MY (S)HERO!

Every now and then I watch Dr. Phil and he says something a lot: "Every situation needs a hero".

Blank stare.

That would usually be how I'd look at the tele when he said it...and then I'd be giddy to see the domestic dysfunction that ensues.

But today that phrase came to mind and a light bulb came on. In this case it's not that my grandmother stole my winning multi million dollar lottery ticket, then wrote me out of her will. It's my racing. It's not so crisp or where I'd like it to be, so I'm in need of a hero.

Enter Captain save a hoe...hurdler...?

No. Because I came to the realization that the only possible hero in this situation is me.

Durr!.

Of course I won't be doing it alone but it starts there. So being the She-ro that I am, I'm gonna save my own damn self.

Yes Regis, final answer.

Dangit, I'm gonna put on my oxygen mask first and worry about the little kid flying solo beside me later...

Baaad analogy, yes I know.

But you get my point. And for me that's as simple as staying the course and giving it 100, in the midst of not seeing the results I sweat hard for.

I was 4th in Monaco and executed terribly. A string of three races with not one being anything I can take to the bank.

Literally....(almost).

Frustrating, yes. But I've had strings of three races before that have been exactly what I expected. Utter delight and bankability when this happens.

In six years on the circuit, I've learned the balancing act that keeps all jocks sane: Never get too high. Never get too low.

Stay somewhere in the middle. That's where you can thrive, be humble, believe and regroup if you have too.

Simple.

So I'm taking it back to the house, brushing my shoulders off and doing the work. Because its gonna show up. It has too.

Thanks for the ♥ today everyone...got it all! xo

Perdita

*Note: Thank God for Skype & 2.5 hour convos w/ the bestie! Phew. "Nicole G.--Walking folks off the ledge since 2003"... LOL!

"Don't do it girl. Don't you do it!"

**************

Now The Real Story of Monaco 2010

I was fortunate after the race in the cool down area to explain my side of race day to a foreign and very symphathetic camera crew...

You sure you really wanna know what happened out there?

ok, so I was doing my pre race imagery, ya just like so...

and suddenly right before the gun I hear this loud boom...

It was immediately apparent to me one of the girls had let one rip...eww...right beside me...lane 4...it sorta shook me...ya know?

...But I'm not understanding?

Yo guy!!...what do you mean I was in lane 4?!

Ooooh...

**Monaco race video**

Livestrong 2010

Livestrong is Lance Armstrong's global initiative to fight cancer. You'll recognize its symbol whenever you see someone wearing a yellow band on their wrist.

I have lost a loved one to the disease, and I don't think there is anyone in the world that hasn't been affected by it.

This year during the Tour de France Nike has printed thousands of messages of hope and inspiration on the streets of the tour from their athletes, celebrities and people involved with the cause.

I just received the picture of my own personal message written on the road.

Talk about the cool factor. More than anything I am proud that I supported the cause in this small but special way.

The opportunity is there for anyone around the world to submit their own message and have it written just like mine. Thousands have already done it and you can too by clicking: http://bit.ly/chlkbot.

Help the fight. Spread the word. Tweet and repost your own message or this one and let the world know your stance!

Livestrong!

Perdita

It's Go Time

It's funny how you work all year for one big goal and before you know it, it's time.  The entire season for me was never realistically going to be my winningest one. Rather it was a season to give chase. To plug away at things, take my lumps and be with the lead pack when things really matter. 

And I feel we have done that.

On this eve of the world champs there is not much else I can do physically in the next four days to be ready. But things can easily become too at ease and care free because the time is now. So in the eagerness to get this party started, I am reminding myself to keep that steel eyed focus until the final hour. Not a whole heap can be gained, but important bits can be lost.

2009 Season

Every step of the way I have savored the challenge that this season presented. I loved feeling my body change back, seeing my training results improve by precious milliseconds and experiencing the rebirth of that stone cold confidence in myself. 


More than anything this year has been really really fun, and guess who needed that the most?!

Quote # 5

My good girlfriend has been sending me a different quote everyday as a 10 day countdown to my race. This was today's: 

Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out. -Robert Collier

You go Robbie!  Because if my middle name hasn't been repetition for like ever!!.  I love this quote and my girl Al Boogie even more for supporting me in this way. And want to thank every one of my friends and family and fans that have reached out to say they got my back.

No one loves ya more,

P

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

Power Quote : Your Daily Dose Of Inspiration

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away"

















No clue where that hails from, some friends wrote it for me on a note.

Read it again this morning, before I started my day.




Hope it stays with you,

Perdita

Need Medicine For Melancholy

I woke up today not feeling like myself. I have had a lot to be pleased about in the last few weeks.
Back to track workouts, a foot that gets healthier by the day, and newly elected to the COC Athlete's Council.

So I was surprised that I felt enveloped in a cloud of "myeh" upon waking.

I brushed my teeth. Colgate didn't cure it.

I checked voicemail certain that a bubbly message from my youngest sister who lights up my day, would zap it.

"Mini Me" never called.


I Browsed through email, looking for that forthcoming/pending message from a producer at the Oprah Winfrey Show asking me to be on the entire hour talking about "Perdita's Favorite Things".

Nothing from "Anybody!@Harpo.com."
Sigh.

This left the one thing that can make me truly happy: nutritives!

I walked over to the fridge, certain a cheese omelet, like the one Darius made for Nina in "Love Jones" would cure me.
Except I had to make it for myself as my "Darius" had already left for work, melancholy-free, no doubt.

When I got there all I was greeted by was a carton of old cherry tomatoes, 'oh my gosh': "I can't believe it's not butter", and "Presidents Choice" organic maple syrup.


I mean come on.

No mozzarella. No eggs. No medicine for my melancholy.

With the shutting of the fridge door I felt the melancholy strengthen. Perhaps I even shuddered.

It's rare that I get like this, but when I do I dislike it. I was determined to shake it.

Potential Cures Contemplated:
1) Chocolate, but it doesn't exactly mesh with the whole I'm trying to get back into shape and be on the podium at world's next summer plan.

Bummer, because that could have been it.

2) Pedicure, however I'm not due for at least another five days. I can't wait that long for a cure.


Plus I can't justify $25 unless my toes are absolutely jacked and girlfriend has to put her back into getting the cuticles to fall into submission.

3) A movie, except all my friends were working. I have been to the movies alone, but that's always in a sans-melancholy, highly confident state.

I thought to go 'as is' today, would simply be like scratching a chicken pox.
And who does that help?

So that left the only outlet that cures my ills.

Going to the track!


But there was a slight problem, I had gone Sunday to Wednesday. Today is Thursday and it was already proclaimed a rejuvenation day. Which is ironic based on how I felt when I woke up.

Today was designed to be an easy, breezy, beautiful, Perdita-can-park-it-on-the-couch kinda day. Practice isn't resuming until Friday.

What's a melancholic hurdler to do?

I sat on the couch and thought.
I traded my track suit for some Levis' and thought some more.
I stuck my foot in a vat of ice for ten minutes, the usual maintenance protocol, shivering yet pensive.

That's when it hit me: I have the option!

For seven months the one outlet that soothes me, that I can always lose myself in was not there.
Some athletes despise training, it's a necessary evil. For me it is a thing I relish.


It doesn't matter what is going on in my life, for those few hours I am training, I just don't give a care.

Neighbour: "Perdita your house is on fire!"
My response: "I'll get some water, just after I finish these repeat 200m runs"

The same outlet that has caused me heartbreak has also afforded me the highest highs, I don't mind the trade off, hence why I keep coming back.

So to have lost then found it, to focus on having the option and to be grateful for it: this is my cure for melancholy.



And guess what just happened?
"Mini Me" just called, she got out of class at York early, wants to know if I, "Mega Me" want to see a movie, a matinee downtown in an hour!!

LOL, OK gotta rush...
Perdita

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