Today I met one of my heroes.
He doesn't run, cycle, have diabetes or take amazing photographs (that I know of).
He drinks tea, not coffee. He likes movies and dogs. He thinks I look a lot like a girl named Emily.
His name is Dave Hingsburger and he fights for the little guy.
More importantly - he teaches them how to fight for themselves.
Dave teaches people to say no. Actually, he teaches them to say NO!! No to abuse. No to discrimination. No to people telling them how to feel or act.
Dave and his partner Joe came to our agency today. They came to teach a class on abuse to adults with a developmental disability. Because people with developmental disabilities are more likely to be abused than any other population.
And the majority of this abuse is done by staff who are supposedly there to support them.
Think about that for a moment and let the horror of it sink in.
So Dave and Joe came to our agency today to teach people that they have a voice. A right to say no. And a responsibility to speak up so that abuse stops.
Their two hour class was informative, hilarious and empowering. I was there to learn how to teach the material but my role was to sit quietly, not offer any answers and not help anyone.
Within minutes, Dave had built a sense of trust in the room. He empowered people to speak up, help their peers, share their feelings and stand up for themselves. It was extremely moving to watch. People with whom I work with every day surprised me. Over and over. Quiet people found their voice and said no. People who are easily upset or stressed participated happily in role plays. People who can't read offered to stand in front of the group and read - with help from a peer.
Today was every bit the day that I hoped it would be.
Dave and Joe were every bit as charming, entertaining, approachable and passionate as I hoped they would be.
The people who took the class were every bit as engaged, respectful and eager to learn as I hoped they might be.
And the staff left the session every bit as inspired as I hoped they would be.
It's nice when you set high standards for everyone and they exceed them by a mile.
Thank you Dave. Thank you Joe. You have reminded this girl why she does what she does. I hope we can carry the torch that has been passed to us with the care and respect it deserves.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
iDream of iPads
Anyone know of a little company called Apple?
They make neat little gadgets that play music and sexy-looking computers and laptops.
You may have heard of them.
My family and I have been fans of Apple since their first computer came out and, other than my computer at work *sigh* my life is 100% Mac. The Mac vs PC debate does not need to happen in our house. There are three laptops, one desktop, two phones and several mp3 players that are all sporting the ubiquitous apple logo on them. Oh and an AppleTV just to round things out in the entertainment department.
If Apple made insulin pumps, I would use theirs without question. It would be stylish, have fabulous features, be absolutely intuitive and probably sing me to sleep if I wanted.
I have a few loves in my life. Apple products are one of them.
Reading is another.
I learned how to read before they taught us in school and never looked back. I devour books and share the best ones with friends. I've been accused of peddling books the way some people deal heroin. At one point, three ladies with whom I shared an office were all reading the same book series at the same time and each one of them came in every morning with their update. Having already read the books, I loved hearing their reactions to the latest plot twist - knowing that an even crazier one was lurking in the next chapter.
For me, reading is both a solitary and a group activity. Holding a book is a very tactile experience. I love watching my books get more and more worn as they exchange hands. I love a bookshelf overloaded with memories and I love rereading the best of the best.
So here's the problem. I'm feeling a greater and greater pull to merge my two loves: Apple and reading.
The reason that I am agonizing? the iPad.
The thought of reading the newspaper or my favourite blogs on an iPad is quite appealing. Yet, the thought of reading a book on an iPad still feels very aversive to me.
I understand the appeal, I really do. It's portable - I can bring a huge collection of books on vacation and never exceed the weight restriction on the plane. It's instant. I decide I want to read a book and it's on the iPad in seconds. It's environmentally friendly - no trees will be cut down to support my habit.
But I like holding my books. I like the weight of them on my chest when I read in bed. I like watching the bookmark migrate a little more each day. I like how pretty books can be. I love lending them to friends and having them returned covered in coffee stains and apologies. Books are meant to be read, shared and treasured.
*sigh*
The sad thing is that I know how this will turn out. I know what will win out in the end. I will be reading books on an iPad.
I think I'm just sad because it feels like the end of an era. It was no big deal to go from cassettes to CDs and an even smaller deal to go from CD walkmen to iPods. But it felt like the end of something important when we went from records to cassettes.
That's how I feel now. Maybe because books have been the norm for my entire life and, in a world that changes by the minute, that's a very very long time. Maybe because I will agonize until I finally get an iPad and then, in a few years, there will be something to replace that. I feels like I will be trading in a faithful friend for the gadget of the moment.
Let me just get through the pile of books by the bed first and then I'll decide...
Of course by then it will be my birthday and I will probably get a few books as gifts...
...and then it's Christmas...
*sigh*
They make neat little gadgets that play music and sexy-looking computers and laptops.
You may have heard of them.
My family and I have been fans of Apple since their first computer came out and, other than my computer at work *sigh* my life is 100% Mac. The Mac vs PC debate does not need to happen in our house. There are three laptops, one desktop, two phones and several mp3 players that are all sporting the ubiquitous apple logo on them. Oh and an AppleTV just to round things out in the entertainment department.
If Apple made insulin pumps, I would use theirs without question. It would be stylish, have fabulous features, be absolutely intuitive and probably sing me to sleep if I wanted.
I have a few loves in my life. Apple products are one of them.
Reading is another.
I learned how to read before they taught us in school and never looked back. I devour books and share the best ones with friends. I've been accused of peddling books the way some people deal heroin. At one point, three ladies with whom I shared an office were all reading the same book series at the same time and each one of them came in every morning with their update. Having already read the books, I loved hearing their reactions to the latest plot twist - knowing that an even crazier one was lurking in the next chapter.
For me, reading is both a solitary and a group activity. Holding a book is a very tactile experience. I love watching my books get more and more worn as they exchange hands. I love a bookshelf overloaded with memories and I love rereading the best of the best.
So here's the problem. I'm feeling a greater and greater pull to merge my two loves: Apple and reading.
The reason that I am agonizing? the iPad.
The thought of reading the newspaper or my favourite blogs on an iPad is quite appealing. Yet, the thought of reading a book on an iPad still feels very aversive to me.
I understand the appeal, I really do. It's portable - I can bring a huge collection of books on vacation and never exceed the weight restriction on the plane. It's instant. I decide I want to read a book and it's on the iPad in seconds. It's environmentally friendly - no trees will be cut down to support my habit.
But I like holding my books. I like the weight of them on my chest when I read in bed. I like watching the bookmark migrate a little more each day. I like how pretty books can be. I love lending them to friends and having them returned covered in coffee stains and apologies. Books are meant to be read, shared and treasured.
*sigh*
The sad thing is that I know how this will turn out. I know what will win out in the end. I will be reading books on an iPad.
I think I'm just sad because it feels like the end of an era. It was no big deal to go from cassettes to CDs and an even smaller deal to go from CD walkmen to iPods. But it felt like the end of something important when we went from records to cassettes.
That's how I feel now. Maybe because books have been the norm for my entire life and, in a world that changes by the minute, that's a very very long time. Maybe because I will agonize until I finally get an iPad and then, in a few years, there will be something to replace that. I feels like I will be trading in a faithful friend for the gadget of the moment.
Let me just get through the pile of books by the bed first and then I'll decide...
Of course by then it will be my birthday and I will probably get a few books as gifts...
...and then it's Christmas...
*sigh*
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The Kitten and the Crow
I was reading Oh She Glows, one of my favourite food blogs this morning, and Angela had a video posted. It was filmed a long time ago and Allan Thicke (the dad from Growing Pains) narrates. The story is about a wee kitten who was rescued by a kindly crow and the friendship that developed between them. If you have seven minutes, it's worth a watch.
The story has been rattling around in my head all morning. Partly because the kitten is just so damn cute and the scenes of the two animals interracting are wonderful. But mostly because it's such an unusual relationship. Sworn enemies that, for whatever reason, don't see or don't care about their differences. And they sure as hell don't care about what their friends might say as they stroll down the street together, tail in wing.
Perhaps they never learned that cats eat birds.
Or that birds should be really really afraid of cats.
I'm currently in the middle of a really good book called The Help. It's set in Mississipi during the Martin Luther King era and it's about three ladies (two are black and work as maids and one is white and trying to make a difference). The maids are responsible for, among other things, raising the children of their white employers. When the children are young, they love their nannies and see no difference between them and anyone else in the house. But, as their parents teach them the difference between black and white, the children develop prejudices and the cycle of racism continues. One nanny tries to teach the children that everyone is the same on the inside but she knows her words and stories can't compete with the reality of the situation. It's awful because she knows that one day her beloved little darling is going to hate her.
Maybe someone forgot to tell the crow that it should have let the kitten die lest the kitten grow up and kill him one day.
Maybe someone forgot to tell the kitten that crows are tasty snacks.
Maybe we could all learn a lesson from them.
Forget our differences. Let's share a worm and a plate of cat food and take a stroll down the street together.
The story has been rattling around in my head all morning. Partly because the kitten is just so damn cute and the scenes of the two animals interracting are wonderful. But mostly because it's such an unusual relationship. Sworn enemies that, for whatever reason, don't see or don't care about their differences. And they sure as hell don't care about what their friends might say as they stroll down the street together, tail in wing.
Perhaps they never learned that cats eat birds.
Or that birds should be really really afraid of cats.
I'm currently in the middle of a really good book called The Help. It's set in Mississipi during the Martin Luther King era and it's about three ladies (two are black and work as maids and one is white and trying to make a difference). The maids are responsible for, among other things, raising the children of their white employers. When the children are young, they love their nannies and see no difference between them and anyone else in the house. But, as their parents teach them the difference between black and white, the children develop prejudices and the cycle of racism continues. One nanny tries to teach the children that everyone is the same on the inside but she knows her words and stories can't compete with the reality of the situation. It's awful because she knows that one day her beloved little darling is going to hate her.
Maybe someone forgot to tell the crow that it should have let the kitten die lest the kitten grow up and kill him one day.
Maybe someone forgot to tell the kitten that crows are tasty snacks.
Maybe we could all learn a lesson from them.
Forget our differences. Let's share a worm and a plate of cat food and take a stroll down the street together.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Next Generation of Nutters
The wind is blowing from the west at 28km/h with gusts of 37km/hour. It's already down to 4 degrees and dropping fast.
And I have to run in an hour.
Actually no, that's not true. I don't have to run. I want to run.
Verrrry different.
There are no training schedules telling me what to do. No pressure to fit the runs in. I'm just feeling the urge to go for a run. Wizard of Oz winds be damned: I'm heading out after work for a wee trot down the local streets.
Which begs a few questions...
What do you call a runner who heads out in nasty weather because they are training and need to get their run in?
Dedicated?
What do you call a runner who heads out in nasty weather with absolutely no excuse other than they feel like going for a run?
A nutter?
It's pretty easy to look at anyone who has a lifestyle different from our own and make some snap judgements. But the choices we make make sense to us. So, I won't make fun of you for going home and staying inside tonight if you don't make fun of me for going for a run in a windstorm.
Deal?
By the way, I'm not the only nutter out there. The new Beginner Running Clinic starts tonight at Runners' Edge. People all over Niagara are eyeing the trees blowing in the wind and wondering if they really want to go out in the cold, windy night to learn how to run. When 6:45pm rolls around there will be a huge group of them out there ready to take their first running steps. They will be cold, windblown and very nervous. They won't think that they have what it takes to be a runner.
When they look back on tonight, 12 weeks from now, they won't believe what they were able to accomplish. They will have gone from struggling through five minutes of running to polishing off 5k. And they will laugh at the wind, and the rain and whatever else the Running Gods throw their way. Because they will be runners!
How cool is that?
And I have to run in an hour.
Actually no, that's not true. I don't have to run. I want to run.
Verrrry different.
There are no training schedules telling me what to do. No pressure to fit the runs in. I'm just feeling the urge to go for a run. Wizard of Oz winds be damned: I'm heading out after work for a wee trot down the local streets.
Which begs a few questions...
What do you call a runner who heads out in nasty weather because they are training and need to get their run in?
Dedicated?
What do you call a runner who heads out in nasty weather with absolutely no excuse other than they feel like going for a run?
A nutter?
It's pretty easy to look at anyone who has a lifestyle different from our own and make some snap judgements. But the choices we make make sense to us. So, I won't make fun of you for going home and staying inside tonight if you don't make fun of me for going for a run in a windstorm.
Deal?
By the way, I'm not the only nutter out there. The new Beginner Running Clinic starts tonight at Runners' Edge. People all over Niagara are eyeing the trees blowing in the wind and wondering if they really want to go out in the cold, windy night to learn how to run. When 6:45pm rolls around there will be a huge group of them out there ready to take their first running steps. They will be cold, windblown and very nervous. They won't think that they have what it takes to be a runner.
When they look back on tonight, 12 weeks from now, they won't believe what they were able to accomplish. They will have gone from struggling through five minutes of running to polishing off 5k. And they will laugh at the wind, and the rain and whatever else the Running Gods throw their way. Because they will be runners!
How cool is that?
Monday, April 4, 2011
A Change of Focus
Happy April everyone!
In the last 24 hours we've had sun, snow, thunderstorms and +17 degrees. If March goes out like a lamb, April apparently comes in like a schizophrenic dragon who has been off his meds for a while.
March: the month of the longest runs of my life that culminated in the longest race of my life. I survived and, looking back, it doesn't seem like it was all that hard. I guess that in itself is something to be proud of.
April is shaping up to be less about me and my running pursuits and more about experiences, friends and food. April 2011 means 4 things:
1. Dinner guests
2. Boston!
3. A week by the coast
4. Seafood galore
Bring it on.
The month begins with a Monday night dinner with our friend Erin (see, I write about you in my blog!). Erin has agreed to join us for a few glasses of wine and some culinary experimentation. Two new recipes in one night.
Coriander Scallops with Orange-Ginger dressing to start followed by Rosemary and Mustard Pork Loin with Artichokes, Shallots and Vermouth Juice.
Could be delicious...
...or we could be ordering pizza.
Either way, it will be a fun dinner and perhaps a discovery of two new favourite dishes.
Cooking has evolved from something I did to something I liked to something that I truly enjoy. With every new experiment, Doug and I are getting braver in the kitchen. We've made appetizers, marinades and dressing, experimented with new vegetables, grains and meat, baked desserts and hosted a pile of dinner parties. It's been a great way to discover how much fun cooking can be. Combine it with friends and it's even better.
I'm glad that my race is over and that, for the next two months, I will be running to run rather than to train. It means I can focus on other things - photography, cycling, cooking and sharing great meals with great people.
Train hard
Rest well
Eat good food
Share with friends
Repeat
In the last 24 hours we've had sun, snow, thunderstorms and +17 degrees. If March goes out like a lamb, April apparently comes in like a schizophrenic dragon who has been off his meds for a while.
March: the month of the longest runs of my life that culminated in the longest race of my life. I survived and, looking back, it doesn't seem like it was all that hard. I guess that in itself is something to be proud of.
April is shaping up to be less about me and my running pursuits and more about experiences, friends and food. April 2011 means 4 things:
1. Dinner guests
2. Boston!
3. A week by the coast
4. Seafood galore
Bring it on.
The month begins with a Monday night dinner with our friend Erin (see, I write about you in my blog!). Erin has agreed to join us for a few glasses of wine and some culinary experimentation. Two new recipes in one night.
Coriander Scallops with Orange-Ginger dressing to start followed by Rosemary and Mustard Pork Loin with Artichokes, Shallots and Vermouth Juice.
Could be delicious...
...or we could be ordering pizza.
Either way, it will be a fun dinner and perhaps a discovery of two new favourite dishes.
Cooking has evolved from something I did to something I liked to something that I truly enjoy. With every new experiment, Doug and I are getting braver in the kitchen. We've made appetizers, marinades and dressing, experimented with new vegetables, grains and meat, baked desserts and hosted a pile of dinner parties. It's been a great way to discover how much fun cooking can be. Combine it with friends and it's even better.
I'm glad that my race is over and that, for the next two months, I will be running to run rather than to train. It means I can focus on other things - photography, cycling, cooking and sharing great meals with great people.
Train hard
Rest well
Eat good food
Share with friends
Repeat
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Back in the Saddle Again
My recovery week is at an end.
I relaxed.
I walked.
I put my legs up on the couch and read for hours at a time.
It was nice which it lasted.
Tomorrow, I have to be up, fed and ready to ride with the Runners' Edge cycling club by 8am. It's our first outdoor bike ride of the year. The first since last November when it just got way too cold to be on the road.
It's too bad that we can run when it's minus 30 degrees out but we have to stop cycling as soon as it gets anywhere near zero. But it's just too hard on a bike because speed equals wind which equals really really cold. Imagine driving your car in the winter with the windows open and you get the idea.
Tomorrow, we're braving the elements. It's supposed to be above zero but that still means that we will have several layers on and probably won't be able to feel our fingers, toes or face by the end of the ride.
Not having ridden outside for a few months, it's going to be a challenge to get the body moving again. We've been riding our trainers indoors all winter but it's not the same...at all. It's a lot harder on a bike when there are real hills to climb and incessant wind to contend with.
My feelings about cycling are really mixed. I love love love being on a bike. I love the speed and I love how we travel so far so fast. Compared to running, we cover a huge amount of distance in no time at all and our weekend rides take us up and down the Niagara Escarpment as we explore all that this area has to offer.
My issues with cycling can be blamed entirely on my very active imagination and the very real car accident that my family and I were in when I was 16. I am terrified of what could happen if I lose control or if a car pulls out in front of me. I hate blind corners and I doubly hate steep hills that abruptly end at a stop sign. Shaking, sweating, panicky kinda scared. I am scared when other cyclists ride too close to my back wheel, when squirrels look like they might dart in front of me, or when I can't see right to the bottom of the hill. It's just too easy to imagine all the things that could happen...in very vivid detail.
The good news is that I've never been one to let fear dictate what I do. It's there and I can't make it go away. But I've learned to control it. I know how to breathe through the fear in a way that keeps me in control and lets me enjoy the ride. I take my time in areas that frighten me and, when I need to, I will let everyone else go ahead of me so that I can go at my own pace.
The end result is that I get to do something I love, be with people I like being with, and prove to myself yet again that fear can be managed and conquered.
Plus we get to go to Tim Hortons afterwards for our weekly coffee klatsch which makes it all worthwhile!
I relaxed.
I walked.
I put my legs up on the couch and read for hours at a time.
It was nice which it lasted.
Tomorrow, I have to be up, fed and ready to ride with the Runners' Edge cycling club by 8am. It's our first outdoor bike ride of the year. The first since last November when it just got way too cold to be on the road.
It's too bad that we can run when it's minus 30 degrees out but we have to stop cycling as soon as it gets anywhere near zero. But it's just too hard on a bike because speed equals wind which equals really really cold. Imagine driving your car in the winter with the windows open and you get the idea.
Tomorrow, we're braving the elements. It's supposed to be above zero but that still means that we will have several layers on and probably won't be able to feel our fingers, toes or face by the end of the ride.
Not having ridden outside for a few months, it's going to be a challenge to get the body moving again. We've been riding our trainers indoors all winter but it's not the same...at all. It's a lot harder on a bike when there are real hills to climb and incessant wind to contend with.
My feelings about cycling are really mixed. I love love love being on a bike. I love the speed and I love how we travel so far so fast. Compared to running, we cover a huge amount of distance in no time at all and our weekend rides take us up and down the Niagara Escarpment as we explore all that this area has to offer.
My issues with cycling can be blamed entirely on my very active imagination and the very real car accident that my family and I were in when I was 16. I am terrified of what could happen if I lose control or if a car pulls out in front of me. I hate blind corners and I doubly hate steep hills that abruptly end at a stop sign. Shaking, sweating, panicky kinda scared. I am scared when other cyclists ride too close to my back wheel, when squirrels look like they might dart in front of me, or when I can't see right to the bottom of the hill. It's just too easy to imagine all the things that could happen...in very vivid detail.
The good news is that I've never been one to let fear dictate what I do. It's there and I can't make it go away. But I've learned to control it. I know how to breathe through the fear in a way that keeps me in control and lets me enjoy the ride. I take my time in areas that frighten me and, when I need to, I will let everyone else go ahead of me so that I can go at my own pace.
The end result is that I get to do something I love, be with people I like being with, and prove to myself yet again that fear can be managed and conquered.
Plus we get to go to Tim Hortons afterwards for our weekly coffee klatsch which makes it all worthwhile!
Friday, April 1, 2011
I Choose Life
I run to keep the diabetes monsters at bay.
I cycle so that the side effects of this insidious disease can't catch me.
I walk to keep my blood sugars under control.
These reasons are very true and they get me out of bed on dark, cold winter mornings when I have to run for 2 hours. They are also what push me out the door when it's hot and humid and I have hill training to do.
Diabetes gets me moving because, truth be told, I'm scared of what might happen if I don't.
But once my shoes are on and I am outside, diabetes no longer plays a role in my motivation.
My love of exercise takes over and I run, cycle or walk because I love it. Because I love being outside in all weathers. I love exploring Niagara. I love feeling strong and capable. I love surprising myself with how much I can do.
I don't want to be grateful for diabetes.
I want to kick it in the ass.
Diabetes does not go away so I have two choices:
- accept diabetes and get on with my life
- let diabetes hang like a cloud over everything I do.
I choose life.
So I guess I have to be grateful for diabetes for forcing me to decide what is important to me. Some people are never forced to make that decision and, as a result, life just moves quietly along...
Diabetes forces me to make that decision every day. Will I choose life? Will I take care of my body today so that I can keep it strong enough to fight. Thanks to diabetes, I have built amazing friendships with people who share a love of fitness and the outdoors. I have run thousands of kilometers and cycled for countless hours. I have crossed finish lines and have a dresser top covered in medals. I am fit, healthy, strong and happy.
Before diabetes, I exercised because I felt like I should.
Since diabetes, I exercise because I can.
And for that I am so very grateful.
“This post is my March entry in the DSMA Blog Carnival. If you’d like to participate too, you can get all of the information at http://diabetessocmed.com/2011/march-dsma-blog-carnival“
I cycle so that the side effects of this insidious disease can't catch me.
I walk to keep my blood sugars under control.
These reasons are very true and they get me out of bed on dark, cold winter mornings when I have to run for 2 hours. They are also what push me out the door when it's hot and humid and I have hill training to do.
Diabetes gets me moving because, truth be told, I'm scared of what might happen if I don't.
But once my shoes are on and I am outside, diabetes no longer plays a role in my motivation.
My love of exercise takes over and I run, cycle or walk because I love it. Because I love being outside in all weathers. I love exploring Niagara. I love feeling strong and capable. I love surprising myself with how much I can do.
I don't want to be grateful for diabetes.
I want to kick it in the ass.
Diabetes does not go away so I have two choices:
- accept diabetes and get on with my life
- let diabetes hang like a cloud over everything I do.
I choose life.
So I guess I have to be grateful for diabetes for forcing me to decide what is important to me. Some people are never forced to make that decision and, as a result, life just moves quietly along...
Diabetes forces me to make that decision every day. Will I choose life? Will I take care of my body today so that I can keep it strong enough to fight. Thanks to diabetes, I have built amazing friendships with people who share a love of fitness and the outdoors. I have run thousands of kilometers and cycled for countless hours. I have crossed finish lines and have a dresser top covered in medals. I am fit, healthy, strong and happy.
Before diabetes, I exercised because I felt like I should.
Since diabetes, I exercise because I can.
And for that I am so very grateful.
“This post is my March entry in the DSMA Blog Carnival. If you’d like to participate too, you can get all of the information at http://diabetessocmed.com/2011/march-dsma-blog-carnival“
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