Moi!
I just got the confirmation that I was elected to the Canadian Olympic Committee Athlete Council. Six new members were voted in by our peers for a four year term this summer.
I am very excited about this as the council is the voice our peers, it speaks to the COCs commitment to finding ways to better serve high profile athletes in Canada.
I researched what the role entailed and was glad to know the council truly does impact change, it introduced the Athlete Excellence Fund. This is an awesome responsibility, and a great honor to bring the concerns and needs of my fellow athletes to the powers that be.
I plan to compete for another 4-5 years and hope to contribute to making things better for Olympians of tomorrow.
COC Release:http://www.olympic.ca/EN/organization/news/2008/0915.shtml
Super Happy,
Perdita
Tuesday, September 16
Sunday, September 14
Work Hard Play Hard
Mix N' Match
I had to get myself mentally ready for Friday's workout. Two things were going to be a first:
1). I was going to attempt my race warm up and this was a huge milestone. It is the one I use for fast sprinting days and competition. I have a series of warm ups that I use based on the intensity and demand of the workout session, each days is prescribed by my coach 'Gdub'. However being a pupil of his for almost 9 years, I on occasion have reserved the right to pick another one of his warmups all together. 'Gdub' has been known to grumble over this or send a few words my way, but its usually a lateral change on my part, so overall he knows I still get the job done.
2). Many of my workouts had been split between softer grass or football turf and then the harder track surface. However, Friday called for nothing but Mondo.
I was excited and curious about how I would feel, but also confident that I was going to be fine. I had taken my time and made the call knowing I was at the place where I could withstand the impact. All part of the highly successful "Phasing in Perdita Project".
To quote Tony the Tiger the race day warm up was Grrreat!
Well for the most part, the routine is a series of 8-10 exercises done up and down the track for 50m. Three routines in to it, I totally forgot what to do next. A routine I could perform with my eyes closed and did atleast three times a week for years was forgotten in months. In my excitement of the milestone I completely forgot to look up the routine or ask G' for a refresher on what it all entailed.
But really, I didn't know I would draw a blank on what to do. I mean had it been that long?!
Stumped and wanting to maintain my heart rate I improvised using a couple comparable components from other warm ups. Hoping for the first time back I could get away with this mix n' match of a warm up. I made a note to look up the real one over the weekend.
Yeah Weekends
Being back to a routine I am more accostomed to, means my weekends are precious. I work really hard during the week and try to have fun on the weekend. I still exercise on Saturday and Sunday but it is "Active Recovery", meaning I do light physical exercise and not necessarily track based.
I can do it on my own without my coach present and it usually takes a fraction of the time a week day workout takes. Bike, pool, long walks on the beach in Tahiti (ya right), etc. But honestly, the road I have been on the last seven months I am so over swimming pools and if I ever see another stationary bike...
Friday Nights
By the time Friday practice ends I'm usually suffering from vertigo as I run to my Subaru. The thought of 48 hours worth of being a real person entices me! No: "Perdita: girl in tights, no 'Eau de Tiger Balm' and no pooling lactic acid!
Friday night I feel like a convict escaped from jail, constantly afraid that the bang on my door is my coach coming to take me back. I exhibit all the tell tale signs of fugitive: turning off all the lights, peeking out the window, startled by everyday noises, placing the phone off the hook, huddled in my attic.
Forgive my artistic liscense here, but it just feels like that.
Sorta.
Happy 10th Birthday NTO!
So this Friday I went to an event hosted by my sponsor Nike. It was the 10th anniversary celebration of "NTO" or the flagship Nike store located in downtown Toronto. It was a private gala held at the store and was by invitation only, so glad they let me in! Phew. I brought along a couple friends and my younger sis "Mini".
The turn out was wonderful and leave it to Nike to put on a show like that in such a unique space. It was fun to be around the entire brand family, see some great product and mingle and two step the night away. I did infact hear my jam, "Smack That" by Akon, and I had to put down my double shot of OJ and stomp it down, right beside some Air Force Ones.
I must have looked crazy out on the dance floor by myself. Either that or a hurdler who did her race warm up sucessfully a few hours early, for the first time in months!
The Terry Fox Run
Sunday was also special for me because I was in my hometown of "P-town" AKA Pickering, ON. Everyone knows that I am a chick in love with her town and any oppurtunity to be there I take. I have been so embraced and supported by my community, they cheer me on win or lose and I love them for it!
Sunday was the annual Terry Fox Run, to raise funds for cancer research. I was there with the Mayor of Pickering Dave Ryan and other members of city council. Kevin & Co. did an excellent job at organizing, thanks for having me back again.
It was cool to also be there with Wayne Arthurs MPP, whose wife Susan was my first track coach in grade four at Glengrove P.S. I had never heard of track and field but was the only student in her grade three gym class to earn the excellence level for Canada Fitness. Mrs. Arthurs nurtured my talents and encouraged me to try out for the track team when I would be old enough the following year.
The rain held off and the crowd was a dedicated bunch. I spoke to the need to find a cure for this disease that has affected everyone some way, some how. For us as a nation never to forget Terry's will and the treasure that he is and to use him as an inspiration for life.
My mother was present and it was nice because she can't always make my appearances, glad she didn't miss such a important one.
I spent Sunday with my entire family as we celebrated my brothers birthday and his girlfriends too.
Happy Birthday "SnS"!
Guess what mama cooked? My favourite: Oxtail! My mom is a fantastic cook, she doesn't do it often, she'll admit--but when she does, Oh my lanta! Now I can't wait for Monday to burn it all off.
I played hard, now another week to work hard.
I think I hear the bounty hunters coming. ;-)
Perdita
I had to get myself mentally ready for Friday's workout. Two things were going to be a first:
1). I was going to attempt my race warm up and this was a huge milestone. It is the one I use for fast sprinting days and competition. I have a series of warm ups that I use based on the intensity and demand of the workout session, each days is prescribed by my coach 'Gdub'. However being a pupil of his for almost 9 years, I on occasion have reserved the right to pick another one of his warmups all together. 'Gdub' has been known to grumble over this or send a few words my way, but its usually a lateral change on my part, so overall he knows I still get the job done.
2). Many of my workouts had been split between softer grass or football turf and then the harder track surface. However, Friday called for nothing but Mondo.
I was excited and curious about how I would feel, but also confident that I was going to be fine. I had taken my time and made the call knowing I was at the place where I could withstand the impact. All part of the highly successful "Phasing in Perdita Project".
To quote Tony the Tiger the race day warm up was Grrreat!
Well for the most part, the routine is a series of 8-10 exercises done up and down the track for 50m. Three routines in to it, I totally forgot what to do next. A routine I could perform with my eyes closed and did atleast three times a week for years was forgotten in months. In my excitement of the milestone I completely forgot to look up the routine or ask G' for a refresher on what it all entailed.
But really, I didn't know I would draw a blank on what to do. I mean had it been that long?!
Stumped and wanting to maintain my heart rate I improvised using a couple comparable components from other warm ups. Hoping for the first time back I could get away with this mix n' match of a warm up. I made a note to look up the real one over the weekend.
Yeah Weekends
Being back to a routine I am more accostomed to, means my weekends are precious. I work really hard during the week and try to have fun on the weekend. I still exercise on Saturday and Sunday but it is "Active Recovery", meaning I do light physical exercise and not necessarily track based.
I can do it on my own without my coach present and it usually takes a fraction of the time a week day workout takes. Bike, pool, long walks on the beach in Tahiti (ya right), etc. But honestly, the road I have been on the last seven months I am so over swimming pools and if I ever see another stationary bike...
Friday Nights
By the time Friday practice ends I'm usually suffering from vertigo as I run to my Subaru. The thought of 48 hours worth of being a real person entices me! No: "Perdita: girl in tights, no 'Eau de Tiger Balm' and no pooling lactic acid!
Friday night I feel like a convict escaped from jail, constantly afraid that the bang on my door is my coach coming to take me back. I exhibit all the tell tale signs of fugitive: turning off all the lights, peeking out the window, startled by everyday noises, placing the phone off the hook, huddled in my attic.
Forgive my artistic liscense here, but it just feels like that.
Sorta.
Happy 10th Birthday NTO!
So this Friday I went to an event hosted by my sponsor Nike. It was the 10th anniversary celebration of "NTO" or the flagship Nike store located in downtown Toronto. It was a private gala held at the store and was by invitation only, so glad they let me in! Phew. I brought along a couple friends and my younger sis "Mini".
The turn out was wonderful and leave it to Nike to put on a show like that in such a unique space. It was fun to be around the entire brand family, see some great product and mingle and two step the night away. I did infact hear my jam, "Smack That" by Akon, and I had to put down my double shot of OJ and stomp it down, right beside some Air Force Ones.
I must have looked crazy out on the dance floor by myself. Either that or a hurdler who did her race warm up sucessfully a few hours early, for the first time in months!
The Terry Fox Run
Sunday was also special for me because I was in my hometown of "P-town" AKA Pickering, ON. Everyone knows that I am a chick in love with her town and any oppurtunity to be there I take. I have been so embraced and supported by my community, they cheer me on win or lose and I love them for it!
Sunday was the annual Terry Fox Run, to raise funds for cancer research. I was there with the Mayor of Pickering Dave Ryan and other members of city council. Kevin & Co. did an excellent job at organizing, thanks for having me back again.
It was cool to also be there with Wayne Arthurs MPP, whose wife Susan was my first track coach in grade four at Glengrove P.S. I had never heard of track and field but was the only student in her grade three gym class to earn the excellence level for Canada Fitness. Mrs. Arthurs nurtured my talents and encouraged me to try out for the track team when I would be old enough the following year.
The rain held off and the crowd was a dedicated bunch. I spoke to the need to find a cure for this disease that has affected everyone some way, some how. For us as a nation never to forget Terry's will and the treasure that he is and to use him as an inspiration for life.
My mother was present and it was nice because she can't always make my appearances, glad she didn't miss such a important one.
I spent Sunday with my entire family as we celebrated my brothers birthday and his girlfriends too.
Happy Birthday "SnS"!
Guess what mama cooked? My favourite: Oxtail! My mom is a fantastic cook, she doesn't do it often, she'll admit--but when she does, Oh my lanta! Now I can't wait for Monday to burn it all off.
I played hard, now another week to work hard.
I think I hear the bounty hunters coming. ;-)
Perdita
Thursday, September 11
Finally, Wind Over Water
OFSAA Nostalgia
When I am in the city (T.O) there are a few options when it comes to picking a workout venue. Today I decided to venture to Centennial Stadium in Etobicoke. My whole reasoning here is because I needed a hill and there are many close by, but really because my career as a competitor started in that stadium. I won two OFSAA medals (only the top ~20 H.S athletes in the province can qualify) here for Pine Ridge Secondary School in 1997 and it was my first year back to track after quitting for a couple years. Hurdles weren't even on the radar.
Today's workout called for a little bit more from me physically and I was going at it alone. So I needed the extra inspiration, it was corny, nostalgic and it worked. I recalled winning a silver in both the 100m and 4x100m relay and being pleased, but not satisfied. What a journey I have been on in the ten years since then. Being at that track made me remember how effortless and uncomplicated athletics was for me. This is not the case as a professional athlete and sometimes I miss the innocence of not having to think so much.
A Convo With Mom
I told my mom last night that today's workout would have been a piece of cake this time last year, but as it stands, today it will be a challenge. My mom let out a scream over the phone, the mere mention of her child back on the track excited her. "Pedeet, you training tomorrow?! Praise Gawd!". Confused by this I said "Ummm...Ya?". Evidently my mom thought the entire time I have been injured I have basically sat on the couch eating oxtail the last eight months. And today September 11th I woke up and decided to do "build-ups" just because it was that time. Gotta love her!
Really, it is my fault she had this impression. I have been pretty hush-hush about my progress and my status from the onset. I have found it easier to deal this way. It's a girl's perogative, right. So for all my mother knew, indeed I was nursing my injury as I was told to stay off it, hence missing the Olympics. And it would be just like her middle child to numb the pain with oxtail!
I wish.
I had forgot to tell her that I had started track workouts just a short time ago, but had them alternated with bike, pool and circuits. The phasing in process still demanded that I don't go back to back just to be cautious. My team is the best and most conservative bunch and their mission is to get it right, and I trust them.
Healthy Foot 101
Mother was so pleased to hear about my progress as I explained to her being in a cast for four weeks has an effect that lingers. If i was the average Joe'dita I'd be back to normal ages ago. However being a world class sprint hurdler there are so many checks and balances that have to be adhered to along the way. The proprioception, strength, elasticity and flexibility of the many bones, ligaments and muscles in my foot. Along with stiffness, rigidity, inflammation, pain, bone density and scar tissue all of which have to be addressed and combated against. If one thing is out of whack it puts the rest of my body at risk for injury and for it to not function optimally.
I have to get my foot to a point where it can with stand many times my body weight as I pound on it over and over again. If I were a diver or swimmer this wouldn't be as paramount, but this is very important since my event is high impact and asymmetrical, my right leg is my lead leg, the left my trail. I already have a built in dysfunction, so to speak. My left side demands much more than my right side, and this was the side I have had to stay off of. More than anything I need that confidence that I can blast off this thing without hesitation or being gentle with it. You can't train hard that way and you can't be a contender that way either.
Learned From The Past
No one more than my mother understood the need for me to listen to my body this summer and not come back too quickly. She watched my disappointment in Helsinki at the 2005 Worlds, I was the reigning World Champion and did not even make the final. In 2006 she saw me search for the consistency needed to thrive in this sport and not find it. All because after my 2004 injury I rushed back to training resulting in a litany of injuries. How does it go? "Fool me once...".
I told her I am where I need to be, now, only because she helped me make the decision to sit out the biggest event of my sport so I could live to race another day. My mother helped ease my fears of letting others down and let me know this was ok. Hitting home that my family is behind any choice that I make and they stand behind me in victory and they will do nothing less than that in my time of need. According to her "I am the gold medal".
So how right was it today to be at Centennial, back at the beginning, healthy and doing a real track workout, weeks ahead of schedule.
Instead of water under me, for the first time in a long time I felt the wind!
I can't describe it more than with this word: GRATEFUL.
Fall training here I come...no make that, here I am!
Happy Happy Joy Joy,
Perdita
When I am in the city (T.O) there are a few options when it comes to picking a workout venue. Today I decided to venture to Centennial Stadium in Etobicoke. My whole reasoning here is because I needed a hill and there are many close by, but really because my career as a competitor started in that stadium. I won two OFSAA medals (only the top ~20 H.S athletes in the province can qualify) here for Pine Ridge Secondary School in 1997 and it was my first year back to track after quitting for a couple years. Hurdles weren't even on the radar.
Today's workout called for a little bit more from me physically and I was going at it alone. So I needed the extra inspiration, it was corny, nostalgic and it worked. I recalled winning a silver in both the 100m and 4x100m relay and being pleased, but not satisfied. What a journey I have been on in the ten years since then. Being at that track made me remember how effortless and uncomplicated athletics was for me. This is not the case as a professional athlete and sometimes I miss the innocence of not having to think so much.
A Convo With Mom
I told my mom last night that today's workout would have been a piece of cake this time last year, but as it stands, today it will be a challenge. My mom let out a scream over the phone, the mere mention of her child back on the track excited her. "Pedeet, you training tomorrow?! Praise Gawd!". Confused by this I said "Ummm...Ya?". Evidently my mom thought the entire time I have been injured I have basically sat on the couch eating oxtail the last eight months. And today September 11th I woke up and decided to do "build-ups" just because it was that time. Gotta love her!
Really, it is my fault she had this impression. I have been pretty hush-hush about my progress and my status from the onset. I have found it easier to deal this way. It's a girl's perogative, right. So for all my mother knew, indeed I was nursing my injury as I was told to stay off it, hence missing the Olympics. And it would be just like her middle child to numb the pain with oxtail!
I wish.
I had forgot to tell her that I had started track workouts just a short time ago, but had them alternated with bike, pool and circuits. The phasing in process still demanded that I don't go back to back just to be cautious. My team is the best and most conservative bunch and their mission is to get it right, and I trust them.
Healthy Foot 101
Mother was so pleased to hear about my progress as I explained to her being in a cast for four weeks has an effect that lingers. If i was the average Joe'dita I'd be back to normal ages ago. However being a world class sprint hurdler there are so many checks and balances that have to be adhered to along the way. The proprioception, strength, elasticity and flexibility of the many bones, ligaments and muscles in my foot. Along with stiffness, rigidity, inflammation, pain, bone density and scar tissue all of which have to be addressed and combated against. If one thing is out of whack it puts the rest of my body at risk for injury and for it to not function optimally.
I have to get my foot to a point where it can with stand many times my body weight as I pound on it over and over again. If I were a diver or swimmer this wouldn't be as paramount, but this is very important since my event is high impact and asymmetrical, my right leg is my lead leg, the left my trail. I already have a built in dysfunction, so to speak. My left side demands much more than my right side, and this was the side I have had to stay off of. More than anything I need that confidence that I can blast off this thing without hesitation or being gentle with it. You can't train hard that way and you can't be a contender that way either.
Learned From The Past
No one more than my mother understood the need for me to listen to my body this summer and not come back too quickly. She watched my disappointment in Helsinki at the 2005 Worlds, I was the reigning World Champion and did not even make the final. In 2006 she saw me search for the consistency needed to thrive in this sport and not find it. All because after my 2004 injury I rushed back to training resulting in a litany of injuries. How does it go? "Fool me once...".
I told her I am where I need to be, now, only because she helped me make the decision to sit out the biggest event of my sport so I could live to race another day. My mother helped ease my fears of letting others down and let me know this was ok. Hitting home that my family is behind any choice that I make and they stand behind me in victory and they will do nothing less than that in my time of need. According to her "I am the gold medal".
So how right was it today to be at Centennial, back at the beginning, healthy and doing a real track workout, weeks ahead of schedule.
Instead of water under me, for the first time in a long time I felt the wind!
I can't describe it more than with this word: GRATEFUL.
Fall training here I come...no make that, here I am!
Happy Happy Joy Joy,
Perdita
Tuesday, September 9
Moon Walking on Cloud 9
"Mechanism Off"
I was snatching in the gym with a girlfriend and chatting, I made mention to "Jay" how much my body has changed in the last few months. I am usually at the peak of fitness in the summer months, thick of thigh, robust arms and usually able to crack a walnut with my abs...however it is September and I cannot crack J-E-L-L-O.
My body looks more like it did in grade 8: sorta toned, but not really. Nothing is wrong with this of course, but I have been used to a body that is more solid than soft and droopy triceps are not the tell tale sign of an elite hurdler.
Of course I'm not exactly as I describe, but being trained to be in tune with every part of my physique I can't help but judge me. It has been a struggle turning this mechanism off, considering I have been working 10 long years to perfect it.
My friend "Jay" an elite weightlifter herself, saw where this chatter was going and quickly cut me off at the pass, before I could move on to the 'tale of sagging bottom'.
In essence what she said is we can be our own worst enemy at times. If we say to friends what we say to our own selves, we wouldn't have any. Take the comments you would say to a friend and tell them to yourself. They are always far more encouraging and positive. Don't get into the trap of being hard on yourself or negative towards your own being.
Damn Plato!
With these words I instantly apologized to my glutes.
But she is so right, could you imagine me telling my best friend, who had an injury and was relegated to the pool to aid in her recovery that: "Eww, Your butt is jiggling--it never used to do that last summer" or "Man you only have a one pack, what happened to the other five, home girl?"
Mean stuff and I'd never say that, of course I'd encourage her. I'd tell her how great she looked, I knew how hard she was working and I couldn't wait till she was back.
Health and Long Term Goals
I can't expect to look like I normally do based on pool and bike workouts, but the protocol I am following is the best program to get me back to peak form and performance. When my team and I sat down in the summer (with Beijing out of the way) we discussed what my goals were, and they assessed how they could help me achieve them. The immediate one was to get me healthy in time to begin regular training in October and to be able to train without interruption or backing off.
They cautioned me to hang in there and be patient, this plan was for quality of the long term. I have made the mistake of coming back from injury too soon and my 2005 and 2006 season were evidence of this. Being older, wiser and a veteran in my sport I'll let softer thighs set in now (temporarily!), if it means being ready for London 2012, and IAAF World Championships in Berlin next summer.
Small Victories
I have learned to enjoy the little victories on the road to recovery and they are small but make me feel absolutely triumphant.
Last night I was able to get rid of the rigid orthotic I had been wearing since April. My doctors wanted me wearing it to support my foot as long as possible. It is custom made from very hard material and difficult to run in freely. I have traded them in for a more flexible insert closer to the ones that I always wore pre-injury.
You should have seen me walk out of the shop with them in my shoes the 30 metres to my car. I was so giddy with the milestone it was like I was moon walking on cloud 9!
I wanted to yell to everyone in the plaza parking lot: "Look at my feets people!! Bet'cha never seen Nikes with inserts like these!".
One small step forward but a big leap of triumph for me!
Be back soon,
Perdi
I was snatching in the gym with a girlfriend and chatting, I made mention to "Jay" how much my body has changed in the last few months. I am usually at the peak of fitness in the summer months, thick of thigh, robust arms and usually able to crack a walnut with my abs...however it is September and I cannot crack J-E-L-L-O.
My body looks more like it did in grade 8: sorta toned, but not really. Nothing is wrong with this of course, but I have been used to a body that is more solid than soft and droopy triceps are not the tell tale sign of an elite hurdler.
Of course I'm not exactly as I describe, but being trained to be in tune with every part of my physique I can't help but judge me. It has been a struggle turning this mechanism off, considering I have been working 10 long years to perfect it.
My friend "Jay" an elite weightlifter herself, saw where this chatter was going and quickly cut me off at the pass, before I could move on to the 'tale of sagging bottom'.
In essence what she said is we can be our own worst enemy at times. If we say to friends what we say to our own selves, we wouldn't have any. Take the comments you would say to a friend and tell them to yourself. They are always far more encouraging and positive. Don't get into the trap of being hard on yourself or negative towards your own being.
Damn Plato!
With these words I instantly apologized to my glutes.
But she is so right, could you imagine me telling my best friend, who had an injury and was relegated to the pool to aid in her recovery that: "Eww, Your butt is jiggling--it never used to do that last summer" or "Man you only have a one pack, what happened to the other five, home girl?"
Mean stuff and I'd never say that, of course I'd encourage her. I'd tell her how great she looked, I knew how hard she was working and I couldn't wait till she was back.
Health and Long Term Goals
I can't expect to look like I normally do based on pool and bike workouts, but the protocol I am following is the best program to get me back to peak form and performance. When my team and I sat down in the summer (with Beijing out of the way) we discussed what my goals were, and they assessed how they could help me achieve them. The immediate one was to get me healthy in time to begin regular training in October and to be able to train without interruption or backing off.
They cautioned me to hang in there and be patient, this plan was for quality of the long term. I have made the mistake of coming back from injury too soon and my 2005 and 2006 season were evidence of this. Being older, wiser and a veteran in my sport I'll let softer thighs set in now (temporarily!), if it means being ready for London 2012, and IAAF World Championships in Berlin next summer.
Small Victories
I have learned to enjoy the little victories on the road to recovery and they are small but make me feel absolutely triumphant.
Last night I was able to get rid of the rigid orthotic I had been wearing since April. My doctors wanted me wearing it to support my foot as long as possible. It is custom made from very hard material and difficult to run in freely. I have traded them in for a more flexible insert closer to the ones that I always wore pre-injury.
You should have seen me walk out of the shop with them in my shoes the 30 metres to my car. I was so giddy with the milestone it was like I was moon walking on cloud 9!
I wanted to yell to everyone in the plaza parking lot: "Look at my feets people!! Bet'cha never seen Nikes with inserts like these!".
One small step forward but a big leap of triumph for me!
Be back soon,
Perdi
Saturday, September 6
“Swimming Swimming in a Swimming Pool”
I must admit that I detest swimming, it ruins my chemically straightened hair and the smell of chlorine infuses itself within my nostrils all day long. However, with an injured foot the water takes a lot of the pressure off weight bearing. Therefore a lot of my therapy called for me to be immersed in water, it was tedious and a reminder of what I could not do but necessary to keep up my running cadence.
I use a community pool west of Toronto and the first time I got in the pool I sank like a rock. With such little body fat there is nothing buoyant about me. The lifeguard on duty had to attach two aqua belts to my torso to keep me afloat.
Bless her.
I know I must stick out like a sore thumb: toned, Ramada shower cap adorned and easily annoyed when innocently splashed by tweens performing canon balls around me. However the pools patrons and staff had come to recognize me and embrace me as their own sprinting water baby.
After being out of town for a few weeks in June I went to the pool and started my warm up drills in waist deep water as usual. The plan would be to attach a short coiled rope to my belts, then hook it to the side of the pool (to act as resistance) then do interval sprints for 35 minutes.
Five minutes into my routine the pool suddenly gets infiltrated by dozens upon dozens of senior citizens. I sensed something was up, they were not the usual suspects.
Quick to investigate I waded over to the life guard (coincidentally the same one who saved my life the first day at the pool), come to find out the lady at the front desk had me pay for the last five minutes of the public hours. Apparently I had just crossed over into aquacise for the oldies.
Gulp.
Not because there is anything wrong with being surrounded by senior citizens who glide through the water with more grace than I. But the lump in my throat was because I thought I had wasted my $3.50, now I would have to demand a refund.
I asked to speak to the head life guard who informed me that in the last few weeks public swim hours were cut back. And while normally this time would be open for lane swim it was now for senior-cise.
Who the hay?!...
I had to get this workout in, and coming all this way to leave without doing it was not an option for me. I hate to start a training session and not finish it. Leaving the track with anything undone guilts me the entire night. I have been known to drive back to the track late in the evening to finish any portion that got interrupted for any reason earlier in the day.
And besides the goddess of victory who watches over all athletes, great and small was certainly watching me from her perch above and taking notes on my dedication.
What will Perdita do?
That left me with two choices: tempt the powers that be or join in! So for an hour I bobbed, twisted, high kneed and swung my arms back vigorously with the best of em.
It was quite the experience and it had been so long since I had exercised to Phil Collins (however i'm drawing a blank recollecting the first).
Stay tuned for more tales from summer Rehab :)
Perdita
I use a community pool west of Toronto and the first time I got in the pool I sank like a rock. With such little body fat there is nothing buoyant about me. The lifeguard on duty had to attach two aqua belts to my torso to keep me afloat.
Bless her.
I know I must stick out like a sore thumb: toned, Ramada shower cap adorned and easily annoyed when innocently splashed by tweens performing canon balls around me. However the pools patrons and staff had come to recognize me and embrace me as their own sprinting water baby.
After being out of town for a few weeks in June I went to the pool and started my warm up drills in waist deep water as usual. The plan would be to attach a short coiled rope to my belts, then hook it to the side of the pool (to act as resistance) then do interval sprints for 35 minutes.
Five minutes into my routine the pool suddenly gets infiltrated by dozens upon dozens of senior citizens. I sensed something was up, they were not the usual suspects.
Quick to investigate I waded over to the life guard (coincidentally the same one who saved my life the first day at the pool), come to find out the lady at the front desk had me pay for the last five minutes of the public hours. Apparently I had just crossed over into aquacise for the oldies.
Gulp.
Not because there is anything wrong with being surrounded by senior citizens who glide through the water with more grace than I. But the lump in my throat was because I thought I had wasted my $3.50, now I would have to demand a refund.
I asked to speak to the head life guard who informed me that in the last few weeks public swim hours were cut back. And while normally this time would be open for lane swim it was now for senior-cise.
Who the hay?!...
I had to get this workout in, and coming all this way to leave without doing it was not an option for me. I hate to start a training session and not finish it. Leaving the track with anything undone guilts me the entire night. I have been known to drive back to the track late in the evening to finish any portion that got interrupted for any reason earlier in the day.
And besides the goddess of victory who watches over all athletes, great and small was certainly watching me from her perch above and taking notes on my dedication.
What will Perdita do?
That left me with two choices: tempt the powers that be or join in! So for an hour I bobbed, twisted, high kneed and swung my arms back vigorously with the best of em.
It was quite the experience and it had been so long since I had exercised to Phil Collins (however i'm drawing a blank recollecting the first).
Stay tuned for more tales from summer Rehab :)
Perdita
Tuesday, September 2
Summer of the Rat
Rats!
The summer of 2008 is not the year to take off in Athletics, for it is an Olympic year. But since this was my circumstance I made the most of my first summer off in over 10 years.
Bold & Beautiful
If you missed seeing the August cover of Chatelaine you missed a good one. I was fortunate to be one of three Olympians featured smack dab on the front. Alex Orlando, rhythmic gymnastics and Sherraine Schalm, fencing were the other two lovely ladies.
We shot the cover months before the games in Montreal and had a blast for eight hours on set. I'm all about giggling, double sided tape and fake eye lashes.
The magazine was fully briefed on my injury and we talked about the possibility I would have to sit out the games if my doctors thought it was too risky to compete. As a publication they could have totally gave me the boot, but rather they graciously and rightly decided that every story needed to be told. That is, both the triumphant and hard knocked, afterall sport encompasses both.
Hats off to Myles, Rachel and everyone at Chatelaine for featuring bold and beautiful by having three female Olympic athletes grace their legendary cover!
Happy Per-day to Me
Last year on August 29th I spent by birthday racing for a medal in Osaka at the World Championships. Silver was to be my gift.
That same date in 2006 I spent it racing in Zagreb, Croatia. Gifted with microwave popcorn from fellow hurdler Ginnie Powell and going shopping with her and Lolo Jones to the local flea market.
The 2005 edition of P-day had me in yet another European city, alone.
Where? I can’t remember.
Indeed, it was that exciting.
In 2004 I spent my birthday in the Olympic village watching the closing ceremonies on TV, my injured heel to bruised to make the march.
I rang in 23 the golden way, the newly minted 2003 World Champion. Earning the first global title by a female track athlete in Canadian history.
So basically if you ask me about my last ten birthdays I can tell you each one revolved around my racing. No cake, no candles, no townhouse in Pickering filled with family singing me ‘Happy Per-day’.
Enter 8.29.08
Taking full advantage of the situation, I planned a “Perdita’s Favourite Things” themed 28th Birthday party. It was for 150 of my closest friends in downtown Toronto and for four hours we partied like Track Stars (with the summer off, no less).
Thanks everyone for coming! It was memorable and my first organized birthday party since I was 6 years old-—where I still remember cheating while playing pin the tail on the donkey.
CBC & P
I went to Beijing as an analyst for CBC, a decision I thought long and hard about. I loved the new found challenge and seeing my third Olympics in a whole new way. Not everyone would have discussed from the sidelines an event they should have been in.
Think it courageous, cruel or cool, I have no regrets and loved every minute of it. I missed my day job yes, but dug the moonlight immensely.
It made me appreciate how fruitful and fragile life as a jock can be, and I can’t wait to be in the thick of that once again. Loving CBC for granting me that oppurtunity and the resulting perspective.
Next Up…
Wedding Bells
My bestest is getting married this weekend in Chicago and I’m going down for the ceremony. I better get a shout out from the preacher because I am the one that brought them together. Twas that fateful day in T.dot three years ago, this month. I bring people together...E-harmony better hurry up and get at me!
Autumn of the Rat Looms
I plan to regain my regular training routine in October. I’ll update you soon on what training has been like and the plan moving forward.
I had a great summer, worked hard and got to do many things I normally can't because of my racing schedule. But I am ready to get back to the grind...who knew I'd miss lactic acid and post workout pukes so much.
Tah!
Perdites
The summer of 2008 is not the year to take off in Athletics, for it is an Olympic year. But since this was my circumstance I made the most of my first summer off in over 10 years.
Bold & Beautiful
If you missed seeing the August cover of Chatelaine you missed a good one. I was fortunate to be one of three Olympians featured smack dab on the front. Alex Orlando, rhythmic gymnastics and Sherraine Schalm, fencing were the other two lovely ladies.
We shot the cover months before the games in Montreal and had a blast for eight hours on set. I'm all about giggling, double sided tape and fake eye lashes.
The magazine was fully briefed on my injury and we talked about the possibility I would have to sit out the games if my doctors thought it was too risky to compete. As a publication they could have totally gave me the boot, but rather they graciously and rightly decided that every story needed to be told. That is, both the triumphant and hard knocked, afterall sport encompasses both.
Hats off to Myles, Rachel and everyone at Chatelaine for featuring bold and beautiful by having three female Olympic athletes grace their legendary cover!
Happy Per-day to Me
Last year on August 29th I spent by birthday racing for a medal in Osaka at the World Championships. Silver was to be my gift.
That same date in 2006 I spent it racing in Zagreb, Croatia. Gifted with microwave popcorn from fellow hurdler Ginnie Powell and going shopping with her and Lolo Jones to the local flea market.
The 2005 edition of P-day had me in yet another European city, alone.
Where? I can’t remember.
Indeed, it was that exciting.
In 2004 I spent my birthday in the Olympic village watching the closing ceremonies on TV, my injured heel to bruised to make the march.
I rang in 23 the golden way, the newly minted 2003 World Champion. Earning the first global title by a female track athlete in Canadian history.
So basically if you ask me about my last ten birthdays I can tell you each one revolved around my racing. No cake, no candles, no townhouse in Pickering filled with family singing me ‘Happy Per-day’.
Enter 8.29.08
Taking full advantage of the situation, I planned a “Perdita’s Favourite Things” themed 28th Birthday party. It was for 150 of my closest friends in downtown Toronto and for four hours we partied like Track Stars (with the summer off, no less).
Thanks everyone for coming! It was memorable and my first organized birthday party since I was 6 years old-—where I still remember cheating while playing pin the tail on the donkey.
CBC & P
I went to Beijing as an analyst for CBC, a decision I thought long and hard about. I loved the new found challenge and seeing my third Olympics in a whole new way. Not everyone would have discussed from the sidelines an event they should have been in.
Think it courageous, cruel or cool, I have no regrets and loved every minute of it. I missed my day job yes, but dug the moonlight immensely.
It made me appreciate how fruitful and fragile life as a jock can be, and I can’t wait to be in the thick of that once again. Loving CBC for granting me that oppurtunity and the resulting perspective.
Next Up…
Wedding Bells
My bestest is getting married this weekend in Chicago and I’m going down for the ceremony. I better get a shout out from the preacher because I am the one that brought them together. Twas that fateful day in T.dot three years ago, this month. I bring people together...E-harmony better hurry up and get at me!
Autumn of the Rat Looms
I plan to regain my regular training routine in October. I’ll update you soon on what training has been like and the plan moving forward.
I had a great summer, worked hard and got to do many things I normally can't because of my racing schedule. But I am ready to get back to the grind...who knew I'd miss lactic acid and post workout pukes so much.
Tah!
Perdites
Sunday, August 31
Everyone Has a Blog These Days, In Welcoming You To Mine I Have Decided To Highlight My Many Years Of Qualification
Early Beginnings, Dedicated Despite Limited Materials
For as long as I can remember I have kept notes on myself. Today as a woman I am so grateful the little girl that I was saw this as something worth doing. Initially I wrote on whatever was available: envelopes, scrap paper, on the back of my mother’s old bingo cards. She only ever kept the ‘winners’, or ‘near winners’ for show and tell. “Look I only needed B16 to give me the sputnik to split the $1500 jackpot!” she’d exclaim.
The bingo card would get taped to our fridge with the winning or last needed number circled proudly or regrettably in fuschia pink dabber ink and left for all to marvel. Or perhaps it was a point of focus for her. A reminder of what needed to be done the next time at Delta Bingo to reach her goal? I suspect this is where I as the athlete got into the habit of placing the time I wanted to run obsessively on my own fridge during college.
My sophomore year every morning, noon and night as I would eat my staple meal of Cinnamon Toast Crunch would see “12.7x, 12.7x, 12.7x….”. My only regret is that I didn’t have a fuschia pink bingo dabber back then.
Willing to Change With the Times & Upgrade Methods Used
As I grew older I become more organized, going to the dollar store and buying my first journal to keep all my thoughts in one place. I would hide my diaries in my underwear and sock drawer, hoping no one would go there. However, I have three sisters and no one out rightly owned their own under apparel back in those days in our house.
With one of my first collections it became clear to me someone was reading my thoughts. In one entry I wrote about not liking something about myself. Of course my diary was a private forum, or so I thought, therefore I unabashedly unleashed on myself. The following day one of my sisters made reference to this personal short coming! Not making fun, but in fact praising me about it. The girl was trying to verbally and publicly inject me with insta-confidence and acceptance of this perceived flaw.
Today I think, what a beautiful thing to do for a sibling. But back then all I could think was: “That literary peeping Tom, how dare she!” I went to my mom the next day and put in a request for one of those diaries with the flimsy locks attached. It was there seven months later at Christmas. Go Santa-Mom.
A Chignon & Pocket Protector
In grade three we had to go to school dressed as what we wanted to be when we grew up. My mother dressed me as a writer, because this is what I proclaimed I wanted to be one day. Always supportive and always one to make a way, my mother dressed me as best she could to reflect what a writer must look like. Smart, professional, poised with glasses and a chignon!
Perfect.
I walked to school with a book and a pocket protector, so proud to reflect my life’s calling. However, when I got to class Mrs. Raine and all the other teachers and student’s kept calling me a secretary!
Ugh.
Shy at that time and very small of voice (boy has that changed), I didn’t say much but was heart broken. Aware of my disappointment at being judged all wrong, my teacher graciously afforded me a name tag, it read thus: “Perdita the Writer”. It was perfectly brilliant in its simplicity and had me beaming for the rest of the day!
First Paid Gig At Age 8! …Well, In Merit vs. Moolah
That school year I was picked for the Literary Guild as the only student in grade three who got to read amongst the best grade four students from all the schools in the region. My mother sent me on the bus headed to the guild sans pocket protection this time, but she rightly kept the chignon and I no longer needed that name tag.
So, as you can see writing has always been there, it was my first love and second now only to my racing. And while it is true I am far more hurdler than writer, I am hoping the old me will one day be grateful the young me saw this as something worth doing. And it sure beats hiding my notes in an undies drawer, even if I do live alone.
Welcome to my blog and I hope you visit often as I finally chronicle the many adventures sporting life affords me.
Cheers,
Perdita Felicien
For as long as I can remember I have kept notes on myself. Today as a woman I am so grateful the little girl that I was saw this as something worth doing. Initially I wrote on whatever was available: envelopes, scrap paper, on the back of my mother’s old bingo cards. She only ever kept the ‘winners’, or ‘near winners’ for show and tell. “Look I only needed B16 to give me the sputnik to split the $1500 jackpot!” she’d exclaim.
The bingo card would get taped to our fridge with the winning or last needed number circled proudly or regrettably in fuschia pink dabber ink and left for all to marvel. Or perhaps it was a point of focus for her. A reminder of what needed to be done the next time at Delta Bingo to reach her goal? I suspect this is where I as the athlete got into the habit of placing the time I wanted to run obsessively on my own fridge during college.
My sophomore year every morning, noon and night as I would eat my staple meal of Cinnamon Toast Crunch would see “12.7x, 12.7x, 12.7x….”. My only regret is that I didn’t have a fuschia pink bingo dabber back then.
Willing to Change With the Times & Upgrade Methods Used
As I grew older I become more organized, going to the dollar store and buying my first journal to keep all my thoughts in one place. I would hide my diaries in my underwear and sock drawer, hoping no one would go there. However, I have three sisters and no one out rightly owned their own under apparel back in those days in our house.
With one of my first collections it became clear to me someone was reading my thoughts. In one entry I wrote about not liking something about myself. Of course my diary was a private forum, or so I thought, therefore I unabashedly unleashed on myself. The following day one of my sisters made reference to this personal short coming! Not making fun, but in fact praising me about it. The girl was trying to verbally and publicly inject me with insta-confidence and acceptance of this perceived flaw.
Today I think, what a beautiful thing to do for a sibling. But back then all I could think was: “That literary peeping Tom, how dare she!” I went to my mom the next day and put in a request for one of those diaries with the flimsy locks attached. It was there seven months later at Christmas. Go Santa-Mom.
A Chignon & Pocket Protector
In grade three we had to go to school dressed as what we wanted to be when we grew up. My mother dressed me as a writer, because this is what I proclaimed I wanted to be one day. Always supportive and always one to make a way, my mother dressed me as best she could to reflect what a writer must look like. Smart, professional, poised with glasses and a chignon!
Perfect.
I walked to school with a book and a pocket protector, so proud to reflect my life’s calling. However, when I got to class Mrs. Raine and all the other teachers and student’s kept calling me a secretary!
Ugh.
Shy at that time and very small of voice (boy has that changed), I didn’t say much but was heart broken. Aware of my disappointment at being judged all wrong, my teacher graciously afforded me a name tag, it read thus: “Perdita the Writer”. It was perfectly brilliant in its simplicity and had me beaming for the rest of the day!
First Paid Gig At Age 8! …Well, In Merit vs. Moolah
That school year I was picked for the Literary Guild as the only student in grade three who got to read amongst the best grade four students from all the schools in the region. My mother sent me on the bus headed to the guild sans pocket protection this time, but she rightly kept the chignon and I no longer needed that name tag.
So, as you can see writing has always been there, it was my first love and second now only to my racing. And while it is true I am far more hurdler than writer, I am hoping the old me will one day be grateful the young me saw this as something worth doing. And it sure beats hiding my notes in an undies drawer, even if I do live alone.
Welcome to my blog and I hope you visit often as I finally chronicle the many adventures sporting life affords me.
Cheers,
Perdita Felicien
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