How often have we seen these silent pleas from the windshields of passing cars.
Well, unfortunately, my car has joined their ranks.
After a (very) successful roadtrip to the rockies, my poor car has come back filthy in a way that only remote ski downs seem capable of accomplishing.
Let me explain, my car has been on its share of adventures; from skiing most weekends, hiking in the summer, and more recently - this week long roadtrip to the Rockies with four other humans.
After every trip, I’ve been a terrible car owner and justified my not cleaning the car to the fact that we had the next adventure just around the corner (we did)....however due to this rather practical yet unfortunate way of thinking through its escapades, it has accumulated a decent level of...let’s say ‘character’.
However, others may perhaps just classify this simply as dirt, or maybe grime.
So while this may not be nearly as scary as some of my other challenges. It was still a challenge that I needed to face - and (finally) cleaned the car.
The car (we actually named him Maurice), has definitely seen better days.
But since he’s brought us to so many great adventures, he also deserves the best treatment.
After a luxury car wash and some hard-core interior cleaning, Maurice was as sparkling as ever.
I guess my fear of cleaning him stemmed more from an irrational fear that it might mean I’d go on less adventures, or somehow wash away the old ones...but it was simply a means to prep him for all the great ones to come.
Today I did something I never thought I’d be capable of.
Today I volunteered for ski patrol.
As you may already know, I love skiing - in fact when I was 8, I was convinced I would go to the Olympics twice; one for rhythmic gymnastics and once for skiing. And while I did eventually compete on the national team for rhythmic gymnastics for ten years, skiing was a dream that sadly ended much earlier.
Simply put; I was given the choice between the two, and gymnastics eventually won out.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love skiing, in fact, I’m still head over heels for it.
The moment I retired from gymnastics, skiing actually came back and swept me up again. Sure I’ll never go to the Olympics, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it as often as I can.
So while I am quite a good skier, ski patrol has always seemed to be something just out of my reach. Sure it would be awesome, helping people AND getting to ski? sign me up!
But as always, those nagging doubts kept me in check....So to ease those fears - I instead confronted them.
The e-mail is sent, and the process is underway. Sooner rather than later, I’ll (hopefully) be certified ski patrol at your local mountain.
The way those superhuman chefs whip, batter, cut and cook what were raw ingredients five minutes ago into mouth-watering delectable dishes. I love it.
But I’ve never thought that I would be capable of doing it, content with enjoying their expertise while I go back to my tried-and-true weeknight classic meals (anyone say veggie stir fry?).
Well, no more. Thanks to this challenge, I’m stepping up my game and going to attempt a full meal from scratch...yup, and on top of that, I’m going to do it with no true recipe - instead mimicking those masterchefs in their instinctual flourishes of inspiration.
So today, I cooked a thai coconut chicken curry, from scratch.
To be completely honest, I don’t really trust myself in the kitchen. While I can make any average meal just as well as the next student confined to a budget - I’ve never considered myself a chef in the way that I can accurately describe what might be missing from a dish, unlike my resident foodie friends (’ah yes...it’s missing a pinch of cardamom dear’).
So after gathering my ingredients loosely based on previous (few) curries I have cooked in my life, I began working away in the kitchen.
There were definitely some uncertainties, but as I chopped, stewed and flavored my way through the curry, I realized that with every move I was gaining confidence.
“I’d add a little more paprika if I wanted, why not!”
“ Ya let’s throw some beans in this recipe, that would taste good...“
And in the end, it did.
Serving it to my (lucky) little guinea pigs known as my fam, I could tell that they were genuinely enjoying every bite (yes, success!).
And so goes my first venture into actual cooking, I may still be eons away from those masterminds on the food network, but at least I’m one step closer to expanding my repertoire from my usual meals and trusting myself enough in the kitchen to try new recipes (or to not follow one).
Go try it out: trust your instincts, go with what tastes good and most important of all, enjoy yourself.
Have you ever looked at Everest and wondered “Man, wouldn’t it be cool to do that?”
...and then you found out that it’s way more freaking difficult than you ever imagined and that you have a 1/60 chance of dying while trying to make it to the top?
Well that’s kind of how my relationship with climbing is.
In theory, I would love to be able to do it, and technically it’s something I could be quite decent at.
But in practice? That’s a whole other story.
So today I decided to tackle my Everest and take the first step to get into climbing.
I rounded up some friends (who are much better climbers than me), and we headed out for a night at The Hive. The local bouldering gym.
My recollection of the last time I was here was my arms being sore for a good week and a half afterwards (since I’ve been running, arm days have been nonexistent for me - unless downward dog counts?)
Anyways, it was a busy night at the Hive and it started out great. We tackled a few easy ones, then started out on a few harder intermediate ones. It was all going handy dandy.
Only after about the fourth climb did it really start to burn. And I’m not talking ‘oh my arms are kind of tired’ burn, more like an ‘my arms are aching so much, I think they might fall off if I try to climb more’ kind of burn. Suffice to say, we were very much attempting to stretch our poor forearms out in prayer pose (it helps SO much).
And somehow, amidst that awful burn, we still felt great. We were still scoping out new routes to try and having an awesome time. In a weird way, the pain was also the gain.
I’m guessing the people that climb up Everest do it to say that they made it to the top of the highest mountain in the world - an amazing feat, but there’s also something insanely satisfying in testing your body and realizing it’s full potential.
I may never climb Everest, heck I may never even be that great of a climber, but today I learned that no matter what you try, you’ve got to enjoy the process - as painful as it may be, sometimes it’s what gives the most satisfaction.
So for now, I’ve made the first step to climbing my own Everest. I’ve gotten into climbing....and who knows where that will bring me one day.
The friend who hesitates at the edge until she’s sure that everyone else has gotten in safely and there is really and truly no danger. Or the friend that hesitates at the top of the diving board, re-evaluating her decision to really truly jump off this slightly insane height.
But once I finally decide to do it, I leap.
So today, I skipped the hesitation and fully just went for it.
Today, I jumped into starting our own business.
We saw an opportunity, we brainstormed and we just did it.
By ‘we’ I mean my inexplicably awesome brother who also happens to be majoring in business. Within moments of getting our idea we acted on it.
Lucky for us, we got the great opportunity to have access to an amazing studio space at an insanely good location. And therefore…
We’re going to open up our own concept café.
Yes, it’s still in the works, yes it’s terrifying and yes, we want it to become an amazing success (without jinxing it).
Since we’re both still in school, this will be a side project, but we also realized that there was no better time to start doing something we’ve always wanted in our future, now.
Almost immediately, we started looking for ideas and things we could furnish our space with.
The plan is to have it up and running in time for our close group of friends by exam season this year, and from there – who knows where it will bring us?
Ciao for now, and if I learned anything today, it’s #justdoit.
I don’t know if this is some Canadian stereotype (I am often reminded that it is by my aussie friends), that began thanks to ‘How I Met Your Mother’.
Well, it isn’t. Canadians are very brave, fearless souls…who also happen to know what can be lurking in the wild.
But my own fear began a little later in life:
I remember I used to love the dark, as a child, we used to vacation on the islands off the coast of Vancouver and I would relish going to bed at night…seeing the millions of stars, and snuggling into my bed like a cocoon cause it was so dark you can barely make out your own hand in front of your face.
Well I believe that all changed the moment after I saw my first horror movie (a traumatic event, see here). After that, the dark meant that I would probably be haunted by some supernatural presence that WOULD eventually kill me.
So today, I confronted that fear. I stared it straight in the eye, and I shared a meal with it. Today, I dined in the dark.
Now if this sounds mysterious, let me clear it up a little. Dark Table in Vancouver is actually a restaurant that serves all its meals in complete darkness. A novel idea to ignite the senses and a way to understand how eating is like for someone that may be blind, as Dark Table only employs servers who are either blind or visually impaired.
Getting to the restaurant, we were excited and nervous for this experience. After we ordered outside, we were led into the pitch dark dining room by our server… conga line style. It was actually impossible to see anything at all (there went my illusions that it might simply be ‘dimly lit’).
Nope, if you held your finger right in front of your nose you STILL couldn’t make it out.
But oddly enough, there was no fear, and there was no discomfort. Instead, I felt a certain sense of calm that often only comes during certain poses during yoga class – a surrendering of the senses to the immediate moment and everything around you.
You became acutely aware of the conversations around you, which were just like any other normal restaurant conversations, the clinking of glasses and the shuffling of people.
As our food came, it was a delight to the senses. Our appetizer and dessert were both ‘surprises’, and delightful surprises they were!
(We guessed) a mushroom appetizer stuffed with savory cheese and sunflower seeds, I had a prawn risotto and for dessert… cheesecake!
Throughout the meal, I also felt like our conversation became more thoughtful and introspective…it seemed that with the darkness, there was an unraveling of barriers and everything we wanted to say came out easily and naturally.
Opening up to the darkness allowed me to open up to myself as well as those close to me, and not only was it not scary, it felt right – like by simply accepting the dark we were accepting ourselves as we were.
I would highly recommend anyone and everyone to visit an experience like Dark Table, it was one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had and if anything, the meal was frigging delicious.
How often have we heard that? It seems so easy, 'just do it' like there's nothing really involved except for you to take a step....well I guess sometimes Nike got it right.
So today, I started my half-marathon training regimen. And as much as I love running, signing up for a half-marathon is a scary thing to do. While 'past' me actually did this scary thing for me by signing for the lululemon Seawheeze half-marathon this summer, it's 'present' me must deal with the consequences.
After downloading a half-marathon training plan (thank you internet), all there was left to do was to tie up my laces and get going.
I find running so incredibly calming, it's one of the best times to really get into a zen and be alone with your thoughts.
Such as, about 5k in "oh my god, crap... i'm so tired"
Or around 8k, "shit...i'm so freaking far away from home right now"
But there's nothing like the elation of finally dropping into a panting hot mess at your front door, all other negative thoughts already buried under the endorphin high after a sweaty run.
I'm not saying it's going to be easy... but as a self-prescribed endorphins junkie I know I'm going to end up loving every bit of it. And there really is no better way to get outside, find your calm and really sweat it out.
From an early age, I’ve always loveddoing well at school and eventually I just made it a part of me. It’s hilarious because in recent years I feel like I’ve changed so much from being the shy girl in class that sometimes it doesn’t show as much as it used to (I might be wrong). Anyways, you would think that a science loving nerd chica like myself would jump at the chance to present my recent lab findings in front of other bright like-minded people in the form of a poster session. This is not the case. I am terrified of this.
You see, a poster session is basically your standard grade 8 science fair, except on steroids. Gone are the experiments describing plants growing in different light conditions followed by gentle nods of encouragement…Oh no, a poster session means that on one side there’s a genius who has found a way to study the effect of a genetic mutation in a neurobiological disorder while someone else has identified a new potential chemical target to cure cancer (okay…maybe exaggerations, but you get my point). And then there’s me, that girl who, albeit being part of an awesome lab and has done and learned some pretty cool things, just doesn’t feel like one of those people.
So after a suggestion by my grad supervisor, I decided to do it. Yes - it will be a great experience, yes – I’ll be able to interact with other researchers and yes- I will be terrified.
And guess what? Turns out it went really well, not only did I present well, I came really close to scoring best poster. Not only has this experience taught me not to doubt myself, it has given me a chance to interact with some pretty cool people that are doing some pretty cool things.
Before you assume that this challenge is asking for the removal of any person's pants, let me correct you, this challenge falls more along the lines of questions like this:
“Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”
…A question that will make any upcoming graduate (especially those who has no idea what they’re going to do), quiver at the knees.
So today, I updated my goals list. I’m not sure what it is about asking for what you want, but I definitely find it scary. Maybe it’s the act of asking for something in the future, or the fear of not being able to accomplish it. Goal writing is scary business.
So after sitting myself down with a mug of green tea and a view of the mountains, I began.
“Imagine your life 10 years from now without the constraints of time, education or money”
This is what I started with, and once you get started, it sure is easy to continue.
Amalia Andrade
There’s something so freeing about putting your deepest desires of life on paper. And somehow articulating them into words somehow can make them a little less terrifying. Even though I’m still nervous looking at my fully formed list of goals, it’s not the same fear that haunted me when it felt like I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Instead, it’s a thrill of excitement and a nervous anticipation about what’s coming and the next few steps I want to take. I actually found an old goals list that I had made last summer after I finished this challenge, and was surprised to find that I had already completed two of the goals on that list and that many of my future goals still aligned.
Sometimes looking at my goals, it still feels like I’m reaching for the moon, but I’d rather reach for the moon and fall among the stars than to never try at all.
Like all things worth having, my goals will take a lot of work and some determination, but seeing them now and where they could lead me one day, I am more motivated than ever to take the first step and pursue them.
It’s a wonderfully easy relationship where we both feel completely at ease with each other, growing, learning and sweating together.
However, as wonderful as our relationship is, it’s often existed as a series of short, passionate summer flings. I’ll see yoga every day throughout the summer months, then silence as autumn and responsibilities set in. As much as I loved it, I simply never make enough time.
So for this challenge I’m making a commitment to yoga. I mean, as scary as commitment is, if you’ve found something that can make you smile on your darkest days, calm you down and change your perspective of the world, why would you ever let it go?
As easy as it was to fill my summers up, it’ll be just as hard to ensure that I won’t simply put yoga on the back burner during the year. The excuses pile up...there are too many other things to do, I could get a more intense workout doing something else, it’s just too expensive… So it’s time I put my foot down. Yoga and I have a good thing going, and it would be a shame to simply brush it off.
As recently as yesterday, I re-ignited my passion with yoga. I remembered its amazing qualities during my hot (hip-hop) yoga class at Hotbox Yoga.
I had never been to Hotbox, but boy, am I glad I went yesterday. It was truly an enjoyable experience. It was like yoga was simply sitting patiently behind a corner, just waiting for me to stumble back into it. It was everything I wanted. A cute little studio tucked away up a long flight of stairs, where you emerge to be greeted by a hip white interior and a long panel of windows letting in the natural light. I swooned, and fell all over again after sweating out my worries and meeting the wonderful instructor that taught us. So this time, instead of skipping out, I’m stepping in. And lucky for me, with the Hotbox’s March Madness sale (5 classes for $35!), I really have no more excuses to not commit to my love affair with yoga. From now on, I’m going to have a once a week (at least) standing date with my very dearest yoga.
Yes, you read correctly, that says hip-hop yoga…As in both of them, together.
I’m a huge fan of yoga, ever since I retired fromgymnastics, it’s been that comfy leather sofa that I’ve been able to reclineinto so easily. I already have theflexibility, I love the relaxation as well as the journey it brings you on for self-discovery. But hip-hop, that’s a whole other story.
Hip-hop and I have a very rocky relationship. Maybe it’s the years of ballet training, but I’m simply incapable of making my body slouch and jerk in the right ways without looking mildly like a robot. It’s so freaking difficult to pull off being cool.
(I WISH I was this cool, girl's got swaag):
So when I saw that Hotbox yoga on campus was offering a hip-hop yoga class Friday evenings, I was in. I called up my friend and partner in crime (who is also a fantastic running buddy) and we planned to go later in the day.
We got to Hotbox yoga for our class and prepped ourselves in the beautiful studio with some stretching. Before we knew it, our bubbly yogi was leading us through flows while a background hip-hop beat was accompanying our every move. And I have to say; it felt great.
Sweat was dripping into eyes and onto mats, but I had a huge smile plastered on my face. It was yoga, except even more energized because of the sweet tunes, and I didn’t even feel that out of place!
I feel like the combo of hip-hop and yoga has successfully got me feeling more at ease with hip-hop while ensuring I worked my butt off.
Who knows, maybe one day I'll be the one breaking down those Yonce moves.
So we just watched The Imitation Game (which I would highly recommend), and I think that’s a pretty good intro to this next challenge.
You know that part where they’re in a room trying to figure out the codes and use clues to basically win a war? Yea, well that’s what we’ll be doing. My amazing visiting aussie friend found this super cool thing called Smartypantz in gastown that basically has a bunch of rooms with different scenarios where you have an hour to figure out all the clues so that you can get out. The scenarios range from being stuck in a submarine, getting murdered by a cannibalistic psychopath, to being in a paranormal activity house (are you kidding me??).
I don’t know what could be scarier.
I’m not sure if I mentioned that I have a terrible, terrible fear of horror. I have watched a total of one horror movie in my life (the Ring) and have never since watched another. Even when horror movie ads come up on tv, I have to either shut my eyes or plug my ears (often both) just to avoid it (yes, I'm a chicken). So needless to say that while this challenge seemed super exciting, it was also one of the scariest things I could do.
So with this in mind, we signed up for it with two other friends. We did however avoid the absolutely, piss-inducing terrifying ones for fear of our mental well - being and general sanity. But we did sign up for a very legitimate scenario where you have an hour to break into a Nazi’s office to get secret papers (we were hoping The Imitation Game would prep us well for this beforehand). If this isn’t something out of a scary movie, I don’t know what is.
Arriving at Smartypantz (finding it was already the first challenge), we were quickly introduced to our scenario: you’re working for the secret forces to infiltrate and obtain an important folder in under 45mins.
What happened next was a flurry of rummaging, yelling, team work and frustration. Clues were hard to find, red herrings brought us down the wrong paths and it was ridiculously fun.
In the end, we came SO close to solving it, enough so that our frustrations were many when our time was up. But overall it was an amazing experience with some amazing people. Not only did it cure me of my fear of being stuck in a locked room under pressure, it taught me that sometimes failure is ok as long as you learned something (and had fun) in the process.
That pretty much sums up how I feel when I’m told to share about myself. At least; in front of large groups.
That moment when your teacher asks you to share your name and something about yourself at the beginning of every grade school year? Yea, that was my worst nightmare. Don’t get me wrong, I love sharing, in fact some of my close friends might even argue I more often than not over share with them. But there’s just something about telling a stranger something personal that petrifies me every time.
Therefore, this is likely one of the scariest challenges because I get deep anxiety when I need to share my thoughts and feelings publicly, especially when it’s about something as personal as what I think about myself. (In fact, writing any of this on a blog is already a feat in itself). I hate bragging so much because I would never, ever want anyone to ever think that I’m full of myself. Since this challenge stemmed from a loss of who I am and what makes me unique, I’m going to start by being open about who I am and taking a step to loving myself. Here are 30 things that I love about me:
My brains. I used to be a nerd, and I am so grateful for it now.
My determination. If I set my mind to doing something, I’ll get it done.
My hard work. See 2) those goals have to be met somehow.
My physique. More thanks to rhythmic gymnastics than anything else, I feel like it’s something I can be proud of because I worked hard for it.
My flexibility. Also a nod to gymnastics (there is no better feeling than being able to do all the moves in yoga class).
My love of reading (and my abilities at it). I will happily settle down with a book for a few hours…or better yet, finish it in a day.
My love of exercise. A day is not complete without it. My willingness to run, climb, or dance and my ability of prioritizing it. A true endorphins junkie.
My skiing skills.
My cheekbones (thanks to mum!)
My competitiveness. I like knowing that I’ll step up to any challenge.
My love of adrenaline. Skydiving, bungee jumping, heights…give me all of it!
My ability to stay calm and get out of bad situations. My rationality always comes out when I’m faced with impossible circumstances.
My eyes. I love their shape.
My French/language skills. Thanks to immersion and a year in Paris (as well as French friends!), I can now converse with the best of them. Also Cantonese is cool.
My adaptability. I can easily fit in with different groups or make myself at home in different environments and cultures.
My independence. I know I’ll be ok on my own.
My love of animals. No explanation needed.
My belief in true love and romance. Though ulterior cynicism may point otherwise, I’m a romantic at heart (those rom -coms from my teen years have stuck).
My confidence. Newfound as it may have once been (see 1), I don’t go anywhere without it now.
My gracefulness (-ish). Gymnastics again, I love the control I have over my body.
My sense of style. Paris-bred, I love my ability to dress myself and know what looks good on me.
My handwriting. As messy as it gets sometimes, I still love it.
My perfectionism. There’s nothing like a job well done.
My ambition. I love how it motivates me.
My friendliness. Old friends or new, I’ll always be super friendly to everyone. This also includes my love of meeting new people and my outgoing ability to strike up a conversation.
My ability to be alone. Being solitary is difficult, but I’ve learned to love time with me and to use it to recuperate.
Always being open to having a good time and an adventure. I love my ability to say yes to new experiences and lack of restraint when trying new things.
My love of traveling and exploring. In a constant state of wanderlust.
Never settling. Whether it’s a place or a routine or a person, ‘settle’ is not something I let myself do.
My passion. If I love something, I’ll make sure to make it a big part of my life. Follow your heart, right?
