5 Months ,1 Week, 2 Days

Ok, dear readers (yes, all 6 of you, you know who you are), so this is where it gets personal. And well, kinda serious .

With tomorrow being January 1st, the first day of 2012, I have abandoned all semblance of being unique and creative by choosing IT as the first day of my reinvented journey prepping for and toward a 10 day biking trip starting June 9 along the pilgrimage route of (el?) Camino de Santiago in Spain- the final destination being Santiago de Compostela cathedral and personal redemption. Or a lot of Spanish wine, whichever comes first.

Now the down and dirty of it is:

- I am not in shape

- I have like 30 lbs plus to lose *

and lastly..

-I am not in shape.

*(and that's being kind to my pride, it's way more. But let's be realistic about what I need to lose to bike without being felled by a stroke, a coronary, daily tire blowouts straining from their extra burden, or the heartbreak of humiliation when I can't keep up with the rest of 'em)

I talk the talk here in my blog about taking risks and facing fears and blah blah blah, but I have known about this trip for well over a year and and have not been consistent with the fitness program I REALLY WAS GOING TO COMMIT TO last August. Yup I did a WHOLE lotta prep on paper for it- charts, graphs, projected goals..but didn't sustain it in a consistently big way, making the usual excuses of stress, time, fatigue.

I let Life get in the way of getting a Life.

We often make the hugely misguided error of opting for the act of 'pampering ourselves' to look like the exact opposite of what would make us feel really really great. An overindulgence never actually feels as good as the perk of piousness brought on by undeniable self-control and self-discipline in the face of temptation. The exhilaration of a good sweat after a tough workout, the hint of a knawing hunger in your belly because you actually let it get hungry enough to um..knaw. Do you ever get a little rush when you say no to the bad-for-you and yes to the good-for-you?

So yes, this is it. This is where I put the pedal to the metal, like for real. And by telling you, I risk making a fool of and embarrassing myself beyond what I could bear if this becomes just another cheerleading rah rah as the game begins that I always feel certain I will win, based solely on the enthusiasm of my rah rah. But at some point ya gots ta play the fricking game, in order to win it!

I've simplified the New Year's Resolution thing into one mantra for 2012 : Every Move A Healthy Move. And that means physically, economically, socially, morally, spiritually, any " ----ally" you can think of. When given a choice, just do the right thing to be healthy. Or if you want the abbreviated version, "Just do it"-like Nike has been telling us for what seems like forever.

This is where I actually get to experience an incredible opportunity to hold on for the ride of my life! And so I ask myself, barring injury, can I do it? I've heard that when trying to get out of doing something by saying ' I can't' we are really saying ' I won't ', which only requires a sprinkle of insight, rapidly followed by a dash of attitude adjustment to turn it into an ' I will' (um who died and made me Mary Poppins )

So, once AGAIN, can I do this thing? You may want to follow me along the way to find out.

(Teaser Alert: And we all know this journey isn't just gonna end up being about getting ready for a bike ride..)

Well I hit the rowdy road and many kinds I met there

Many stories told me of the way to get there

So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out

There's so much left to know, and I'm on the road to find out

-Cat Stevens

Risqué Business

..well actually this title should really be "Risky Business" , I just wanted to pique your interest. But I promise to provide a risqué tidbit by the end of this.


Every so often, Life has a way of making us pay attention.Or rather DEMANDS that we pay attention , that we Take Stock. To look at the particular trajectory we are currently hurtling toward due to either 1) careful choices driven by our great decision-making and goal -envisioning skills, 2) being bumper-car-slammed into it or 3) all hurtling aside, the fact that we are instead drifting into that trajectory slowly, bobbing around aimlessly like a sailboat without wind, sincerely hoping at least our bobbing is headed in the right direction.

There are the big epiphanies and the smaller Aha! moments that serve to confirm we're on track or could really switch things up abit. I had one of those Aha! moments this morning when I realized that yes, I've essentially given up shaving my armpits and legs. Just can't be bothered. (Self-talk rationalization : "I'm blonde, you can't see 'em". Fact: wellll not since you were in Grade 2, Sister). Now for a girl, this is actually the equivalent of a guy wearing those thick (yet cozy) navy sweatpants that gather in with elastic at the ankles. The message being given to your Universe - as well as any hopes of an escort to next Sunday's Flea Market- is that you opted for Option #3 in the Trajectory Choice Thingy above.

A bigger Aha! moment:walking into the foyer of my mother's lovely new retirement home and being greeted by a phalanx of walkers (the kind you push) with their friendly , elderly owners seated behind them. It reminded me of all those gladiators behind their chariots in Ben Hur, waiting to hear their next command from Charlton Heston.


What struck me was that every single one of these dear people has a rich story behind them, they too picked up a football game in the park with their high school buddies, played pranks on their teachers, were the president of their company or led a battalion, modelled for the Sears catalogue, and grappled in the back seat of their Studebaker "Lark" (there! the risque part, as promised).


Where they are now is where we may be someday. ..will we have lived our best and biggest life in our best trajectory , and all with smooth legs and pits?


Now these Aha! moments are just about as much use as eyeliner to a raccoon if we don't take the next step after their "Reveal" to us, which is- wait for it.. take a risk, do something different, shift perspective...


So that's just what I'm doing. Today I left my pack in the gym locker without a padlock..and tomorrow?..well, just stay tuned..


When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn and I go for a ride...
Look out!..
Helter Skelter
Helter Skelter
Helter Skelter
Yeah , hu, hu
Look out because here I come!

- The Beatles

BAR (becue) WARS- The Thrill of the Grill

So I've been in my 'new' apartment for 5 years now and in all that time have yearned for a barbecue, yet haven't done a whole lot to make that happen, blaming the small patio, the cost...Actually last summer I did buy a picnic-type model but after 3 hrs trying to put it together I discovered there were vital parts missing (and that's not including those in my head ) and I cowardly abandoned the project.

So today I finally went for it and bought a half-decent BBQ, my dream realized. It needed to be red, compact and hopefully a Coleman, to bring back those happy camper memories... and I got a great deal- a Coleman Roadtrip for $ 119 (usual price $200). Now being ' self-assembly -challenged' and having had that recent experience where that $50 BBQ I was trying to build ended up in the city dump incinerator (where I would have liked to have personally flung it and myself), my initial plan was to absolutely get someone else to do it. But in the interest of expediting the process of getting to a home-cooked barbecued meal, I decided to just check out the directions- perhaps these ones would be more simple and all the correct number and size of screws, nuts, and bolts would be included.

So you can imagine my delight to discover ,when I slid the actual BBQ out of the box, that it was for the most part pre-assembled Praise Jeebus! It just needed the legs and wheels set up ,and the propane attached ..No problem. Ahhh but that joy was shortlived as it took me TWO HOURS to put just those pieces AKA This Dang Thing together , with an abrupt detour into 'these legs have gotta be on backwards because I don't think this BBQ is supposed to be dragging its ass on the ground like that when wheeling it away' . Followed by a tag team of tears and the bleating out of very bad words . Repeatedly.

Now I'm no dummy..however my name is Joanie Hoban and I am powerless over my problem with spacial perception. I actually scored 45 % on a university psychometric exam testing that ability (or lack of that ability) in me. You know, the kind of exam that shows you a series of diagrams of flat papers with dashed 'fold' lines and then asks you to match them up with the 3D shape they will become if folded along those lines -be it a cube or a pyramid or a shape that looks like any given Ikea hanging dining room lamp .

So when it comes to assembly , I can actually feel the chromosomes seeping out of my body- along with the sweat- as the experience transforms me into the village idiot, plain and simple. Now,I can embroider and do beadwork to beat the band (and that's gotten me really far in life) but that must originate from a whole other subclass of manual dexterity directed by the nervous system because I actually had to laugh out loud at myself as I watched my hand trying to grip/work a wrench as if it had lost its opposing thumb, only for the wrench to be fumbled offside. And that happened repeatedly as well. Then along come those tiny, short tearbursts of frustration again, peppered by an ongoing voiceover (yes , I say it out loud, for effect) of self- deprecating dialogue .

But , jumping forward to the moral of the story, I got to experience the excitement of seeing my flashy little red BBQ light up on the first ignition, all flirty like it just saw me for the first time and I'm just its type. It delivered the warm rush of accomplishing something that could have been handed off to someone who it comes easily to, but instead taking on the challenge and facing the fear predicted by that self-fulfilling prophecy of a 45% test result so long ago . It really leaves you feeling kinda , y'know, all puffed up . ..oh and another offshoot effect? I got to find out what a 'bushing' is. The hardware kind. Oh dear, I think you better Wikepedia it.

It's not the day you have to manage, but the moment
And it's not the dragon you have to slay, but the fear

And it's not the path you have to know, but the destination

- A Note From The Universe

Respiro*

You never really believe you will outlive your parent. You know it makes sense at every level of understanding but there is a deep , primal feeling in your gut that they will always be here (warts and all), like they always have been since your earliest memory.. So for the half dozen or so of you, my faithful blog viewers (who have probably been thinking they outlived me, given my 10 month silence here), we are now going to delve ever so briefly into the seminal topic for a blog about facing your fears: the fear of losing your parent realized.

So the memorial is over, Dad's ashes are on an express route out to sea, and..what was learnt from this experience, this final wrap on the Big Cinematic Experience that was my father's life? Welll, it's brought unexpected vision and ..inspiration. In-spir-ation:the breathing in of air, or the breathing in of someone or something else's belief about What Is Possible. For you, for them..for who they were and now are, and for who you are and now could be. (Ok, now even I'm confused.) But the oxygen that fills our lungs with life is no less resuscitating than the sight we are bestowed with through another person's eyes focussed on the potential in ..us. The point is that in reflecting about the life (youth, school, work, family, decline to a ripe old age, and ultimate Ocean Nap) of a VERY Significant Other, we discover that, inevitably, we are going to be reaching out for -at maximum stretch- and gripping tightly on to whatever nugget of a baton they passed on to us to live our lives differently after their passing (and um, I mean that literally).

And that brings a whole MESS of yaHAHH! to how this Big Ol' Game of Snakes and Ladders looks after you dad he be gone. I kinda think my job is to continue to emanate the essence of Dad's best moment by incorporating it into a billion more of the best moments yet to be in my own life, moments that will preferably be well-intentioned, altruistic, fearless, selfless, noteworthy...Or, at the very least, moments that will keep me from losing my safe driver's discount before my insurance is up next November.

So, there you have it. Another fear realized and converted into a maze of words meant to lead me to a greater understanding by going through the writing of them. I know that it feels very verrry good to wake up , breathing (they do kind of go hand in hand), still have a shot at Life, to have it just poised and ready there for the taking, aw c'mon, let's say the GRABBING....eyes wide open, and by the kahunas. Obituaries tend to perpetuate the tone of a funeral durge, summoning our collective palpable sigh with how the departed one is 'survived' by family, friends etc etc, but I say let's kick it up a notch , put a more positive spin on all this death stuff and pronounce that person is now resonating in their loved ones, the reverberations of that life lost creating ever-growing concentric circles of influence paying forward into the little coves of our lives where still waters may perhaps have otherwise run abit too deep...

* Respiro-Italian for 'breath'