A Sweaty Mess

There are many types of women in the word—short, tall, fat, thin, rational, psychotic—each unique in their own way.  Some women are gentle and delicate.  They won’t walk, they float; they don’t sweat, they glisten.  They are graceful and beautifully feminine.

Then there is me.

Not so gentle, definitely not delicate; I stomp around like a bull in a china shop and I sweat…unfortunately.  Allow me to paint you a picture…

I had been in a hurry all day at work on Tuesday—edit this document, attend this meeting, update this schedule—it was a relentless day.  In addition to this work related craziness, I was writing my midterm exam that evening for the grammar and punctuation class I  am taking.  My brain was all over the place trying to concentrate on work and remember the verb tense for the subjunctive mood.  Yes, verbs have moods.  I can totally relate.

My plan was to leave work early so I could get to my exam a little early, relax and cram a bit before the test started.  Yeah, not so much.  “Victoria can you look at this?  Victoria can you send me document XYZ?”  Hey dudes, can you leave me alone for five minutes so I can try and remember what a pronoun-antecedent agreement is?  After work I ended up rushing to my class and was in quite the state (read: chaos personified) by the time I arrived.  Here’s a simple little equation:

Southern Ontario humidity + fat girl running to class = sweaty mess

So there I am—heavy breathing, furrowed brow, shirt clinging to me (and not in a hot, sexy way…no, no, no, no, no)—trying desperately to remember what an appositive noun is (please don’t ask because I still can’t remember) while I write my three-hour exam.

So now my exam is finished and because I’m possibly the slowest test taker in the world, it takes me all three hours plus about 10 extra minutes my teacher gave me (because she’s super cool).  Now I need to rush to catch my train home.  I run to the subway station and miss the subway that is just pulling in.  Why you ask?  Because I got my bag caught in the turnstile.  Yeah…that is so how I role.  I am truly a comedy of errors.

I catch the next subway and finally get to the train station and of course the train I happened to be catching is boarding on the furthest track from where the subway let me off.  A quick shout out to anyone who works or knows someone who works for GO Transit—and I say this with love—there are 15 different tracks available at Union Station, why in the name of all that is holy do you make me run to the other side of the station?  WHY??

So I run—heart racing, heavy breathing—to the other side of the station and up not one but TWO flights of stairs to catch my train.  Anyone want to take a stab at what I looked like at the end of this little marathon?  Anyone?  Bueller?    SWEATY MESS.  I also think I may have had a mild heart attack, but I’m nota doctor so I can’t verify that for sure.

I board the train and I take  my seat…wait, what is that I feel?  Could it be?  Sweet mother of…it’s air conditioning!  Sweaty mess, meet your salvation.  A cool silver lining in what was a crazy sweaty day.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be that graceful, delicate, non-sweaty girl—my instincts tell me no—but maybe that’s ok.  The world needs all kinds of different women, even ones who are a sweaty mess I suppose. 😉





Ah Sugar Sugar…

classic_lgThere is nothing so lovely as the promise of food to soothe my aching soul.

A tad dramatic, but stick with me on this…

Food is my go-to choice for emotional comfort—happy or sad mind you—it can mend my most broken of hearts and reward my greatest triumphs.  There is one specific little food-type vixen, however, that can set my heart a flutter like no other.

Sugar.  You saucy little minx…

Whether she’s hiding in a carb-loaded macaroni and cheese, or spooned into a cup of tea in its most refined, granular state, I love all her forms.  Especially when I’ve had a bad day (I told you I was going somewhere with this).

I started back to work this week after a two-week, much deserved, I-have-to-get-out-of-this-office-before-I-curl-up-in-the-fetal-position-under-my-desk vacation.  Why on earth do I ever think that I’ll be able to ease back into work with a stroll rather than a sprint?  I never learn.

Yesterday and today were both filled with chaos-induced stress and ended with me in the office this evening until 7 pm. “Why, Victoria, why?”, you may be asking yourself, “why would you stay in the office so late?”. Some people tell me I’m crazy, others tell me I’m dedicated to my job.  I think I fall somewhere square in the middle…but I digress.

As I was packing up to leave the office, my mind was only on one thing – FOOD!  Ahhhh…COMFORT!!  Come to mama!!  Time Horton’s for donuts?  McDonald’s for a Quarter Pounder??  No..No…Cinnabon!!!  Sweet, sugary goodness all wrapped up in a convenient to-go box—they think of everything those Cinnabon people—and as luck would have it there is a Cinnabon on the way home at the train station.  Hallelujah!!

I made my way out of the -38°C polar vortex (thank you for teaching me that term this morning Al Roker) and into the warm train station.  So, here’s the thing about Cinnabon—it has a very obvious aroma.  Some might call it a dream-like state for your nostrils.  This sugar and cinnamon bouquet, however, does not stay contained within the walls of Cinnabon itself-no, no, no, no, no, no-it wafts throughout the entire train station, and proceeds to slap you in the face as you walk through the doors.  So even if you wanted to avoid it, there’s not a polar vortex’s chance in hell that’s going to happen.

Check the clock, 15 minutes until my train departs…check the Cinnabon, no line-up…at last the fates are aligned, destiny has taken my hand, mercy is for the weak!!! (ok, I may have watched the Karate Kid over the weekend, ignore that last part).  I meander over and stand in front of the Cinnabon, coming face-to-face with my arch nemesis.  It’s now-or-never, do-or-die time.  As I stand there, it suddenly occurs to me that I don’t have to do this.  I’ve been eating well this week, I’m back to the gym tomorrow morning, why do I want to ruin this?  Why, Victoria WHY???

The truth is I don’t want to ruin this, I was just momentarily blinded by Sugar and her promise of feel-good endorphins and mouth-watering deliciousness.  What she always fails to mention though is that the mouth-watering deliciousness quickly turns into an unhappy belly.  Oh and those feel-good endorphins?  Yeah they get pushed off a cliff by their good friend depressed sugar coma.  So what starts out as a rockin’ good time, quickly turns into Victoria laying on the couch moaning “why do I do this to myself?”.  Why indeed Victoria, why indeed.

So what do I do??  I’m standing there, 5 minutes left on the clock, unhappy, hungry, and worst of all desperate—and ain’t no one making a good choice when they are desperate.  I do a 180, searching for an answer, and behind me lies my salvation—a little sandwich shop.  Before I know it I’m standing in front of said shop ordering a turkey and veg on whole grain and a bottle of water.  Whole Grain Bread!  Vegetables!!  Water!!!  I have control…I have the POWER!!

Take that Sugar-bitch…there’s a new sheriff in town.

So what started as a completely crazy day and slowly morphed into what could have been a day in which I completely sabotaged myself, turned out ok.  Victoria got fed, felt better, and didn’t let good ol’ Sugar get the best of her.

Until me meet again my friend…until we meet again.

Kicking Ass and Taking Names

Today I am a rock star.

I channeled my inner athlete today.  I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and in doing so achieved something great.  I made myself believe that I can do anything I set my mind to.

The day didn’t start out that way though, that’s for sure.

It started with my appointment at the weight loss clinic.  I go every four weeks for a quick check in with the doctor, they take my blood pressure, and I hop on the scale for a check on how I’m doing.  Not so well apparently because over the last four weeks I gained two pounds.

I wasn’t in the best mood to begin with this morning, and I was dreading this appointment because I was not expecting good news.  Short of my blood pressure being bang on, it was indeed not great, but as my friend Kevin said to me, “today is a fresh start”.

Shortly after this, as I made my way home wallowing in my own self-pity, my friend Annie texted me to see if I was interested in going for a hike that afternoon.  The weather in Southern Ontario has finally taken a turn for the better, and today was a sunny, clear day with +20°C temperatures.   Annie wanted to head up to Mt. Nemo Conservation Area in north Burlington to hike the trails for a while.

I stared at her text and re-read it a few times.  Hiking….sitting.   Trails….couch.  Sore muscles tomorrow…feet up watching television today.  Decisions, decisions…

Then I remembered my last blog post about pushing myself to be uncomfortable.  So at 3:00pm I found myself in Annie’s car, sun roof open, speeding along to Mt. Nemo.  What was expected to be a fairly easy trail hike turned into a two-hour athletic adventure full of rough terrain, steep inclines, and climbing over rocks.  It was tough, it was exhausting…and it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.  I’ve include a few pictures from our hike…

We hiked the 2.3 km North Loop Trail (Orange)

We hiked the 2.3 km North Loop Trail (Orange)

Things start getting rough....

Things start getting rough….

Scaling rocks!!

Scaling rocks!!

The view from the top

The view from the top

When I finished the hike—despite a small injury at the 2 km mark (I twisted my ankle on a tree root hidden under some leaves)—I felt amazing, I felt invigorated!  I really did it!  And even in those moments during the hike when I as unsure of myself, I pushed though and did it.  I’ve never been prouder of myself and I can’t wait to do it again.  Once my ankle heals of course 😉

Slacker No More

Well, I have been a total slacker the last two weeks. Not only have eaten anything I wanted, I didn’t work out at all.

There, I said it.

Now, granted, I was sick with a cold the past week and a half. While I was sick though, I struggled with whether to push myself to keep moving and nourish myself, or whether to curl up on the couch and comfort myself. I chose the couch.

It was all just so easy! I felt crappy and wanted to feel better. My bed, the couch, the refrigerator…I wore a path between the three. I indulged in comfort food to make me feel better, all the while telling myself I’d deal with the fallout later. Indulging felt sooo good! But now, ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to later (the heartless, cruel b**ch that she is).

So this week I’m hitting it hard core. I’m starting (or rather starting again) Jillian Michaels’ Body Revolution Series. Fifteen DVD’s, 90 days, 30 minutes per day. I didn’t get very far last time, so given my track record, I should be in traction by Thursday. I’m going to mix that up with walking, and get myself back into gear!

This week I’m going to work hard! This week I’m going to sweat! I’m going to make myself uncomfortable…but in a really good way. As someone who loooooves staying in her comfort zone, I’m going to work hard to make sure that I don’t.

Here’s to uncomfortableness!! That may not even be a word, but I’m hereby invoking it as one.