Le Curling

As the temperatures continue to rise and the mountains of snow continue to melt, the last thing I'm thinking about is next winter's curling season.

I'm thinking about running outside without having to spend 10 minutes pulling on layer after layer of clothing.

I'm thinking about how long we have to wait until the golf course opens and how soon we can cycle outside again.

I'm thinking about spring half marathons and summer triathlons.

So I was a little taken aback when I received an email from one of my curling friends asking me if I would be interested in playing on their Tuesday night curling team next season.

I was a little more taken aback when I read that they wanted me to play vice (3rd).

Tempting...and flattering. A good combination for a recruiting committee.

I liked the idea but didn't like the fact that a) it would mean no Tuesday night CoreFit and b) I'd be up until almost midnight on the weeks when we played the late draw. (For those of you who know me, you know how utterly crazy that is). 

A few emails went back and forth and, in the end, I decided to accept the offer.

What sealed the deal you ask?

What could possibly convince me to skip a season of CoreFit and stay up late on a school night?

How about the fact that three our of four of us are French-Canadian?

Spend Tuesday evenings in the company of some very entertaining French-speaking curlers? Oh, and every so often play against Doug's Tuesday night team just for kicks?

Sold!

So even as I look forward to running in shorts, golfing with the sun on my shoulders and open-water swimming, a little part of me is already looking forward to the end of the warmer months and the start of a new curling season.


For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about when I go on and on about curling, here is a two-minute video that captures the game...and makes me laugh.

And for those of you who speak French or simply like the sound of this lovely language, here is the same video en français for your listening pleasure. 

A Canadian in Winter

The piles of snow at the end of our driveway are making it hard to see my car.

The state of the roads on my drive home every day dictate whether I will be running or cycling the following morning. My regular running days are no more. Now I run when I can and I cycle when I can't. 

Despite a near-obsession with hand cream, my hands are dry, my nails are brittle and my skin continues to beg for more more more moisture. 

I wake up every morning with a dry hoarse throat that cries out for a drink. 

Every Friday night I crawl into bed a few hours after our curling game, still half frozen from being out on the ice. 

Every pair of pants I own seems to have salt stains on it from once again leaning up against my filthy car. 

It's winter in Canada and everyone I talk to seems to be grumbling about it. 

I, on the other hand, think it's lovely. 

The bright white snow makes everything beautiful. 

The wind howling at night brings a strange sort of comfort. 

The cold makes me feel alive. 

The smell of smoke from wood stoves as I run by houses in the early morning hours reminds me of childhood camping trips. 

The extra daylight in the evenings brings with it the promise of spring even as it lights up the snow with a golden glow. 

It's a wonderful time of year to be a Canadian! 

That being said, this time next week I will be happily settled into our adventure in Florida. We will probably have played two games of golf, spotted more than a few gators in the water hazards and seen more orange groves than we can count. 

And I'm quite ok with that. 

Play the Course the Way You Find it

Sunday night we were watching the Canada Cup of Curling final. Team Jacobs versus Team McEwen. Team Jacobs was predicted to win but they were struggling a bit.

The announcers, bless them, were trying to figure out their problem.

Well, they didn't play yesterday so that could be it. They lost touch with the ice.

Plus the ice is different during the final game because there are fewer teams playing which affects the ice temperature.

And there are more people in the audience which heats up the building, also affecting the ice temperature.

Oh, and they are convinced that one of their rocks is a 'cutter' meaning that it doesn't rotate the way it should.

I turned to Doug and announced "curling is just like diabetes!".

"How so?" he asked.

"What worked yesterday probably won't work today and there are so many variables that can affect the game that it's impossible to be 'perfect' for more than a few moments."

"Diabetes is like golf too" countered Doug. "Every day the course is different. And the only way to cope is to play the course the way you find it. Not the way you remember it from the day before."

"Wow, I should write a blog about this!" I said.

"Well, fire up your laptop and get on it" replied Doug.

"Oh, and I have one more nugget of wisdom that you could use to wrap up your blog" he said with a grin.

"It's the same ice for both teams."

"Thanks baby" I said as I fired up my laptop.

November Fitness Wrap-Up

After October's fitness failure, November was a bit of a redemption month. As my energy came back after being sick for a few weeks I was able to add a bit more activity each week. One step at a time and, by the end of 30 days, I actually covered a fairly good distance.

CoreFit and Tabata
I attended 3 CoreFit classes and 3 Tabata classes in November. The only two I missed were last week when I was away for work. That a total of 6 hours of core, abs and legs. Did I mention that I love those classes?

Curling
We're back on the ice now for our regular Friday night curling battles. I don't usually report on curling but, the more I think about it, the more i think I should. It's a tough sport. The sweeping gets my cardio up the way the bike never does and it's great for the arms. It also works on leg strength as well as balance. I curled 4 regular games in November as well as three bonus ones thanks to the Lighthouse Bonspiel last weekend. That's a total of 10 1/2 hours on the ice. Did I mention that it's freezing out there?

Cycling
I managed to get on the trainer three times in November. Twice on Sundays and one nasty morning when it was just too windy, snowy and cold to run outside. I cycled 52.6km in total and pedalled for 2 1/2 hours overall.

Running
Running was much better this month. I completed 11 runs in November which is almost three runs per week (minus the snow day when I hopped on the bike). I ran a total of 11 1/2 hours and covered 102km. My longs runs were 10k, 12k, 14k and 15k. I'm clawing my way back to being able to run 1 1/2 hours straight without needing to spend the rest of the day on the couch. This past weekend's long run was the best I've felt in about 6 weeks on a long run. So yay for that.

I do have to admit that, without golf, my overall time spent moving is down significantly. I have also been neglecting the pool as you may have noticed. I started off missing because I was off, then I was sick. then I stayed off because I was exhausted. Now I'm not swimming because, well, because I don't really feel like it. I think I got a bit burned out from all the early mornings and the rigamarole that goes along with early-morning swims. So no swimming at the moment and I'm completely ok with that. I may go back this month for a few swims. I may not. I'm definitely back in the pool in January in order to prepare for the 2015 triathlon season. Between now and then - it will be what it will be and I'm not worried about whatever it is.

At the end of December I'll report back on the last month of 2014 as well as the grand total for the year. That's always fun. I wonder if I'll meet my goal of running 1000km in 2014? That would be fun.

The Revenge of the Lighthouse

Saturday, well, I have no idea what the weather was. I have no idea if the sun shone or if the wind blew.

We arrived at the curling club just before 8am and didn't leave again until almost 6pm.

In those 10 hours we were busy.

We decorated the club with tacky but fun decorations.

Who can resist a lobster towel, orca, puffin, Ariel display? 

We turned the curling windows into an aquarium. 

Complete with octopi and clown fish. 

We put gummy whales and fishes on all the tables next to the homemade lighthouses.

We revved up the East Coast tunes on the speaker system.

By 9am, the curlers had arrived. By 9:30am we were on the ice playing our first game.

Which we won. With enough points to put us in first place. Which was pretty exciting.

A quick pot of tea (or beer depending on the team) and a bowl of seafood chowder and we were back on for the second game.

The second game was a battle of the Friday night curling titans. Team Geddie versus Team Leahy is always a fun event. Back and forth it went. Good shots, bad shots and miracle shots which, at the end of the day, weren't enough to win. We dropped from first to 6th. Sad.

Thankfully, it was time for lunch. Oysters, lobster penne, caesar salad with calamari and a glass of red wine does wonders for the pride of a team.

Game three was, well, there are no words. How would YOU describe a 6-end game that ended 12-1 for the other team. By the end all we could do was laugh and try hail mary shots in the hopes that they might save us. Our goal was to keep them from getting the maximum points on the board: 15. We achieved that if nothing else.

We dropped down to the bottom half of the standings and skulked off the ice with our tails between our legs.

I tried to redeem us in the closest to the rock challenge. While everyone agreed that I made the best fitness shot of the day, it wasn't enough to win us that honour either.

The day was fun and the feedback from the teams was extremely positive. It was fun to organize and even more fun to be a part of. We'll be back next year - without the pressure to organize the day.

Hurry hard!

The Lighthouse

Anyone remember this picture?

It's from this time last year.

Doug and I, with our two good friends, joined our first ever Friday night Geddie team curling bonspiel. It was called The Lighthouse Bonspiel and there was a wonderful East Coast feel to it.

Great Big Sea music playing on the ice.

Oysters between games.

Clam chowder and seafood pasta for lunch...

...and a very nice Skip I happen to have a wee crush on. 

Oh, and for our first bonspiel, we didn't do too badly. We ended up coming home with the trophy thanks to some fabulous playing by our team plus a bit of luck of the draw in terms of who played whom. There was also a bit of luck of the draw period (which is actually a rather fun curling joke if you know the lingo).

As they handed us the trophy we found out that the winning team is also responsible for working with the club to plan the next year's event.

Which just happens to be tomorrow.

Don't you worry though. We're all set to go.

We have our cutout sea creatures ready to be pasted to windows and walls.  Including a rather large octopus and some smiling clams.

We have a stuffed Ariel mermaid who will sit on the scoring table to keep us company. She'll get to talk to the lobsters on the beach towel she'll be lounging on while we're out playing on the ice.

We have lighthouse centrepieces and one of those tacky cardboard thingies you can put your face in and have your photo taken looking like Ariel or King Triton depending on your preference.

I'm not sure even I have enough Irish luck to pull off another win but one never knows which way the rocks will curl.

Stay tuned for Monday's report: The Revenge of the Lighthouse.

(Picture Jaws only with less teeth and a light on top that spins.)  

October Wrap Up

It's been November for three days already. Before October fades too quickly from my memory, I figure I had better fess up report on how the month was fitness-wise.

What is the opposite of stellar? Whatever word pops into mind is probably a good one for describing how the month went.

Out of 31 days, I only worked out on 12 of them. The other 19 days I did absolutely nothing. At least nothing particularly physical.

I did not swim once.

I did not cycle once (inside or outside)

I ran 6 times for a total of 34 kilometres. It took me 3 hours and 50 minutes.

I was able to squeeze in 12 hours of golf, walking a total of 30km.

I did 2 CoreFit classes and 3 Tabata ones. So five hours of weights and core workouts.

I could blame it on my cold and my never-ending cough.

I could complain about the struggle to regain the fitness level I had back in September when I was running 20k sans problème.

Instead, I'll look at it as a much-needed opportunity to rest my body a bit after a summer of tough workouts.

We're three days into November and I've already got a run in and a hill workout on my bike (indoors).

Looks like the rest period is slowly coming to an end.

Changing of the Guard

The golf season is quickly coming to a close. If you had told me last year how sad that would make me, I would not have believed you. And yet here I am writing about how sad that makes me.

The days are getting shorter which means that it's harder to squeeze even 9 holes in after work before it's too dark to see the ball. The weather is getting rainier which means that, more often than not, the times that I can golf it's raining which means I can't. The temperature is dropping which means that, soon, it will be too darn cold.

On Thanksgiving monday (Canadian Thanksgiving that is) we have to take our golf bags home for the winter. They are stored at the golf club all summer but all that changes next Monday. The clubs go back to their homes, the storage area is scrubbed clean and then our ice maker starts transforming the room for curling season. The air condensers will be turned on the floor that held all the golf bags and carts will be flooded with water and, within two weeks, we will be sliding across it in our curling shoes - trying to remember how not to fall.

Running is one of the sports that I get to do in all seasons. Swimming is too thanks to the miracle of indoor pools. Cycling moves inside to the trainer in the colder months but it's still possible to bend those crank arms when the wind is howling in February. But golf doesn't happen during the Canadian winter and curling doesn't happen during the Canadian summer.

It's almost time for the changing of the guard.

Seasonal Ambitions

To everything there is a season. Except when there isn't. 

Curling season ended on Friday night. That's it now until some time in late October. 

Which means that golf season is starting. 

Some years there is a bit of overlap. In fact last year by mid-March, many curlers were squeezing in a round of golf before their curling games on Friday nights. It was a little surreal. This year, because of the cold, the golf season is still a few weeks off. 

Once it starts though - watch out!

When the weather starts to turn cold in the fall, my curling friends and I start getting excited to get back on the ice. We sign up for bonspiels, we show up on Sunday mornings to practice, we love it! 

A few weeks before the end of March, when the season is wrapping up, we start showing up less than ten minutes before we need to be on the ice. We still have fun when we're there but we also start talking about how much we are looking forward to having Friday evenings free. The curling season is over and so is our excitement for it. 

We're already dreaming about golf. 

And golf is the best thing ever...until about October. That's when I start looking forward to taking a break from the golf course and getting back on the curling ice. 

It got me thinking about the other activities I do. The ones I do all year-round. When it comes to swimming, cycling and running, there really isn't a season. 

Sure, there is an indoor cycling season and an outdoor one. An indoor swimming season and an outdoor one. But the activity itself never stops. Just where I do it changes. 

How come I don't get tired of those activities the way I do with curling or golf? Is it precisely because there is no 'season' and I can't afford to get tired of them? Do I approach seasonal sports differently because there is a 'finish line' of sorts? Is it all in my head and, if curling went year-round, I would enjoy it year round? 

To everything there is a season. Except when there isn't one. 

Speaking of golf, how fun is this golf skort? A lovely little nod to the Irish half of my heritage don't you think? 

Friday Fragments

Sometimes it just makes sense to end a week with a few bullet points.

• Doug asked me to spare for him on his Tuesday night curling team. A team made up of four pretty talented, experienced, men. They were playing against a team of four pretty talented, experienced, men. I showed up with my purple broom, purple vest, scarf and perky ponytail and announced that I was "Doug" for the evening. I held my own when it came to throwing and swept my heart out for them. In fact I was sweeping so hard at one point that my lip balm went flying out of my pocket and skidded down the ice. "Is that your lipstick?" one of the gentleman asked. No, that's my lip balm was my response as I stuffed it back into my pocket. I don't think they knew what to make of me but we did end up having fun. And, while we didn't win, we came darn close and held our own until the end. And, for the record, I was recruited to spare for the other team in a few weeks. 
• On Wednesday morning we had a pretty busy workout at the pool. From the minute we arrived we were given one command after another (pull 400m, swim 10x10, do this, do that). About fifteen minutes before the end of the workout, as I worked my way through 30x50m, I started adding it all up. OMIGOD I thought, she's trying to get us to do 4000m in 90 minutes. We didn't quite make it due to lack of time but I managed to do 3650m before calling it a day. That's a pretty big jump from our usual 3000m. "Today was a distance set" she said as we left. No kidding.
• I have had my new bangs now for two weeks. During those two weeks I have had several people ask what was 'different' about me. I answered them all with 'I used to be blonde' and their response was 'oh, ok, that must be it'. These are people I have worked with for years. For the record, I have never had anything other than very dark hair. I was also supposed to present at a meeting the other day but the chair didn't think I had arrived yet. I had to waive to get her attention and she was shocked that it was me. Apparently I look a little different now. 
• Oh, and I may have been asked to be the keynote speaker at a conference in April. It's a conference put on by Animas and it is geared to diabetes educators, nurses, dieticians, pharmacists etc. They want me to kick things off by telling my story and talking about how I use diabetes as a motivation to do all sorts of things. I'm so honoured that they asked and so excited to do it. Remember back two weeks ago when I listed my goals for 2014? One of them was to do more diabetes presentations. Looks like I'm well on my way.

Seeing the Forest for the Trees

We spent a good part of our weekend in a small little town called Forest.

Population: 3500

Tim Hortons: 1

Churches: 5

Curling clubs: 1

Doug and I made the two-hour drive early Saturday morning. We arrived and checked in to the only hotel in town. The hotel, and the rest of the town for that matter, were overflowing with curlers from all over the region. Eight men's teams and eight women's teams were in town. Each team had won their zone and were in Forest to try their hand at winning the Regional Championships.

Doug's team played their first game at 12:30pm on Saturday. We got there early and I staked my claim on the perfect chair, right in front of the glass, facing sheet four. There was one empty seat beside me and I wondered who would end up being my watching buddy since I was the only 'fan' from the St. Catharines team. As I watched Doug and his team do their warm-up practice routine, a familiar face appeared. Doug's friend John had made the trip to cheer them on. He snatched the seat beside me and we kept each other company during the game - mostly me asking questions and John answering them.

A sign I spotted pinned to the wall that captures the curling world perfectly. While the team plays their heart out on the ice, the folks behind the glass have animated discussions after each shot about what they should have done. 

The Forest Curling Club. Quite a nice facility full of history. Established in 1884. 

Doug and Larry sweeping their hearts out to drag their red rock past the blue guard. 

Doug throwing his first rock in the second end. 

Hurry!! Hard!!!

Doug holding the broom for the skip. Based on where the broom is, I'm going to guess he's trying for a takeout on that blue rock. 

Another action shot. 

As I said, the game went back and forth. 

For those of you who can't read a curling scoreboard: 

Doug's team took one in the first end. 

Lost one in the second end. 

Took two in the third. 

Lost three in the fourth. 

Took one in the fifth. 

Lost one in the sixth. 

Took one in the seventh. 

They started the eighth and final end at a disadvantage. The score was 6:5 for the other team and the other team had the hammer. Also known as the last rock. 

Doug's team lost. 

Their next game was at 8pm and winning had just become a necessity because teams were out as soon as they lost two games. 

The second game was one of misfortune, valiant fights and more misfortune. The opponents took a four-point end early in the game. Never a good sign. Doug's team fought back point by point and they were back in competition by the fifth end with a score of 4:3. Unfortunately, the opponents then took another four-point end. 

Fighting back from one bad end is possible. Two of them? Not an easy feat. 

They lost. And, as quickly as their Regional Championship adventure began, it ended. 

It's hard to stand far enough back from a disappointing day of curling to see the amount of talent it took to get to that point. Hopefully, with a bit of distance, the St. Catharines Masters Zone Champions will see the Forest for what it was. A chance to play competitive curling, rub elbows with some talented people, learn a few things, and come back stronger next year.

The Lighthouse

On Saturday, our Friday night curling team played in our very first ever omigod what are we doing bonspiel. Doug, our skip, has been curling for years. The rest of us are in our third season and still getting the hang of things.

It was the annual Lighthouse Bonspiel held at our local club. A bonspiel that, until a few years ago, was called the Oyster Bonspiel and players enjoyed free oysters and a seafood buffet between games. We still had oysters and some seafood but the name was changed and the menu expanded to appeal to people who weren't big fans of fishy things. The East Coast theme still held and some people showed up dressed for the occasion.

The bonspiel involved 3 six-end games. Never having played in an event like this, I didn't even set any goals. I just wanted to play as well as I could and not let my team down.

I wore my lucky socks and my lucky Scottish plaid sous-vêtements. We walked into the club the hear the opening notes of one of the only songs that can make this Irish lassie cry: Cockles and Mussels. I hummed along and thought about my family, my little sis who loves the song, my little nephew who had it sung to him by his mom. When it ended and another East Coast ditty began, I knew it was going to be a fun day.

Here's how it all shook down.

For the first game we were paired randomly against a team I had never seen before. Which meant I had no idea how they played. The first few ends were one-point ends but then we took a few points in one end and the game quickly turned. We finished by winning it easily 9:3.

We handed in our score card. We get points for winning the game, points for each end we won and points for each point we took. Our final tally was 16.25.

We found ourselves, surprisingly, in second place, behind a team that took 17.

Break time! Oysters, lemon juice, horseradish and tea. Best! 

For the second game, they paired the top two teams, then the next two and so on. So we were up against the lead team with 17 points. We knew them from our Friday night games and knew they were good. 

The first few ends were back and forth, one point at a time. Then we took 3. Then two. And we won the game with a score of 9:3 again which gave us another 16.25 points. 

We were now in first place with 32.50 points. The second place team had 29.25 points and we were paired against them in the final game. If we won that game, we'd win the event hands down. If we lost, we would fall down to third or worse. If we tied it, we'd have a chance for first depending on how the third place team did. 

First end: we took one

Second end: they took one

Third end: we took one

Fourth end: they took one

Fifth end: they took two

Sixth end, we had to get two to tie. With two hail mary shots from our fabulous skip, we did it. Two points - and a tie. 

We headed back in for a few more snacks while we waited for the other teams to finish and then waited some more while they tallied the scores 

Might as well have a few more while we're waiting...

The final scores. For those of you who don't know - we were Team Geddie.

Winners of the 2013 Lighthouse Bonspiel!!

When they announced our team and handed us our trophy we were pretty proud of ourselves. Then they announced that the vice of the winning team is responsible for organizing the 2014 event. 

Guess which position I played? 

Oh yes my friends. It looks like I'll be organizing my first bonspiel next year. 

Zone Championships

Last weekend I curled on Friday night like I always do in the winter months.

I then spent a good chunk of Saturday as well as Sunday morning at the curling club. Sitting behind the glass, with my heart in my throat and my hands over my mouth for most of it.

It's stressful watching the man I love compete in a curling tournament - when every game seemed to come down to the last rock in the last end and where millimetres really do make all the difference.

Doug curls a few nights per week and has been doing so for years. He's pretty darn good. This season, he joined forces with three other men to create a Masters team. Their goal was to compete in the Masters Zone Play Down. If they win, they go to the Regionals and then, if they win again, they go to the Provincials.

So last weekend I watched Doug in the Zone championship. There were 8 teams, three from his club and 5 from other clubs in our area.

The first game was on Saturday morning. I got up early to get my long run in and got to the club on time to see the end of the game. It didn't end well and Doug's team lost. That meant that they could not afford to lose again. Another loss and they were out.

The second game was Saturday evening so we ran a few errands, had an early dinner and headed back over. This time I watched every rock in every end. Doug's team dominated for the first few ends but the other team rallied and the last few ends went back and forth as they fought for points. It was nerve-wracking. The last rock in the last end clinched it and Doug's team won!

Sunday morning, we were back at the club before 9am for the final deciding game.

The first end, the other team scored two points.
The second end, Doug's team nabbed three.
The third end, the other team got one point to tie it all up again.
The fourth end, they took two more points to take the lead.
The fifth end, they took one more and were leading by three.
(This is the point where I texted my Irish mother and asked her to send some good luck leprechauns)
In the sixth end, Doug's team took three points to tie it up again.
In the seventh end, they took one more to take the lead.
In the eighth and final end, they got one more point to win!

Looks like we're off to the bustling metropolis of Forest, Ontario for the Regional Championships in a few weeks.

After that, if the leprechauns continue to do their jobs, we're going to Gravenhurst in January for the provincials.

I'm guessing the Olympics are the next stop.

Moving from Advanced Beginner to Beginning Intermediate Feels Like Both a Step Up and a Step Down.

Three and a half years ago, Doug brought me to the curling club one Sunday afternoon and taught me how to walk and slide on the ice. How to aim for the broom. The difference between an in-turn and an out-turn and how to come out of the hack without falling on my face.

Or my behind.

It was humbling. It was awkward. It was, as everyone says, way harder than it looked on television.

We joined the Friday night league with two other running friends and played the second half of the season.

The next year we joined again and played for the entire six months.

The following year we recruited four more running friends and formed two teams and we've played together for two seasons in those teams.

I am now two weeks into my fourth full season of curling.

On Sunday morning, Doug and I went to the curling club to take part in a three-hour intermediate curling lesson. It was put on by members of the Brock curling team and led by the coach of the women's team.

We reviewed the fundamentals and went through some exercises to help improve our delivery, our balance and our aim. They broke the delivery down into small steps and we practiced each one - trying to do what we were told without collapsing in a heap.

They even put two rows of small pylons on the ice and had us aim so that we slid between them without hitting them. Again, easier said than done

After that session we headed back into the lounge for some lessons on strategy and tactics. I held my own for a good 45 seconds and then felt my knowledge fail. When I started out I learned how to curl and how to throw my rocks where I was told to throw them. I learned how the game was played but I never really learned the strategy of the game. I understand why one would want to throw a take out or draw to the button but never realized the layers of thinking that go into calling every shot.

It was confusing and fascinating. I quickly realized that I am glad I am not a skip but also quickly realized that I want to learn more.

Like any sport I've ever done, the first step is to just learn how to do it. Learn how to run for five minutes without dying. Learn how to swim across the pool a few times without drowning. Learn how to actually hit the damn golf ball.

Once you can run for 30 minutes or swim a kilometre, or hit a golf ball more often than you miss it, you realize that all you've managed to do to that point is go from absolute beginner to beginner plus one.

Now you have to learn how to run well. Learn how to improve your swimming form. Learn how to actually aim the golf ball where you want it to go.

I've gone from absolute beginner in curling to advanced beginner. I have now moved from advanced beginner (near the top of the heap) to absolute intermediate (bottom of a new heap).

The intermediate heap, from what I can tell, looks a lot more difficult to climb.

Thankfully it also looks a lot more interesting.

November 1st - For Better and For Worse

November 1st. It's always an important day in my world.

It's the day when all the Hallowe'en candy is marked down and I join the other sale-happy shoppers at 7:30am at Wal-Mart. I stock up on perfectly sized bags of emergency carbs that come in the form of sour patch kids and sour cherries.

It's also, ironically, my diabetes anniversary. (And no, I didn't get diabetes from eating too much candy thank you very much) Today marks my 11th year living with the big D and, as always, I'm surprised at how much time has passed, slightly annoyed when I think of all the time, energy and money that this crazy disease takes up, and eternally grateful for all the things that it has helped me to do. All the people I have met. All the changes I have made in my life. All the adventures.

Today is a bittersweet kinda day where I let myself feel sad for just a little bit and then do my best to celebrate the fact that I'm still here, still strong, still healthy, and still fighting the good fight.

November 1st, 2013 is an even bigger day than usual. Two more things are happening today to help make my day all that much brighter.

First of all - guess what starts tonight?

That's right folks. Another curling season is about to begin. 

Even more exciting that dusting off my broom and curling shoes is that today is the day that an article I wrote is being released - internationally. You may remember a few months back that Dave Hingsburger over at Rolling Around in my Head asked me to write an article about how to support someone with a developmental disability who has diabetes. Well, today is the day that the article arrives in inboxes around the world. It's exciting to think that perhaps, because of what I've written, someone takes the time to ask the right questions and say the right things. It's exciting to think that a few more people will offer support instead of judgement. That they will take the time to check out the DOC and help people connect with others who truly get it. It's exciting to think I might make a difference. 

I can't put the article up on my blog yet but will be able to in a few weeks. Thank you to everyone who sent me suggestions of things to include. 

So yes, today is a big day in my world. And yet, as is often the case, I celebrate it in a small way. With at early morning swim because I can. With friends at the curling rink. Laughing over snacks and drinks. Curled up in bed with the man I love. Grateful, as always, to have been given another year. 

Diversity

Not really that long ago, I was a runner.

Not that there is anything wrong with being a runner but running was the only activity I did.

That meant that a typical weekend looked something like this:

Friday - day off to prepare for my Saturday morning long run
Saturday - long run
Sunday - day off to recover from my Saturday morning long run

Then I got a bike and weekends started looking like this:

Friday - day off to prepare for my Saturday morning long run
Saturday - long run
Sunday - bike ride to cross train and recover from my Saturday morning long run

Then I started curling. Then swimming. Now golf.

Now there is no longer such thing as a day off. Not really.

Last weekend looked like this:

Friday - 1.9k swim race
Saturday - 12k run in the morning followed by afternoon trip to the driving range
Sunday - bike ride

Soon enough, my golf clubs will be traded in for my curling broom. My open water Friday swims will be back in the pool. My outdoor bike rides will be traded in for sessions on my trainer. Which is totally fine with me because it's not a bad thing - just a different thing.

Diversity, as I seem to discover over and over again, is really good for me.

It allows me to do something physical every day without getting injured or burned out.

It allows my entire body to benefit without putting too much strain on any one part.

It keeps my motivation high because there just isn't time to get bored with anything.

I am still a runner.

But I am no longer a runner.

I'm a multisport athlete.

I wish my younger, non-athletic, embarrassed to even try sports self had known that there were sports she'd actually like. In fact, sports she was kinda good at.

It would have made all the difference during those awful gym classes that turned me off of anything physical until I was in my late 20s.

I'm so happy I decided to try being a runner five years ago.

I would never have believed where it would take me.

Five Fingers = One Hand

When I was a little kid, I really didn't like sports. I like being outside and going for walks and bike rides down the canal but I really did not enjoy exercise. I hated gym and often lied and pretended I forgot my gym shoes so that I could be the scorekeeper. I did try soccer and our team ended up winning the gold medal but it was no thanks to me.

In high school, I still really didn't like sports. I tried basketball and hated it (sorry Scott!). I tried volleyball and hated it. I loathed gym and did what I could to get out of it. I hate to say this but, if I had type 1 diabetes in high school I probably would have used that as a  convenient excuse (which would only have served to perpetuate the misconceptions of T1 I know but, still, I would have used it).

In university I went to the gym with my friends and learned how to lift weights and do aerobics. I didn't love it but it probably kept the frosh fifteen down to the frosh ten in terms of weight gain so I'm grateful for that.

Somewhere along the line, years into adulthood, something clicked and I discovered an activity that I liked and then loved. Running. I was as surprised as anyone by how much I enjoyed it.

Then a year later I found cycling which I like a lot and think I could learn to love without too much trouble.

The next thing I discovered was curling and I quickly fell in love with that too. Curling was the most surprising for me because it is a team sport which I abhor. I had too many bad childhood experiences with team sports and being the last picked and the one most likely to cause us to lose the game. I feel pressure the minute my performance impacts a team result and I usually fall apart pretty quickly. For some reason curling didn't seem to bring out the same unresolved childhood sports trauma issues and I just had fun.

Last year I added swimming to the list of athletic pursuits that I love, bringing the total number of activities I do to four.

And last week I tried golf. I had a golf lesson on Friday which went surprisingly well. On Saturday I asked Doug to take me golfing and we headed to a 9-hole course where all the holes were par 3. I'm sure there is a technical name for this kind of course but I think of it as the baby steps course. It was my first game and, with only one lesson under my belt, I set a pretty reasonable goal of trying to play a 63. That would allow me 7 shots per hole. I ended up playing a 61 and even got a 4 and a 5. Pretty horrible by most standards but fine by mine.

As we drove home in the setting sun I counted on my hand.

Omigod, I now do five different sports: run, bike, curl, swim and golf.

One more and I'll have to add my other hand when I'm counting them.

"That's just crazy" said my eight-year old self. "Good for you."

Friday's Run

Something crazy happened on Friday.

The day started off in its typical fashion. I woke up at 4:50am and was in the pool by 5:30. During my hour and a half in the pool I swam a 1000m warmup, 900m of pulling and then we were tied up to stretch cords for another tough workout. My favourite kind of tough workout by the way. At the end of it all, when we were sufficiently exhausted, we had to swim two 100m sprints and then four 50m sprints. Christine likes to see how fast we can go after we get off the stretch cords.  I do too because that's always when I clock my best times.

I set a new 100m record (for myself anyway) of 1:35. I also managed to swim 50m in 43 seconds which is not too shabby either.

All in all, it was a fun and exhausting workout.

Normally, Doug and I curl on Friday nights. Last Friday, there was a bonspiel at the club so we couldn't play. (well actually that's only partly true. Doug played in the bonspiel. I did not). The fact that I couldn't curl on Friday night worked out well because I was planning on spending the entire day on Saturday in Toronto with my little sis. That left Friday after work free for me to squeeze in my 16k long run.

So I swam hard in the morning, worked for 6 hours, and then ran 16k.

I have not run in the afternoon or evening in over a year. My body likes consistency so morning runs are my new normal.  I also don't normally exercise twice in one day. I was going to have to take a bit of a wild guess on my diabetes management.

We only work until 2pm on Fridays so I ate lunch at 11 rather than 12. That gave my conservative lunch bolus more time to leave my system. By 2:30pm, when I was dressed and ready to start my run, my BG was 10.0 and I had 0.3 units on board. I had a gel and headed out.

The first thing I noticed is that I had way more energy that I typically do in the mornings. There was no easy 3k warmup - I headed down the street practically sprinting. I kept trying to hold back because 16k is a long way AND I had already worked out that day. My body and I finally reached an agreement to hover around 6 minutes per kilometre - faster than my brain wanted but slower than my body wanted to go. I loped along for 10k at that pace and still felt strong.

At 11k, the world kinda tilted for a second and I knew my blood sugar was dropping. I stopped, took a drink of NUUN, ate a package of fruit chews and headed off again. That's about when I turned a corner and found myself running directly into a cold headwind for two kilometres. I slogged my way through at a more modest pace but as my blood sugar climbed, my legs sped up again. Before I knew it I was back to 6:00 minute kilometres again.

I carried on for the last few kilometres and, 500m from home, the word tilted again. I ran it in, opened the door and headed straight for my glucometer. I was 3.2. Chocolate milk saved the day.

Obviously I need more food during afternoon runs than I do in the morning. Or a lower basal rate.

My best 16k run to this point was 1:40:something. Friday, I ran a 1:37:41. Despite two lows, a headwind and a hard swim workout only a few hours earlier.

Crazy!

Too bad it wasn't race day. I would have finished in under 2:15:00 at that pace. Something I have NEVER been able to do....yet.

Counting Down

I have five more swims until I go away.

Five more runs too.

Two more curling games.

Eight more days of work.

Thirteen more sleeps.

Funny how each of the things that I count down make me look at the passing days differently.

Five more swims makes me feel kinda worried that I'll lose some of my newfound speed in the pool after two weeks off. I will be swimming a few times in Tel Aviv with my sister but I doubt she is going to stand at the side of the pool yelling at me to swim faster and harder. We're going to be doing the leisurely swim thing followed by a stroll on the beach.

Five more runs means that I'm almost at race day which makes me feel excited and nauseated all at the same time. I've trained in Canadian winter temperatures for the past three months. The weather in Tel Aviv this week is in the 20s every day and hits 28 degrees on Sunday. I'm trading in my toque (hi Scott!), mitts, two long-sleeved shirts, pants and warm socks for shorts, a tank top and a hat. I hope I remember how to run in the heat. Better pack some extra electrolytes!

Two more curling games makes me sad. There are still a few weeks left in the season but, once I leave, that's it for me until next Fall. It's been a great season and I've really enjoyed curling two nights a week.  I've learned so much and gotten so much better on the ice. I'm going to miss my new Monday night teammates and I'm going to miss seeing my Friday night buddies on such a regular basis.

Eight more days of work makes me feel mildly panicked. It's shaping up to be a busy year at work and the next few months is particularly busy. Missing work for 12 days takes a lot of preparation and I'll be hitting the ground running from the moment I get back - jet lag or no jet lag. Did I mention that I have a really hard time recovering from jet lag?

Thirteen more sleeps makes me feel a little homesick..and lonely for Doug. I'm doing this trip solo and we haven't been apart this long since we've been together. Over four years now. I know I'm going to have a fabulous adventure and I'm excited to go but there will be an empty space beside me where he should be standing, taking pictures and making me laugh.

It also makes me think that I want to see if I can jam my pillow into my suitcase. Having a really thin pillow can make or break it for me and is totally worth sacrificing space in the suitcase so I can sleep well for two weeks.

Scotties = Sore Feet

The Scotties Tournament of Hearts is on this week.

Translation: the women's national curling competition is on this week. The top team from each province are playing each other all week, culminating in a playdown and national champion this coming weekend.

We watched a lot of curling on Saturday and Sunday morning which inspired me to head to the curling club on Sunday to practice.

I wanted to practice my ability to hit the broom (ie. my aim) and my ability to maintain control and balance when throwing faster rocks. Doug came along as my personal coach.

Let me back up a bit and explain curling shoes. Curling shoes are pretty neat and very functional but they are not particularly sexy.

The right shoe has a rubber bottom and sticks fairly well to the ice. The left shoe has a smooth plastic bottom and is extremely slippery. When throwing a rock, I slide on my left foot. When I'm not throwing, I put a rubber gripper over the bottom of my shoe which allows me to walk on the ice without falling arse over teakettle. 

My sexy pink gripper

When we play a curling game, each player throws two rocks per end. So for every 8 rocks our team throws, I throw two. 

I have very weak arches. When I walk around, it's not a big deal. When I have my gripper off for long periods of time, and am sliding on the ice, it can become problematic and quite painful. The problem is that I have to keep my slippery foot on the ice at all time. Instead of walking, I use my right foot to propel myself forward on my slippery left foot. All my weight is on my left foot and it doesn't get a break. 

During my practice session I threw 40 rocks. In a regular game I throw 16 rocks with lots of waking breaks in between. 

My feet were aching in no time. I kept having to take breaks and walk around to let my exhausted arches bounce back to a semblance of their preferred position before stepping back on the ice and flattening them out again. 

I called it a day after 40 rocks. My aim had improved, my control was better and I was apparently looking better when I threw. When I pulled off my shoe and pressed my thumb into my aching arches, they released with a sigh of relief. 

Perhaps a marathon curling practice the day after running 22k was not the best idea. 

Those damn Scotties ladies - they look so good and they play so well - I just want to be like them! 

Rachel Homan - skip of the Ontario team - looking far more elegant than I do in her release. Bet her arches don't hurt either.