Running For A Reason

I'm participating in the CIBC Run For The Cure this year. I'm not going it alone but running with a team made up of comics from around Toronto. When my friend Ian asked if I'd like to join the team and run for cancer his timing couldn't have been more perfect. I'd been feeling low - still no job, summer turning to fall, closer to another birthday and so on - so it was great to be presented with an opportunity to do something for other people that would shift my focus off my "mohills that seem like mountains" problems.

Now here's the thing; I started training to run the 10K today and I'm HORRENDEOUSLY out of shape, I knew I was out but didn't realize just how far. I have no doubt that my muscle memory will kick in and I'll be slow run/fast walking the 10K with no problem by October 4th.

That's not the problem, the problem is that I've shifted the focus of running back to me. Running for breast cancer research is now a secondary thought "Oh yeah, the cancer, right. But more importantly I'm going to start losing weight and looking better." My chartitable intentions have led me back to my vanity goals.

Does everyone have this problem? Do we as a society and as individuals ever just do a good deed without the thought of what we get out of it? The good feelings, the sense of satisfaction, the bragging rights, the tax write-off, the free lunch...

Day to day good deeds may not be noticed at first but the more you do them the better you feel - provided you're not doing them out of spite or to show off, because when no one notices you'll get bitter and resentful in a big hurry as the attitude and actions of an ex-friend will attest to.

Maybe it's not such a bad thing to do good deeds for slightly selfish reasons. You feel better, they feel better and they'll want to do a good deed for someone which will make that person feel better and they'll go on and do two good things for people and those two people will do good for four good people and I think you get the idea.

If you want to do something nice and feel good about it, feel free to donate to my run here: https://www.cibcrunforthecure.com/html/p.asp?t=3629350&l=1

The Best Way to Start a Day

I've been hiking Fryman Canyon for the last three days. I intend to make it a daily occurence, despite the pain in my legs that is trying to convince me otherwise. It's honestly not a strenuous hike, I'm just slightly out of shape. And no matter what my thigh muscles are telling me my heart and head are absolutely in love with it.

It cost $1 to park at the lot where it begins. One dollar a day for parking is way cheaper than a gym membership anywhere. And on top of that at the gym you have to deal with people and equipment and mirrors that to me are so detrimental to an actual work out. Who the hell thought it was a stellar idea to stare at oneself while you body jiggles and jaggles every which way and you're sweating profusely? Not me.

The first part of the hike is a steep uphill incline and it's paved. Paved from, I'm guessing, about 1972 so it's all bumpy and cracked and uneven. It's a bit of a strain. But once you hit the dirt path.... it's all golden. Literally. Sunshine, stunning, sweeping valley views, wildflowers, and silence. No gym stereo or aerobics instructor or machines clinking or weights clacking. Just nature and your thoughts. It's a really nice, refreshing way to start my day. Even my chihuahua Gus, who isn't known for enjoying long walks or behaving on them, trotted along like a good little boy the entire way without an issue. He too seemed to be enamored with the place.

The daily hike gives me much treasured, much needed alone time in my head without any kind of distraction I can focus on planning my day, working out writer's block, mulling over new jokes and - just as important - daydreaming.

Fryman Canyon is one of my favorite things about this new home of mine and I thought I would share it with all of you.

Siblings

I'm the baby in a family with 5 children. On top of which I am that late-in-life, we-thought-we-were-done-but-oops! kid. I have a brother 8 years older than me, a sister 11 years older, another brother 13 years older and another 15 years older.

It was odd because it was almost like growing up an only child with a lot of uncles and an aunt. By the time I hit my teens my brothers and sisters had all moved out and I only saw them on holidays. Even now that we're adults, when we all get together, they exchange stories of crazy teen antics I did not partake in and memories of family events I was in diapers for.

That exclusion is a hard part of being the youngest, by a mile. However it's bareable and expected. And being a late-in-life baby for my parents, who are now in the mid 70s means I won't have them in my life as long as my siblings, and I have accepted that. But what has happened that was unexpected and I can't seem to accept is losing my siblings before my parents. My oldest brother died of lung cancer before he hit 40. And now my 44 year old brother is in the hospital awaiting a course of treatment after having a mild heart attack. He'll either have stents put in his arteries or bypass. I'm sure my brother will be fine because this kind of medical issue is, sadly, common nowadays and very treatable, especially because they caught it before a major heart attack. But it still makes me sad for things I can not change and things I'll never have.

I watched my grandmother - at 80 - enjoy Christmas dinner with her brother. They were 4 years apart. It was so neat to watch them interact and share stories about moving from Newfoundland to Montreal with their parents and sister. My favorite part of extended family gatherings was watching my dad and his sisters tease each other. They do it everytime they get together and have a wee bit too much to drink. (which is always). They joke about how my dad used to get his youngest sister to play poker with him every Saturday morning and swindle her out of her allowance. Or how he used to bully his oldest sister's male suitors.

My brother curently in the hospital has 8 year old twins - a boy and a girl. I watched them finish each other sentences and know exactly how to push each other buttons and I envy it. I want to sit them down and tell them how lucky they are and how they should thank their lucky stars for their closeness, both in age and emotion. But I know they wouldn't get it. I really wish I didn't get it either.