key, but don’t forget the strength component, which is just as important to a balanced program.
I know some females are afraid of the buff look (I think it’s sexy). But toning and sculpting your body builds muscle. And people who have more musculature actually burn more calories when they exercise and do other activities.
My Other Guidelines
*Like any muscles group our abs shouldn’t be worked endlessly, they need rest. So I recommend 3-5 times per week.
*Change your routine up! Add a new exercise each week.
*As soon as an exercise does not challenge you, increase the repetitions or shorten the rest. As far as sets and repetitions here are my personal guidelines:
Easy: 3 Sets x 10 Reps
Medium: 3 Sets x 15 Reps
Chiseled Novice Pro: 3 Sets x 20 Reps
Civilian Solid: 5 Sets x 10 Reps
Olympic Ripped: 5 Sets x 25 Reps
*Instead of sets and reps do your exercises for 30 seconds on/30 seconds off, for 5 minutes or more.
*Get creative, add a medicine ball, a swiss ball, therabands, any weight or resistance.
I.e: Instead of plain crunches, hold on to a medicine ball as you do them, or use a swiss ball for improved balance.
*Don't forget to target all regions of your belly, when you select exercises. Your oblique, or side abs. Rectus abs which are your lower and upper tummy, that gives that six pack look. (The six pack is one entire muscle but connective tissue makes look like segments). Also your transverse abs, which run deep under the rectus and obliques and are not simply engaged by your basic abs exercises.
*I love my ab circuits: pick a select number of ab exercises (at least 4), then choose the number of sets and reps. Get a buddy and get started!
I'll try to post some exercises in the coming days.
Cheers,
P
My number one request is “Can you help me with my abs?!”.
Sheesh Grandma, Isn’t it too late for you.
But I’ll oblige anyone, giving them what I know works for me. My peak season is the month of June, usually in the weeks before Caribana. “By bana time I’m wanna have a six-pack” they tell me.
I usually look them up and down and say: "Only Jesus can turn water into wine".
Kidding. But I suppose I have conjured up some grape juice.
Here's how you can turn your abs of tinfoil into ones of steel:
Watch What You Eat
If you desire a flatter or defined stomach, there are some things you have to do. Forget the crunches or gimmicks to get a smooth torso it starts with your diet. It is impossible to get the kind of belly you want if you eat a lot of processed foods. Foods that don’t grow in the ground or are picked off a tree when you eat them. The ones that are substituted with artificial nutrients and fillers.
Our days are full of them: Lattes, donuts, bagels, hot dogs, chips, white bread, sugar, soft-drinks, cookies...it's endless.
You can do as many ab focused exercise routines as you want, if you don’t lay the foundation with body composition you are wasting your time. All those packaged and low nutrient foods are not conducive to burning fat and toning your body. You get better and faster results if you can cut out most (if not all) of these food, while simultaneously working on your body.
This essential for females because excess fat in the body gets stored in our tummy and thigh regions!
Drink Up
I got to a point where I achieved decent body composition for my sport and genetic build. However I had a slight “Buddha belly”, a round little thing that I couldn’t get rid of and had no clue why. After reading and doing some research I discovered that I wasn’t hydrated enough.
And when you are dehydrated the body goes into a state where it stores water, and for me this showed up in my gut. So keeping hydrated lets your body know there is no drought and it doesn’t have to retain water. Doing this helps you lose weight and trim the waistline.
I also limit my liquid calories, juices, coffee, milkshakes, beer, soda, etc. I try to get a minimum of an ounce of water for every kilo I weigh. (8 ounces equal one glass). Be sure to get your electrolytes and drink water all throughout your day and not all in one sitting. I hate cold water but it burns more calories.
Total Body
The best approach to killer abs is to condition your entire body, spot treatment does not work! That is only doing crunches or ab routines and doing nothing for the rest of your body. A total body workout burns layers of fat and contributes to that definition and flat stomach you desire by helping you lose weight.
I Want Muscles
Cardio is key, but don’t forget the strength component, which is just as important to a balanced program.
I know some females are afraid of the buff look (I think it’s sexy). But toning and sculpting your body builds muscle. And people who have more musculature actually burn more calories when they exercise and do other activities.
My Other Guidelines
*Like any muscles group our abs shouldn’t be worked endlessly, they need rest. So I recommend 3-5 times per week.
*Change your routine up! Add a new exercise each week.
*As soon as an exercise does not challenge you, increase the repetitions or shorten the rest. As far as sets and repetitions here are my personal guidelines:
Easy: 3 Sets x 10 Reps
Medium: 3 Sets x 15 Reps
Chiseled Novice Pro: 3 Sets x 20 Reps
Civilian Solid: 5 Sets x 10 Reps
Olympic Ripped: 5 Sets x 25 Reps
*Instead of sets and reps do your exercises for 30 seconds on/30 seconds off, for 5 minutes or more.
*Get creative, add a medicine ball, a swiss ball, therabands, any weight or resistance.
I.e: Instead of plain crunches, hold on to a medicine ball as you do them, or use a swiss ball for improved balance.
*Don't forget to target all regions of your belly, when you select exercises. Your oblique, or side abs. Rectus abs which are your lower and upper tummy, that gives that six pack look. (The six pack is one entire muscle but connective tissue makes look like segments). Also your transverse abs, which run deep under the rectus and obliques and are not simply engaged by your basic abs exercises.
*I love my ab circuits: pick a select number of ab exercises (at least 4), then choose the number of sets and reps. Get a buddy and get started!
I'll try to post some exercises in the coming days.
Cheers,
P
Thursday, November 13
Grocery Guidelines By P
It’s the end of the week which means, I’ll be looking into my fridge and taking note on what to buy this weekend at the grocery store. I love to shop for food, almost as much as I like to eat it. So here are some of my grocery shopping habits and rules, i've adopted over the years.
Go to the grocery store a few times a week
If you can manage it buy your meats the same day you are going to have it for dinner, or a day or two later. I love to buy my fish fresh from the counter and have it that same night. I also try to pick up a side of vegetables for a fresh salad mix.
Try a new fruit or vegetable each week
Try bok choy or kale instead of spinach. Bake a yam instead of a potato, or try a medley of berries in lieu of the typical apple. Break up the monotony of the same old foods and experiment with tastes.
Shop on the Periphery
As your eating becomes healthier you will be inclined to do the majority of your shopping on the outskirts of any grocery store. There you find the whole foods, and the best sources of nutrients that the body needs. I venture into the aisle only if I need oatmeal, (or I'm feeling weak). Everything in the center is packaged, low nutrient “food-like” items IMO.
The Cart: Our First Line of Defense
This week I pigged out on a whole bag of Pita chips (regrettably). They were on sale for $2 and normally they cost $4.48 at the Walmart. I put it in the cart lured by the deal, all the while knowing I should not bring this home.
So if you don’t want to be tempted by an item, do not even bring it into your home. (Instead open the package in the clothing aisle and eat a few helpings before you leave. Upon reaching satiety, walk away).
Fat free? So What
I used to buy “fat free” and “low fat” everything: milk, cottage cheese, yogurt, thinking it was better for me. Or that I could eat more of whatever it was that had “25%!” less fat. Not true. Fat free usually means more of something else, namely sugars. So because an item is lower in fat, doesn’t mean it is good for your body or a superior product.
Read It
Before I bring any item into my home, I check to see if I should give it that privilege by reading the label. I take note of the small print as if reading a contract. An agreement between this block of Havarti cheese and I! It promises to provide me with the best and I promise to eat it.
But really learn to read the nutrition information for a product, so you can compare and understand what you are getting.
And Rule of thumb I heard a long time ago: If you can’t pronounce it—-don't eat it!
Happy Shopping,
Perdita
Go to the grocery store a few times a week
If you can manage it buy your meats the same day you are going to have it for dinner, or a day or two later. I love to buy my fish fresh from the counter and have it that same night. I also try to pick up a side of vegetables for a fresh salad mix.
Try a new fruit or vegetable each week
Try bok choy or kale instead of spinach. Bake a yam instead of a potato, or try a medley of berries in lieu of the typical apple. Break up the monotony of the same old foods and experiment with tastes.
Shop on the Periphery
As your eating becomes healthier you will be inclined to do the majority of your shopping on the outskirts of any grocery store. There you find the whole foods, and the best sources of nutrients that the body needs. I venture into the aisle only if I need oatmeal, (or I'm feeling weak). Everything in the center is packaged, low nutrient “food-like” items IMO.
The Cart: Our First Line of Defense
This week I pigged out on a whole bag of Pita chips (regrettably). They were on sale for $2 and normally they cost $4.48 at the Walmart. I put it in the cart lured by the deal, all the while knowing I should not bring this home.
So if you don’t want to be tempted by an item, do not even bring it into your home. (Instead open the package in the clothing aisle and eat a few helpings before you leave. Upon reaching satiety, walk away).
Fat free? So What
I used to buy “fat free” and “low fat” everything: milk, cottage cheese, yogurt, thinking it was better for me. Or that I could eat more of whatever it was that had “25%!” less fat. Not true. Fat free usually means more of something else, namely sugars. So because an item is lower in fat, doesn’t mean it is good for your body or a superior product.
Read It
Before I bring any item into my home, I check to see if I should give it that privilege by reading the label. I take note of the small print as if reading a contract. An agreement between this block of Havarti cheese and I! It promises to provide me with the best and I promise to eat it.
But really learn to read the nutrition information for a product, so you can compare and understand what you are getting.
And Rule of thumb I heard a long time ago: If you can’t pronounce it—-don't eat it!
Happy Shopping,
Perdita
Tuesday, November 11
BRR it's Chilly Outside and In
My training a partner and I are some G's going outside in wet, driving rain today. We warmed up inside, then went outside to run some hills.
Today unfortunately also warranted an ice bath. Not so bad in July when its hot and sunny. But extremely hard to do on cold and wet days like today.
Today reminded me of this pic below:
Clearly this is for the insane.
Ciao,
Perdita
Today unfortunately also warranted an ice bath. Not so bad in July when its hot and sunny. But extremely hard to do on cold and wet days like today.
Today reminded me of this pic below:
Clearly this is for the insane.
Ciao,
Perdita
HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY!!
Here's to honoring fallen heroes and those that presently keep us safe, and preserve our freedom.
Saturday, November 8
500 Report
This week was my first week back here at base and I didn't know quite what to expect. Looking back the week was magic and I worked my tail off.
If you read the last post, you know I had to tackle hills for the second time this week on Friday. With most of them being 300m long, and one being a 500m hill! Which I have never done.
Friday morning all I could think about was that 500m hill. My training partner doesn't start until next week, so I had to go at it alone. But I brought mental toughness to the session and summoned my inner Paula Radcliffe.
"W.W.P.D ...What would Paula do?”
"H.W.P.B.I...How Would Paul Bring it?”
Were my thoughts as I stood at the base of the hill, as Coach 'Gdub moved pine cones and branches out of my path and reminded me of the route.
My fast twitch muscle fibers were screaming: "We don't have to do this".
I took off, with a steady, confident pace. Remembering what BF said on the phone the night before. Something silly like he always says 'You break that hill, it don't break you!'. It had me chuckling on the line then, but oddly I wasn't grinning teeth now.
I checked my breathing at 150m, and liked the steadiness of it. At 200m it was all good. In fact I felt like a really sexy cross country runner with thick thighs, who happens to hurdle fast on the side.
At 250m I took a right, down the slope and past the maple trees, wishing someone had a video camera, all this elk like gracefulness I was exhibiting, going undocumented.
Waste.
At 300m I contemplated switching from the 100m hurdles to the 3000m steeple chase. Stride so flawless, poetry in motion.
Really, "Had I been in the wrong event all this time? Had I only at 28 now found my calling, my best track event?"
At 399m I got my answer.
It came in the form of a sudden surge of heaviness in my buttocks. Fire invading my lungs, and cold teeth from a mouth gone ajar and sucking air.
“Ahh Dayum”.
I heard Gdub yell out my 400m split. After nearly a decade together, I knew the tone of his voice meant he was OK with this split.
At 415m with only incline left, my mind was flooded with incoherent thoughts: "What is this bring, the hill is breaking me, “P.I.N.T”: Paula I need thee!".
Gdub noticed my abrupt change of pace, the antithesis of runner’s high: spontaneous lactic acid dementia.
He snapped me out of it with a sympathetic shout: “Perdi use your arms, let your arms carry you up the hill!”
I swear an hour later I made it to the top. That final 90m took so long, that I heard nothing from Gdub during it. To encourage me or shout instructions at that point would have been a mockery.
Can't wait to do it all over again next Friday.
Go me!
Perdita
If you read the last post, you know I had to tackle hills for the second time this week on Friday. With most of them being 300m long, and one being a 500m hill! Which I have never done.
Friday morning all I could think about was that 500m hill. My training partner doesn't start until next week, so I had to go at it alone. But I brought mental toughness to the session and summoned my inner Paula Radcliffe.
"W.W.P.D ...What would Paula do?”
"H.W.P.B.I...How Would Paul Bring it?”
Were my thoughts as I stood at the base of the hill, as Coach 'Gdub moved pine cones and branches out of my path and reminded me of the route.
My fast twitch muscle fibers were screaming: "We don't have to do this".
I took off, with a steady, confident pace. Remembering what BF said on the phone the night before. Something silly like he always says 'You break that hill, it don't break you!'. It had me chuckling on the line then, but oddly I wasn't grinning teeth now.
I checked my breathing at 150m, and liked the steadiness of it. At 200m it was all good. In fact I felt like a really sexy cross country runner with thick thighs, who happens to hurdle fast on the side.
At 250m I took a right, down the slope and past the maple trees, wishing someone had a video camera, all this elk like gracefulness I was exhibiting, going undocumented.
Waste.
At 300m I contemplated switching from the 100m hurdles to the 3000m steeple chase. Stride so flawless, poetry in motion.
Really, "Had I been in the wrong event all this time? Had I only at 28 now found my calling, my best track event?"
At 399m I got my answer.
It came in the form of a sudden surge of heaviness in my buttocks. Fire invading my lungs, and cold teeth from a mouth gone ajar and sucking air.
“Ahh Dayum”.
I heard Gdub yell out my 400m split. After nearly a decade together, I knew the tone of his voice meant he was OK with this split.
At 415m with only incline left, my mind was flooded with incoherent thoughts: "What is this bring, the hill is breaking me, “P.I.N.T”: Paula I need thee!".
Gdub noticed my abrupt change of pace, the antithesis of runner’s high: spontaneous lactic acid dementia.
He snapped me out of it with a sympathetic shout: “Perdi use your arms, let your arms carry you up the hill!”
I swear an hour later I made it to the top. That final 90m took so long, that I heard nothing from Gdub during it. To encourage me or shout instructions at that point would have been a mockery.
Can't wait to do it all over again next Friday.
Go me!
Perdita
Thursday, November 6
Guess Who’s Back
Man it feels like ages since I’ve blogged. But I have been a busy girl, moving back to my training base last weekend.
I drove my car back and was on record pace for the ten hour drive, based on traffic and no stops. However I was stopped at customs and searched all because my part of an entry document on my visa was MIA.
I looked at the officer and pleaded with my eyes “I haven’t needed this thing in eight months are you really gonna seize me, guy?”.
Buddy sure did.
So I obediently drove my Subaru to parking spot #2.
What’s In A Purse?
I have a massively big purse. I left my vehicle unlocked but took it with me. Big mistake.
This officer with whiskers coming out of his nose (that were long enough to blow in the wind, no lie!) aggressively approached my person demanding where I was going with “that!”.
“Umm?!…I want to know what you guys are gonna do with a bag full of Red Bulls, Vanilla flavoured Bonne Bell lip gloss, and box of flat bread?”
But rather, I threw the cumbersome thing in the back seat. And left them to spill its contents and hope dude found my tweezers, and got a clue.
It’s Me!
Once inside I felt criminal, though guilty of nothing. So I was much pleased while being processed, two men beside me, who were also being processed overheard me explaining, where I live and what I do for a living. Suddenly one of them exclaimed: “I knew it! Perdita we love you!”.
Jackpot!
I winked at officer Johnson. “You see that big boy?--Now Chop-Chop!”.
Then I flashed my signature smile at the men and politely said “Thanks guys”.
Neighbours Gone Wild
Seven hours and one stop later I was back to my house in Illinois. I found a car in the driveway, so I parked on the street and stayed up waiting for someone to come retrieve their car. I was much to tired from the drive to ring door bells to ask who owned what had to be a 1990’s Celebrity.
Evidently the neighbours were pimping my property as a parking spot. In eight months they had figured out a pyramid system for who got to use it. I was back and they didn't expect me, like a thief in the night.
The gig is up people!
I know this because my training partner lives across the street and had the same woes when she went to Europe to race this summer.
Siphoning H2O
I also found strange hoses hooked up to my front and back water spickets that were not leading to my front and back lawns.
Like really, who steals other peoples water.
Amber Alert For Tree?
As well I have a small tree in my backyard, well I did. It is gone. Yes, my tree is missing and I sure didn't take it with me to Canada when I left.
The nerve of some people, I should go to the home owner's association. My neighbourhood is very safe, but they sure are trifling!
Training
This week we jumped right back into things, no rest or mercy for the weary. Which is part of the reason I didn’t get a chance to up date sooner. I am layed out on the couch by the time I get back from training. Fingers too weak to type, or even open my front door. I find my self rationing energy for the next day.
Tuesday Hills
But I am glad to be back, the focus is better here and so is the quality of each session. The most intense part of Autumn training will be doing hill workouts twice a week. Normally we only run hills on Fridays, 300m long, 6-7 times.
Now I have them on Tuesdays too. Shorter, yes—-but on a Tuesday?! Dude thats sacrilege, can a sista get an ab circuit?!
My butt was burning so much at the end of this past Tuesday’s hill runs, that I wanted a golf cart to take me the near distance to the car. As well have someone drive me home, since I wasn’t sure I could press my car’s clutch.
Friday Hills
And for Friday, imagine my shock when I see a hill run that is 500m long. I have no clue what 500m looks like, where it starts, where it ends, why people use that distance…blah blah blah.
The longest I have ever run was a 400m in 2001 as a freshman and it was the ugliest thing anyone that day had ever seen. It was for testing and the girls on the team can atest to how bad I rigged up at the 250m mark. After that coach never subjected my body to anything more than 300m.
Plus I am certain it embarrassed him.
So what is this 500m thing about? Does he want me to shame him again? Because I am all about the seven-year shame. Not deliberately or out of spite, but by genetic make-up default.
Remember?!
Sigh.
I may complain, I may challenge, but at the end of the day I always do what I am told, and I always do it 100%. So 500m hill here I come…
…like a lamb to the slaughter,
Perdita
Man it feels like ages since I’ve blogged. But I have been a busy girl, moving back to my training base last weekend.
I drove my car back and was on record pace for the ten hour drive, based on traffic and no stops. However I was stopped at customs and searched all because my part of an entry document on my visa was MIA.
I looked at the officer and pleaded with my eyes “I haven’t needed this thing in eight months are you really gonna seize me, guy?”.
Buddy sure did.
So I obediently drove my Subaru to parking spot #2.
What’s In A Purse?
I have a massively big purse. I left my vehicle unlocked but took it with me. Big mistake.
This officer with whiskers coming out of his nose (that were long enough to blow in the wind, no lie!) aggressively approached my person demanding where I was going with “that!”.
“Umm?!…I want to know what you guys are gonna do with a bag full of Red Bulls, Vanilla flavoured Bonne Bell lip gloss, and box of flat bread?”
But rather, I threw the cumbersome thing in the back seat. And left them to spill its contents and hope dude found my tweezers, and got a clue.
It’s Me!
Once inside I felt criminal, though guilty of nothing. So I was much pleased while being processed, two men beside me, who were also being processed overheard me explaining, where I live and what I do for a living. Suddenly one of them exclaimed: “I knew it! Perdita we love you!”.
Jackpot!
I winked at officer Johnson. “You see that big boy?--Now Chop-Chop!”.
Then I flashed my signature smile at the men and politely said “Thanks guys”.
Neighbours Gone Wild
Seven hours and one stop later I was back to my house in Illinois. I found a car in the driveway, so I parked on the street and stayed up waiting for someone to come retrieve their car. I was much to tired from the drive to ring door bells to ask who owned what had to be a 1990’s Celebrity.
Evidently the neighbours were pimping my property as a parking spot. In eight months they had figured out a pyramid system for who got to use it. I was back and they didn't expect me, like a thief in the night.
The gig is up people!
I know this because my training partner lives across the street and had the same woes when she went to Europe to race this summer.
Siphoning H2O
I also found strange hoses hooked up to my front and back water spickets that were not leading to my front and back lawns.
Like really, who steals other peoples water.
Amber Alert For Tree?
As well I have a small tree in my backyard, well I did. It is gone. Yes, my tree is missing and I sure didn't take it with me to Canada when I left.
The nerve of some people, I should go to the home owner's association. My neighbourhood is very safe, but they sure are trifling!
Training
This week we jumped right back into things, no rest or mercy for the weary. Which is part of the reason I didn’t get a chance to up date sooner. I am layed out on the couch by the time I get back from training. Fingers too weak to type, or even open my front door. I find my self rationing energy for the next day.
Tuesday Hills
But I am glad to be back, the focus is better here and so is the quality of each session. The most intense part of Autumn training will be doing hill workouts twice a week. Normally we only run hills on Fridays, 300m long, 6-7 times.
Now I have them on Tuesdays too. Shorter, yes—-but on a Tuesday?! Dude thats sacrilege, can a sista get an ab circuit?!
My butt was burning so much at the end of this past Tuesday’s hill runs, that I wanted a golf cart to take me the near distance to the car. As well have someone drive me home, since I wasn’t sure I could press my car’s clutch.
Friday Hills
And for Friday, imagine my shock when I see a hill run that is 500m long. I have no clue what 500m looks like, where it starts, where it ends, why people use that distance…blah blah blah.
The longest I have ever run was a 400m in 2001 as a freshman and it was the ugliest thing anyone that day had ever seen. It was for testing and the girls on the team can atest to how bad I rigged up at the 250m mark. After that coach never subjected my body to anything more than 300m.
Plus I am certain it embarrassed him.
So what is this 500m thing about? Does he want me to shame him again? Because I am all about the seven-year shame. Not deliberately or out of spite, but by genetic make-up default.
Remember?!
Sigh.
I may complain, I may challenge, but at the end of the day I always do what I am told, and I always do it 100%. So 500m hill here I come…
…like a lamb to the slaughter,
Perdita
Tuesday, November 4
History Is Made!
CONGRATULATIONS BARACK OBAMA!!
A historic night for African Americans and America as a nation. My heart smiles at the milestone and the inspiration he is to me and many others.
I cannot vote, but I have lived for nine years in Illinois and I feel like this truly is a wonderful day in human history: Barack Obama 43rd President of the United States and leader of the free world!
Loving it,
Perdita
A historic night for African Americans and America as a nation. My heart smiles at the milestone and the inspiration he is to me and many others.
I cannot vote, but I have lived for nine years in Illinois and I feel like this truly is a wonderful day in human history: Barack Obama 43rd President of the United States and leader of the free world!
Loving it,
Perdita
Friday, October 31
To Trick or to Treat?
Of Halloweens Past
I used to love Halloween as a kid, though it conflicted with my Sunday School upbringing. (I will never forgive mother for buying me a plastic costume in grade one from Bargain Harold's. I was the devil. And the mask was plastic and stunk of chemicals, with the tiniest holes for sight and breathing).
Nevertheless I just adored the candy, (still do).
My brother would go trick or treating all hours of the night going to countless neighbourhoods, and coming back home with trash bags full of candy.
My sisters and I were much to young and were only allowed to go to the houses around our block. Our candy would last a week or two at best.
Brother Sam's would last for months. But he always hid the garbage bags in the basement where his room was. We would take shifts uprooting the basement and his room, but could never find it.
Our only luck came one year when he carelessly left the bag under the stairs in the open. But by then it was full of reject candy. You know the kind, Kerr's toffee in the black and orange wrapper, Rockets, or the cheap people who gave home made candy apples...Why?
...Beware of house number 1437!
Halloween of Today
I went to the grocery store to see what I would give the kiddies and I saw a bag of assorted candies cost $11.99!
Oh hell to the naw.
I refused to pay that much for people's children to rot their teeth. Plus it goes against my code of good eating lately, why should I be the only one chewing on a carrot stick.
So I decided to buy a bag of assorted vegetables, i.e brussel sprouts, yellow zucchini and red potatoes. Much more nutritious and the whole batch cost less than $1.99/pound.
So when the goblins and ghost show up at my door talking about "Trick or Treat", Ill gladly do both, and trick them with treats chalked full of vitamins and antioxidants!
How 1,500 plus inmates in the Philippines prepare for Fright Night
Happy Tricks and Treats!
Perdita
I used to love Halloween as a kid, though it conflicted with my Sunday School upbringing. (I will never forgive mother for buying me a plastic costume in grade one from Bargain Harold's. I was the devil. And the mask was plastic and stunk of chemicals, with the tiniest holes for sight and breathing).
Nevertheless I just adored the candy, (still do).
My brother would go trick or treating all hours of the night going to countless neighbourhoods, and coming back home with trash bags full of candy.
My sisters and I were much to young and were only allowed to go to the houses around our block. Our candy would last a week or two at best.
Brother Sam's would last for months. But he always hid the garbage bags in the basement where his room was. We would take shifts uprooting the basement and his room, but could never find it.
Our only luck came one year when he carelessly left the bag under the stairs in the open. But by then it was full of reject candy. You know the kind, Kerr's toffee in the black and orange wrapper, Rockets, or the cheap people who gave home made candy apples...Why?
...Beware of house number 1437!
Halloween of Today
I went to the grocery store to see what I would give the kiddies and I saw a bag of assorted candies cost $11.99!
Oh hell to the naw.
I refused to pay that much for people's children to rot their teeth. Plus it goes against my code of good eating lately, why should I be the only one chewing on a carrot stick.
So I decided to buy a bag of assorted vegetables, i.e brussel sprouts, yellow zucchini and red potatoes. Much more nutritious and the whole batch cost less than $1.99/pound.
So when the goblins and ghost show up at my door talking about "Trick or Treat", Ill gladly do both, and trick them with treats chalked full of vitamins and antioxidants!
How 1,500 plus inmates in the Philippines prepare for Fright Night
Happy Tricks and Treats!
Perdita
Wednesday, October 29
Don' Worry Be Sappy!
Sad + Happy that is what I am these days.
I am excited about my ten hour drive this weekend back to my training base in Illinois. But sad about leaving my friends and family and the medical team that have been my life line since the spring. But I know this is what we have all been working for, to get me back on track and healthy for fall base training--the most important component of my training.
More than anything I am lamenting no more access to West Indian food! Despite my healthy eating these days, I just like to look at it, smell it even.
Also I sense some nervousness about how much pain I will be in after running hill workouts, "twice a week" I'm told, as opposed to the usual one.
Getting into real shape is gonna suck, but I am ready to embrace it.
In nine years I have not been home for this long of a stretch. I have carved out a little place in everyone's week. Now I am taking my sunny presence from them.
- The Canada Post man who has come to know my radiant smile...Ha!
- Osmow owner of "Osmow's" who makes the best chicken Schwarmas in Ontario, is gonna wonder where his little hurdler went.
- And I can't imagine the disappointment of the old guy at Krispy Kreme who recognized me and gave me a dozen donuts and made me leave quickly without having to pay.
My friend J, says once I get there Ill be fine. She is right. I hate leaving people, but once I get my solitude, I'm in my element.
So I am living up my last few days in town, I have a mani and pedi appointment with my mama this week. As well as her favorite pass time, bingo!
Toronto is great, but I do my best training and find my best focus in a small college town south of its border.
Sad about leaving, but happy about reaching another milestone.
Dita-P
I am excited about my ten hour drive this weekend back to my training base in Illinois. But sad about leaving my friends and family and the medical team that have been my life line since the spring. But I know this is what we have all been working for, to get me back on track and healthy for fall base training--the most important component of my training.
More than anything I am lamenting no more access to West Indian food! Despite my healthy eating these days, I just like to look at it, smell it even.
Also I sense some nervousness about how much pain I will be in after running hill workouts, "twice a week" I'm told, as opposed to the usual one.
Getting into real shape is gonna suck, but I am ready to embrace it.
In nine years I have not been home for this long of a stretch. I have carved out a little place in everyone's week. Now I am taking my sunny presence from them.
- The Canada Post man who has come to know my radiant smile...Ha!
- Osmow owner of "Osmow's" who makes the best chicken Schwarmas in Ontario, is gonna wonder where his little hurdler went.
- And I can't imagine the disappointment of the old guy at Krispy Kreme who recognized me and gave me a dozen donuts and made me leave quickly without having to pay.
My friend J, says once I get there Ill be fine. She is right. I hate leaving people, but once I get my solitude, I'm in my element.
So I am living up my last few days in town, I have a mani and pedi appointment with my mama this week. As well as her favorite pass time, bingo!
Toronto is great, but I do my best training and find my best focus in a small college town south of its border.
Sad about leaving, but happy about reaching another milestone.
Dita-P
Monday, October 27
Reports From Vancity
I am back from Vancity, it was pretty chilly there for workouts, which surprised me. But I bundled up and went at it like a champ.
I used the week mainly as a regeneration week. Doing my physio exercises in the morning, then getting my workouts in the afternoon, then got treated in the evening. I saw one of my Docs for a routine reassessment of my foot, and took some video footage of my running mechanics.
As far as my body I am getting a lot of my musculature back pretty quickly. My left calf is still minimally smaller, however based on research it can take a year to get back some strength gains in certain individuals in that part of the body. Hence the reason I am isolating parts of my left side (glutes, hammy, plantar foot muscles, etc) to bring them up to par with my right side. This is done through very tedious exercises that bore me. But alas it must be done.
My running mechanics look fine, apart from my left hip that was rotated forward. The treatment sessions brought a lot of balance back, and I noticed immediate differences in my movements when they were completed. The movement of my foot was good, (the biggest concern after a cast).
Once again I was told to be smart with my transitions and to change the volume, type, intensity, frequency of what I am doing properly.
So my trip to Vancity officially marks my last week in Toronto, it was good to get the once-over and confidence that things are going well. With that knowledge and the time line going as planned, I will be leaving for my training base in Illinois at the end of this month.
This is what I have wanted, but I can't help but feel "SAPPY" (Sad+Happy). :(
More on this later...off to work.
TTYL,
P
I used the week mainly as a regeneration week. Doing my physio exercises in the morning, then getting my workouts in the afternoon, then got treated in the evening. I saw one of my Docs for a routine reassessment of my foot, and took some video footage of my running mechanics.
As far as my body I am getting a lot of my musculature back pretty quickly. My left calf is still minimally smaller, however based on research it can take a year to get back some strength gains in certain individuals in that part of the body. Hence the reason I am isolating parts of my left side (glutes, hammy, plantar foot muscles, etc) to bring them up to par with my right side. This is done through very tedious exercises that bore me. But alas it must be done.
My running mechanics look fine, apart from my left hip that was rotated forward. The treatment sessions brought a lot of balance back, and I noticed immediate differences in my movements when they were completed. The movement of my foot was good, (the biggest concern after a cast).
Once again I was told to be smart with my transitions and to change the volume, type, intensity, frequency of what I am doing properly.
So my trip to Vancity officially marks my last week in Toronto, it was good to get the once-over and confidence that things are going well. With that knowledge and the time line going as planned, I will be leaving for my training base in Illinois at the end of this month.
This is what I have wanted, but I can't help but feel "SAPPY" (Sad+Happy). :(
More on this later...off to work.
TTYL,
P
Wednesday, October 22
Not 19, Not 29
I’m in Vancouver for the week, visiting my Chiropractor, “The Bur”. It’s a long way to come for treatment sessions but he’s that good.
I can’t count the number of times I have come to visit over the years, sometimes it’s for as little as 48 hours. It depends on the time of year, his schedule and what my body decides to do with itself.
My time here is always very reflective, my surroundings induce this. No TV, perched on top of a mountain with an abysmal phone signal, surrounded by the ocean, bears and 'cyotes.
All I can do is climb a mountain stare out at the wilderness and think.
Today’s deep thoughts:
In the last few years my visits to Port Moody, BC in need of the best treatment an elite body can find have become more frequent. “The Bur” made the mistake of misrepresenting my age as he picked me up from YVR the other night, “Preddi, how old are you now, 29?”.
Ugh. I looked at him cross eyed from the passenger seat.
Annoyed. Feathers ruffled.
“Excuse you? We both know I am 28 and some months, so please stop the nonsense”.
But the truth is I am getting older. Many of the things I could get away with when I was a 19 year old college freshman at Illinois, I don’t dare reenact at 28.
For instance I would show up for practice in college and me and a certain partner in crime, would pick and choose which elements of the warm up we would participate in.
“Let’s see:
50m of Side shuffles?...Pass
60m of B-skips? Hmm...mebbe.
40 Lunges? I’ll give you 3—my best offer”.
Crime partner and I, would find great pleasure in this, and laugh our heads off silly, going through the motions but never truly completing 50% of the warm up. Then we would hop into our spikes, ready to do the hardest workout of the week, and complete it unscathed.
A hazardous result that only fortified our intent to do it again the next time.
(This would go on for semester after semester until I finally got my act together as an upper classman).
But, I can’t imagine myself pulling that stunt now, forget dedication and accountability. I am talking about ruptures and stupidity.
Admittedly my body doesn’t have the same resilience it did a decade ago. The approach I take with it has changed. I am more careful with it, respectful of it. Of course my craft depending on it is the main reason.
My coach stresses the importance of taking care of the “little things”. The little things are what tack on years of quality races to your career. The cool down, the diet, a good sleeping pattern, quality treatment, ice baths, managing ones personal life, and "Perdita avoiding Krispy Kreme".
Not doing the little things catch up with you. Not when you’re 19, 21 or 25...but when you have been doing this longer than you thought you would.
Relax. By no means am I announcing the twilight!
As it stands hurdlers get better with age. As our natural speed, power and explosion decline, (ala ageing 100m sprinters), if we can hone in more thoroughly on the strong technical component of our event, we can race, and be competitive into our thirties.
(Putting aside such things as motivation, injury avoidance, priorities, etc.).
So, without me knowing it I have adopted the mantra of “The little Things”. As if subconsciously sensing this shift from neophyte to expert, I made the transition silently.
One day I could care less about my cooling down, then the next I was manic about it.
I have been in track and field ever since I was nine years old. That is along time to demand excellence from one body. Imagine the number of repetitions, high levels of intensity, stress and taxation bestowed on a single frame. Mine.
So I guess a trip to Vancouver, with its thought provoking effects, is part of the little things. After all I may not be 19 anymore, but I certainly am not 29!
Peace out,
Perdeets
I can’t count the number of times I have come to visit over the years, sometimes it’s for as little as 48 hours. It depends on the time of year, his schedule and what my body decides to do with itself.
My time here is always very reflective, my surroundings induce this. No TV, perched on top of a mountain with an abysmal phone signal, surrounded by the ocean, bears and 'cyotes.
All I can do is climb a mountain stare out at the wilderness and think.
Today’s deep thoughts:
In the last few years my visits to Port Moody, BC in need of the best treatment an elite body can find have become more frequent. “The Bur” made the mistake of misrepresenting my age as he picked me up from YVR the other night, “Preddi, how old are you now, 29?”.
Ugh. I looked at him cross eyed from the passenger seat.
Annoyed. Feathers ruffled.
“Excuse you? We both know I am 28 and some months, so please stop the nonsense”.
But the truth is I am getting older. Many of the things I could get away with when I was a 19 year old college freshman at Illinois, I don’t dare reenact at 28.
For instance I would show up for practice in college and me and a certain partner in crime, would pick and choose which elements of the warm up we would participate in.
“Let’s see:
50m of Side shuffles?...Pass
60m of B-skips? Hmm...mebbe.
40 Lunges? I’ll give you 3—my best offer”.
Crime partner and I, would find great pleasure in this, and laugh our heads off silly, going through the motions but never truly completing 50% of the warm up. Then we would hop into our spikes, ready to do the hardest workout of the week, and complete it unscathed.
A hazardous result that only fortified our intent to do it again the next time.
(This would go on for semester after semester until I finally got my act together as an upper classman).
But, I can’t imagine myself pulling that stunt now, forget dedication and accountability. I am talking about ruptures and stupidity.
Admittedly my body doesn’t have the same resilience it did a decade ago. The approach I take with it has changed. I am more careful with it, respectful of it. Of course my craft depending on it is the main reason.
My coach stresses the importance of taking care of the “little things”. The little things are what tack on years of quality races to your career. The cool down, the diet, a good sleeping pattern, quality treatment, ice baths, managing ones personal life, and "Perdita avoiding Krispy Kreme".
Not doing the little things catch up with you. Not when you’re 19, 21 or 25...but when you have been doing this longer than you thought you would.
Relax. By no means am I announcing the twilight!
As it stands hurdlers get better with age. As our natural speed, power and explosion decline, (ala ageing 100m sprinters), if we can hone in more thoroughly on the strong technical component of our event, we can race, and be competitive into our thirties.
(Putting aside such things as motivation, injury avoidance, priorities, etc.).
So, without me knowing it I have adopted the mantra of “The little Things”. As if subconsciously sensing this shift from neophyte to expert, I made the transition silently.
One day I could care less about my cooling down, then the next I was manic about it.
I have been in track and field ever since I was nine years old. That is along time to demand excellence from one body. Imagine the number of repetitions, high levels of intensity, stress and taxation bestowed on a single frame. Mine.
So I guess a trip to Vancouver, with its thought provoking effects, is part of the little things. After all I may not be 19 anymore, but I certainly am not 29!
Peace out,
Perdeets
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