Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween

Monkey Arms and Rhino. Two of our lesser known nicknames... well, G's is pretty well known now, since she officially adopted hers (bestowed upon her by one of our northern pals). The little latina rhino that charges into everything with immense gusto, sometimes without really thinking it through and then having a good laugh about it later.

And monkey arms? Where does that one come from you ask? That one came from Ms. K - her attempt at complimenting me on my sculpted shoulders and arms... I think she was going more for the powerful gorilla visual but instead the first image I got was of a spindly lemur leaping about tree to tree vine to vine stopping every once in a while to delicately peel a banana and stuff its sweet little cheeks. Still, it stuck, and that's pretty much that.

All the same, I think it's damn awesome. Especially when you consider K carved us into this jack-o-lantern for all eternity. Ok well maybe just a week or two - the poor thing is already starting to rot and cave a little... but the image, memory and wonder of it will last much much longer. Some people have bobblehead dolls. Or lunch boxes. Or hand towels. We got the coolest, one-of-a-kind, hand-crafted, tribute ever. Love it.

First fit test is coming up in less than a month. Crap. Guess I better put that candy BACK in the jar and walk away. Fast. Straight to the gym.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

what's next? a movie of course!

As if we weren't having enough fun... now we get to be in a movie too!

I may have mentioned this earlier this summer - at one of our Montreal competitions footage was taken for an upcoming documentary about our sport. It will include a lot of athletes, but our team will have an extra special focus as I understand it. Check out this trailer - it's just beautifully done. Can't wait to see the full thing!

And while we wait, we continue to train. Coach has cranked things up for us... the workouts are killer. Today I wanted to die.. and give up (for a moment anyway).. and then I remembered what I was doing all this for... and suddenly giving up was no longer an option.

On Friday, my daughter joined G and I at the gym - it was G's birthday and we decided to have a little fun with it. So when I saw a Zumba class on the schedule, I thought why not? G was enthusiastic. "YEAH!! We can shake it up on my birthday! Woohoo!"

When my kid heard what we were plotting, she was all over it too. "I love Zumba! I wanna come!" Ok, she had no school, so sure why not.

But first she had to endure a weight workout with the twins.

I think we got her to try the bench press once, and she managed a set of 10 assisted chinups. And a few medicine ball tosses and squats, but for the most part she just watched us do our thing, and helped time our planks. I think she got a new appreciation for her mom and auntie that day... :)

After our workout we rested a little and double checked the schedule.

"Hey G?" I said, "what does Zumba Gold mean?"
"Old."
"No not old, GOLD," I clarified.
"It means OLD. Don't tell me you picked Zumba Gold for us!"
"Um, well, yeah, it's the only one on the schedule..." Sheepish grins followed by loud bellowing laughter ensued. My 16-year-old looked horrified. "Really? It means THAT?"
"Are they gonna let us do it mom? Are we too young?"
HAHAHAHA. Sweet kid.

Sure enough, it was Zumba with the senior crowd, but I think that may have actually been a blessing in disguise. Slower pace and less intimidating. I have two left feet when it comes to any sort of choreography... you should have seen me in the 80s trying to keep up with exercise videos in my living room... ugh. Anyway... this was marginally better. (NO they didn't throw us out, they welcomed us with open arms.) I only hit the equipment stacked up at the perimeter walls three times I think. My neighbor, a sweet lady with a tolerant smile got fed up at that point and tried to move a few stacks of aerobic steps out of my way lest there be a fourth hit.

"This is a great workout!" G mouthed at me. My kid was smiling, her fear gone, tho later she said to me "I didn't really get a workout mom, and you and G were sweating!"  When I reminded her that she couldn't hack our earlier workout... then it was her smiling rather ruefully. Hee.

Of course G wants to go back -- and to the high energy regular class, that is pretty much packed wall to wall with coordinated bodies. Guess I better find me some youtube videos and practice ...

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Vacation's over - we're back in the gym

True or false? We love:


  • chinups
  • the paddle erg
  • deadlifts
  • squats
TRUE!! (ok maybe not the first two so much, but we're back at it and if we didn't love it we wouldn't do it right?)

We were planning on meeting at the gym, but they had a large power outage so we decided to do the workout at G's instead. We had to improvise a little, as she doesn't have either a cage or a cable machine, but we had plenty of options. The only less-than stellar part of either the home gym or the real gym is having to do chin-ups with elastic straps. And since our workout had high reps, there was no way we were going to accomplish them without the straps. What's the problem with getting a little assistance? I don't know about boys, but those darn elastics near cut a girl's vagina in half. It's really not a pleasant experience!

No matter, we muscled and groaned and grunted through a killer workout in anticipation of Thanksgiving weekend. Not so much for good turkey and pumpkin pie - but for our first fit test of the new season. Who needs a food coma anyway - bring on the chinups!

Friday, October 12, 2012

Nexus Trusted Traveler!!

So, back in June, after one too many times waiting in a loooong line at the border hoping we'd make it to practice on time, and watching the odd car zoom through the Nexus lane and be on its way with barely a pause, I decided to get my own "Trusted Traveler" card. The name reminds me of the days I used to fly alone, yo-yo-ing between parents in different countries. They'd hang a "young traveler' tag around my neck, give me a bag of stuff to entertain me in-flight, and send me off down the ramp with an immaculately dressed, beautifully made-up and coiffed stewardess. (Yes we were allowed to call them stewardesses back then, when political correctness hadn't even been thought of as a concept yet.) My favorite part of those trips was collecting the little wing pins they'd give you - you had to amass a certain number to get cool stuff - and getting to go in the cockpit and hang with the pilots. Try doing that nowadays. One pilot even let me push buttons. I was terrified of sending the plane into a careening spin, almost wet my pants as I reached out to put the plane on autopilot, but we all survived.

Anyway...I have digressed. So I applied for this Nexus card, and waited. (You apply online, and you have to keep going back into the online system to check on the status of your application. They don't send you a message that you've been approved.. that's too easy. They make you work for it. If you don't check, you won't see that you've been conditionally approved, won't get to select an interview date, won't see that you have a conditional approval in the system that you need to print out and bring to your interview... etc. So you have to write down this insanely long and pointless-to-try-and-remember username and password (and hope you don't lose it because trying to get it reset is an exercise in futility) and remember to check where things are.)

I went to Hong Kong while my application was pending. When I got back and checked on it, there a few alerts in the system - I needed to respond and pick my interview date pronto or I my application would be terminated. Argh! So I picked a date. The first available was... early October.

On the appointed day, I drove to Champlain, New York, and followed the strange instructions on my letter. "Drive around to the building marked X (it didn't say X it said something else but I've since forgotten). Don't drive up to it, park your car in the lot, walk up to the building, go through the second set of sliding doors.." buckle your seatbelt three times, turn around twice, you get the idea. Anyway, I made it, I walked in, I got to sit in a cubicle with a nice US agent, then moved over three feet to chat with a Canadian agent, and we were done. "Do you want to go get your retinal scan now?" was the final question. "Uh...?" Oh sure, what the heck, I was already there and I don't have any privacy anywhere anymore anyway, what's a retinal scan gonna do?

So I got back in my car, hopped back on the highway, crossed into Canada ("you're going to that building, but don't go over to it there, go right here, then take a left at the THIRD stop sign, then go around to the side entrance..."), parked the car, shimmied myself between a jersey barrier and a bright yellow security gate thing, and marched up to a side-door (hoping it was the right one and I wasn't going to be met with pistol-wielding border agents).

Blah blah blah, got my eyes scanned, had a laugh, and off I went. Crossed back into the US and was on my way home again in less than 10 minutes.

So.. on Tuesday, with my brand new card, I decided to give it a whirl. I approached the border, saw that lane 5 was the Nexus lane, and pointed my car at it. Shit - there was the scanner thing and I'm rolling too fast and don't even have my card out of the protective sleeve yet! I pulled it out quickly, scanned it as I rolled by, thinking 'yeah, that wasn't even close to the 3 seconds pause they told me to make, oops' and continued to roll up to the booth and the lift gate/barrier. It's a booth identical to the other lanes, but it's empty. Instead, there is a little box on it, like at the Burger King drive through, with a note taped to it. "Press red button to speak to an agent."

Now I don't know about you, but in my advanced age, I find it helpful to mutter and read instructions and things out loud to myself. It gets the point across better somehow. So there I am, looking perplexed at this thing and wondering what the heck I'd gotten myself into.

"Press red button... I see a silver button, there is no fucking red button.." and just as I realized I'd sworn out loud at this box, a nasally crackle came through it.

"Bonjour madame!" Shit!
"Bonjour monsieur!"

Luckily the agent wasn't offended. Instead, he asked me a few questions, pressed his own button to lift the gate to let me pass, and wished me a nice day. Next time, I know what to do. (Keep mouth shut, press silver button, don't embarrass self.) Now if G would hurry up and get HER card too, we'd be all set.