Andi and I jumped outta bed around 8am for Breakfast and Facebook then went back to bed. Around noon we were trying to sleep through the loud, language-barrier strained convo between the French girls and Latin American boys who were sharing our room when one of the girls from the front desk came to find us, saying Nick and Tim were waiting in the lobby for us. We crawled out of bed and hauled our jet lagged asses as best we could.
We took the underground to a tourist-y area, then grabbed a snack and started walking. We hit up the natural history museum, the Victoria and Albert museum, Hyde park Buckingham palace and a guard building. This was the Nick Detmer patented checklist approach to sightseeing, where you spend just long enough at each place to tell an anecdote and show people your pics later. We headed back to the hostel, got changed and chatted with a couple of cool aupairs from Switzerland who were also staying in our room.
We left the Hostel to meet up with people from some other Mongol Rally teams at a bar called George. They were mostly boys, who were chill, funny and a little bit anxious. We realized that we weren't the only ralliers who were massively under prepared and I think it made us all feel a lot better. Tim and another of Nick's world-travelling friends, Andreas, came out to meet us as well. We switched pubs when George closed, drank for a little while longer, then Andi and I cabbed it back to the hostel. We sorted out some finances, bought travel insurance and then crashed HARD.
In the morning we sorted our luggage, booked our overnight bus to Amsterdam. We had breakfast in the hostel with this cool bike tourist from Kansas city and then checked out. Andrea's foot was kind of wrecked from a photo-op mishap the day before so we weren't up for any more whirlwind sightseeing. We ended up bumming around on Tim's couch for most of the day, laughing at how low budget UK music videos are. Nick said he wanted to go out but we only made it as far as Mark & Spencer's, got some ingredients then headed back to Tim for bacon and mushroom pasta. We continued to veg, watched some Top Gear then Andi and I split to catch our bus.
The bus was fine, a little bit sketchy but not bad at all. The only brutal thing was that we had to get off the bus on the ferry, so we didn't get much sleep. It was a relief the to get to the Amsterdam... to be covered in my next post.
XO
EC
Monday, September 6, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Flight over & first day in London
Tuesday, July 13th
"Ever put a hammer in that loop?"
We checked in, removed travel watch from our Visa cards, paid for the the all you can drink VIP lounge and knocked back a couple vodka sodas hopin' to pass out on the plane. Everyone had said there goodbyes and I even managed to squeeze out a surprising number of tears. Nick was rockin' a foxy pair of Gap carpenter pants trying to assert himself as manliest and handiest team member. In the end I'd say it was more like a four way tie for least handy.
After my first Vodka-induced nap I woke up pretty excited, London in ~7 hours!!! Finally a chance to forget about the stresses of the past few weeks, ie. worried about my fam, worried about starting a career, fighting with a boy. Yech.
When I awoke from my second nap we were flying into the sunrise. I passed out again by listening to Portishead.
Wednesday, July 14th
Arrived in London the morning of the 14th and started to navigate the London Underground. We made it to King's Cross station and finally located Clink78, the hostel where Andrea and I were staying. This was my first hostel experience and... well, it didn't turn my off of the concept, but it was hardly luxurious.
We stashed our bags in the luggage room, which required forcing the door and then hawking our stuff into enormous piles of black and navy luggage. We hoped we would get it back but were too sick of carrying it to be really concerned. After freshing up we headed back to King's Cross to find Platform 9 3/4, much to Nick's embarrassment. King's Cross is huuuge so we had to [sheepishly] ask one of the underground staff to direct us. She knew exactly what we wanted before we even got to her. We proceeded to take a bunch of silly pictures. I even shot a sexy Harry Potter one thinking of my buddy Deborah but, alas, my camera is gone forever.
Next we made our way to a pub and had a few rounds of beer and cheese toasties. A toastie is kinda like a grilled cheese except not very good. Our server at that first pub was friendly though and [accidentally?] didn't charge us for one of our rounds.
After the pub we followed Nick and met his buddy Tim at his beautiful flat on Dingley Road. When we arrived at Tim's we immediately passed out. Andi and I shared a couch and slept like this (I've tried to reproduce what I drew in my journal, for some reason I found this extra hilarious):
Suffice to say once I awoke from my coma I had to spend several minutes getting my blood to circulate back through my body. All my limbs had pins and needles.
Once we were all mobile again we headed out in Tim's area which I think was called Islington. We started at a legion bar first, where we were joined by Tim's buddy Voitek (sp?). The legion closed early and the next bar was very cool looking but pretty empty. There I encountered my first example of Xtreme Londoner PDA - serious 45 minute on the couch tonsil hockey in a decently lit room with only one other group of people. They must still live with their parents.
The next club we went to was sweet, I believe it was called Mother, or maybe mother bar. The music was well chosen and Tim and Voitek wanted to dance, so us inhibited Canadians sacked up and drank enough liquor to get looooose. The boys at this bar were a little bit grabby, but Nick was kind enough to cockblock for me for the night. We had loads of fun that night, my best memories were definitely Nick and I's unofficial dance off to Blow Ya Mind and disco dancing with a hilarious Aussie boy.
Voitek went home relatively early but the rest of us closed down the club then walked back to Tim's place, making brief stops on the way for Kebab (that keb-aaaaaaab) and photo ops with old Irishmen. Tim called Andi and I a cab and we finally crash at Clink around 4am. It was an excellent day, totally worth how terribly it compounded our jetlag.
EC
"Ever put a hammer in that loop?"
We checked in, removed travel watch from our Visa cards, paid for the the all you can drink VIP lounge and knocked back a couple vodka sodas hopin' to pass out on the plane. Everyone had said there goodbyes and I even managed to squeeze out a surprising number of tears. Nick was rockin' a foxy pair of Gap carpenter pants trying to assert himself as manliest and handiest team member. In the end I'd say it was more like a four way tie for least handy.
After my first Vodka-induced nap I woke up pretty excited, London in ~7 hours!!! Finally a chance to forget about the stresses of the past few weeks, ie. worried about my fam, worried about starting a career, fighting with a boy. Yech.
When I awoke from my second nap we were flying into the sunrise. I passed out again by listening to Portishead.
Wednesday, July 14th
Arrived in London the morning of the 14th and started to navigate the London Underground. We made it to King's Cross station and finally located Clink78, the hostel where Andrea and I were staying. This was my first hostel experience and... well, it didn't turn my off of the concept, but it was hardly luxurious.
We stashed our bags in the luggage room, which required forcing the door and then hawking our stuff into enormous piles of black and navy luggage. We hoped we would get it back but were too sick of carrying it to be really concerned. After freshing up we headed back to King's Cross to find Platform 9 3/4, much to Nick's embarrassment. King's Cross is huuuge so we had to [sheepishly] ask one of the underground staff to direct us. She knew exactly what we wanted before we even got to her. We proceeded to take a bunch of silly pictures. I even shot a sexy Harry Potter one thinking of my buddy Deborah but, alas, my camera is gone forever.
Next we made our way to a pub and had a few rounds of beer and cheese toasties. A toastie is kinda like a grilled cheese except not very good. Our server at that first pub was friendly though and [accidentally?] didn't charge us for one of our rounds.
After the pub we followed Nick and met his buddy Tim at his beautiful flat on Dingley Road. When we arrived at Tim's we immediately passed out. Andi and I shared a couch and slept like this (I've tried to reproduce what I drew in my journal, for some reason I found this extra hilarious):
Suffice to say once I awoke from my coma I had to spend several minutes getting my blood to circulate back through my body. All my limbs had pins and needles.
Once we were all mobile again we headed out in Tim's area which I think was called Islington. We started at a legion bar first, where we were joined by Tim's buddy Voitek (sp?). The legion closed early and the next bar was very cool looking but pretty empty. There I encountered my first example of Xtreme Londoner PDA - serious 45 minute on the couch tonsil hockey in a decently lit room with only one other group of people. They must still live with their parents.
The next club we went to was sweet, I believe it was called Mother, or maybe mother bar. The music was well chosen and Tim and Voitek wanted to dance, so us inhibited Canadians sacked up and drank enough liquor to get looooose. The boys at this bar were a little bit grabby, but Nick was kind enough to cockblock for me for the night. We had loads of fun that night, my best memories were definitely Nick and I's unofficial dance off to Blow Ya Mind and disco dancing with a hilarious Aussie boy.
Voitek went home relatively early but the rest of us closed down the club then walked back to Tim's place, making brief stops on the way for Kebab (that keb-aaaaaaab) and photo ops with old Irishmen. Tim called Andi and I a cab and we finally crash at Clink around 4am. It was an excellent day, totally worth how terribly it compounded our jetlag.
EC
Friday, August 27, 2010
Signing on for my adventure
This year I embarked on The Mongol Rally 2010. This is a non-race from London, UK (with starts from Barcelona and Milan as well) to Ulaan Bataar, Mongolia. It's organized by The Adventurists UK and has two purposes: to be an amazing adventure through tough terrain and some of the least tourist-y regions of the world in a wholly inappropriate vehicle and to raise money for development charities like Mercy Corps Mongolia and The Christina Noble Children's Fund. Once [IF] your team and car make it to Ulaan Bataar the car is donated and auctioned off, and teams are free to make their own way back. There is not time limit and no prescribed route. Nor is there much in the way of official Adventurists assistance along the way.
It wasn't me who came up with the idea to participate, but a couple of my close childhood friends, Andrea and Dancy Mason. On a few weekends when we had all convened in Belleville for family BBQs in the summer of 2009 the girls tossed around the idea or putting a team together and I was SO on board. It sounded like exactly the kind of wild adventure I wanted to cap off my university career [in fall 2009 I started teacher's college at OISE/UT, hopefully my last year of school ever]. Once September rolled around the Mason girls' call for team mates was all over Facebook. My only fear in signing on was being able to afford the trip, but after consulting some of my wisest and most fiscally conservative friends I felt confident that I could work my ass off to save the money, and any debt I incurred would be totally worth it.
I joined the Facebook group and signed a contract. By our first team meeting in October there were 6 official members of the team. Our name was The Great Canadian Beavers. By then I had picked up a job as a cashier Steve's Music Store and was babysitting a couple of my little cousins to start saving. By November I had started a second job at Mostly Math Tutoring in North York. It made for a very busy school year. I kept a schedule on a chalkboard in my bedroom and it was almost always packed with colour coded nonsense reminding me of the five or six things I needed to do every day. There were a lot of days when I came home after my roommate, Wafaa, had gone to bed and left before she was up in the morning. I missed her lots.
Over the course of the year we dropped two team members but managed to get our act together, mostly thanks to the work of Andi and Dancy. Nick, our team's token male member, and myself, were a little out of the loop at times. In May Dancy purchased our car, a red Vauxhall Agila, over the internet. With the help of a couple Scottish teams, it made its way to a garage outside Glasgow to get as rally- ready as possible.
At the end of June I finished work and Andrea, Nick and I booked tickets to London for July 13th. Dancy would fly to meet us a week later in Glasgow. The week beforewas jammed full or prep and was pretty stressful. Especially since I managed to somehow land a TDSB teaching job for September literally a week before I left. The highlight of my good byes was definitely the party my Aunt Karen, Aunt Paula and Grandma threw for me. They sent me off in true Dickie form with excessive amounts of food, too many people crammed in the kitchen and very generous donations to help me along the way.
I'm going to write posts to document my travels, based on the journal I kept while I was away. Unfortunately, my trip ended prematurely when my purse with my passport, visas, cash, credit cards and camera was stolen in Romania. Last I read, my team has made it to Mongolia but aren't expected home until September 7th. I am happy that the remaining Beavers have been so successful, even if they're running a little late, but I can't deny that I'm also a little jealous.
XO
EC
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Good bye for-profit fitness centers
Recently I had a brush with a corporately run gym and it was awful. Once before I thought about joining a Goodlife, but got turned off by the agressive marketing (i.e. calling my house every day after I had taken their facility tour). Otherwise I have stuck with the YMCA, which I worked for in Belleville and Peterborough and which I have found pretty chill, or whatever athletics club I had access to through school. I should point out now that I have no pretensions of being the fittest/thinnest/hawtest chick around. I like to be active, for about the last year I've run at least 20k per week, in high school I did Karate and I cheerleaded (I know, right!?). Buuuut I also like to eat. Cheese, bread, apple crisp with ice cream, avocado and red wine probably round out my list of top 10 favourite things ever. So anyways, fitness is part of a healthy, happy, balanced lifestyle for me but hardly an obsession. I'm comfortable with my body and I know if I ate less or worked out more I could look more like the Hollywood ideal, but thats hardly a priority.
So, our story begins in Sheppard-Yonge subway station a few weeks ago, where a peppy pair of young people are handing out free 10 day passes to Xtreme(!!!) fitness. I recently relocated to North York, I have more time on my hands after quitting one job and my U of T gym access expired, so it seemed like the perfect chance to do some free hot yoga and hit the treadmill when it's cold or rainy outside. A few days later I headed to the gym, feeling pretty motivated. First I had to wait around for a sales associate to be available. When I got to her office she gave me a little survey about my fitness goals and then launches into the membership sales routine. Having done a similar job at the YMCA I can see through her tactics, although it is significantly more aggressive and manipulative than what I was ever encouraged to do. We finally establish that, because I don't even know what country I'll be living in come September, I'm in no position to commit to a membership; "Yeah, you think your disappointed you should talk to my mom! I can just, like, do the 10 days though, right?" "Suuuuure, I guess." All this takes something like 35 minutes, but before I can go hit the treadmill I get roped into a fitness evaluation scheduled for early the next week.
Enter 5 days later. I show up late for said evaluation but everyone is still all smiles. I join Ryan in his office. Ryan is a sincere and sweet young trainer who has been well indoctrinated into the professionally muscular lifestyle at XTREEEME fitness. We go through my little lifestyle survey; "what are your goals?... and how will that, like, improve your life? How will YOU benefit... uh huh, uh huh" *scrawls notes*. He really got a kick out of my dislike for my 'muffin top'. We get to the nutrition and fitness section of the survey which is where things get judgy. In the 'how many alcoholic beverages do you consume per week?:' line I just wrote lots, which gets a pretty big eyebrow raise. Ryan says: "soooo like, 20+??" I say: "more like 15-20". Although considering a standard serving of beer is 12oz and a pint is 20oz Ryan was likely more on the mark here. We talk about my diet, "You eat out 5 times per week!! Thats tooo much" which makes me wonder if Ryan has any concept at all of how busy my life is and how unsatisfying of a meal a protein shake makes to the professionally not muscular. I love cheese, but generally I make an effort to eat a balanced diet. When I eat a meal without fruits or veg I am crippled by guilt. This doesn't seem to convince Ryan that I'm gonna survive past the age of 30.
Once we complete my survey Ryan starts taking my stats. While Ryan seems concerned with my weight I'm thrilled. "ooh that's about the same it was last time I weighed myself, in September, bitchin'!" He then sends a little electric current through my bare feet to take my body fat percentage. This is what reeeaally got me. I'm gonna over-share here and say my measured body fat is 25.5%, as this will be relevant later. He then measures my shoulders, biceps and hips. When he gets to my waste he puts the measuring at least 3 inches below my natural waste. As a girl with a pretty significant waste to hip ratio (Love Your Curves!!, thanks Cosmo), the circumference of my body 3 inches below my waste is quite a bit greater than at my natural waste. Something seems fishy here.
So then we talk about some long term goals. While I assumed Ryan would start with some ideas of parts of my body I would work on and small, achievable steps, he really just launches into all the reasons I NEEDNEEDNEED personal training. He starts by telling me that I will want to get my body fat down to 16%. I looked it up later, this is not strictly healthy for a lady, WHO (thats World Health Organization) says under 21% is underfat for a woman, and 21-33% is healthy. The American Exercise association says 14-21% is an athlete range for women (I'm NO athlete), 21-24% is 'fitness' and 25%-31% is acceptable. Ryan hardly made me feel acceptable. In addition, the little electric pulse machine is reported to overestimate body fat measurements, therefore, on a well hydrated day, I could easily fit into the AEA's 'fitness' level. SO there, Ryan!
Then, Ryan does the unthinkable and starts criticizing cardio! I love my runs, they make me feel great and I am really proud of how my running has improved and progressed over the last year. I know that cardio should be balanced with resistance training, but considering my priorities and my go-go-go lifestyle I can only do so much and I LOVE running. Ryan says cardio should only be about 20% of my workout! Jerk. I was really thrown by this but I realized later... trainers can't charge people while they do cardio, its a pretty solitary thing, so obviously they would undersell its importance and value.
Anyways, I dodged the personal training bill by saying I couldn't afford it and that I couldn't commit to anything long term blah blah blah. All in all a humiliating and disillusioning experience. I can see how this is a lucrative business model, making people feel like shit about their bodies and lifestyles so they will pay someone to fix it. I also realize that, once you get past the attack on your self esteem, personal training can be really effective in helping you to get results from your workouts and attain that toned/tanned cover of Oxygen magazine look. Also, if you are unhappy with how you look or if you do need someone to motivate you to be more healthy, personal training can, again, be effective. But this corporate gym attitude takes all the joy out of fitness, to me, and makes it a joyless, competitive and image-obsessed institution.
Feels good to get that out. See ya never, Ryan.
So, our story begins in Sheppard-Yonge subway station a few weeks ago, where a peppy pair of young people are handing out free 10 day passes to Xtreme(!!!) fitness. I recently relocated to North York, I have more time on my hands after quitting one job and my U of T gym access expired, so it seemed like the perfect chance to do some free hot yoga and hit the treadmill when it's cold or rainy outside. A few days later I headed to the gym, feeling pretty motivated. First I had to wait around for a sales associate to be available. When I got to her office she gave me a little survey about my fitness goals and then launches into the membership sales routine. Having done a similar job at the YMCA I can see through her tactics, although it is significantly more aggressive and manipulative than what I was ever encouraged to do. We finally establish that, because I don't even know what country I'll be living in come September, I'm in no position to commit to a membership; "Yeah, you think your disappointed you should talk to my mom! I can just, like, do the 10 days though, right?" "Suuuuure, I guess." All this takes something like 35 minutes, but before I can go hit the treadmill I get roped into a fitness evaluation scheduled for early the next week.
Enter 5 days later. I show up late for said evaluation but everyone is still all smiles. I join Ryan in his office. Ryan is a sincere and sweet young trainer who has been well indoctrinated into the professionally muscular lifestyle at XTREEEME fitness. We go through my little lifestyle survey; "what are your goals?... and how will that, like, improve your life? How will YOU benefit... uh huh, uh huh" *scrawls notes*. He really got a kick out of my dislike for my 'muffin top'. We get to the nutrition and fitness section of the survey which is where things get judgy. In the 'how many alcoholic beverages do you consume per week?:' line I just wrote lots, which gets a pretty big eyebrow raise. Ryan says: "soooo like, 20+??" I say: "more like 15-20". Although considering a standard serving of beer is 12oz and a pint is 20oz Ryan was likely more on the mark here. We talk about my diet, "You eat out 5 times per week!! Thats tooo much" which makes me wonder if Ryan has any concept at all of how busy my life is and how unsatisfying of a meal a protein shake makes to the professionally not muscular. I love cheese, but generally I make an effort to eat a balanced diet. When I eat a meal without fruits or veg I am crippled by guilt. This doesn't seem to convince Ryan that I'm gonna survive past the age of 30.
Once we complete my survey Ryan starts taking my stats. While Ryan seems concerned with my weight I'm thrilled. "ooh that's about the same it was last time I weighed myself, in September, bitchin'!" He then sends a little electric current through my bare feet to take my body fat percentage. This is what reeeaally got me. I'm gonna over-share here and say my measured body fat is 25.5%, as this will be relevant later. He then measures my shoulders, biceps and hips. When he gets to my waste he puts the measuring at least 3 inches below my natural waste. As a girl with a pretty significant waste to hip ratio (Love Your Curves!!, thanks Cosmo), the circumference of my body 3 inches below my waste is quite a bit greater than at my natural waste. Something seems fishy here.
So then we talk about some long term goals. While I assumed Ryan would start with some ideas of parts of my body I would work on and small, achievable steps, he really just launches into all the reasons I NEEDNEEDNEED personal training. He starts by telling me that I will want to get my body fat down to 16%. I looked it up later, this is not strictly healthy for a lady, WHO (thats World Health Organization) says under 21% is underfat for a woman, and 21-33% is healthy. The American Exercise association says 14-21% is an athlete range for women (I'm NO athlete), 21-24% is 'fitness' and 25%-31% is acceptable. Ryan hardly made me feel acceptable. In addition, the little electric pulse machine is reported to overestimate body fat measurements, therefore, on a well hydrated day, I could easily fit into the AEA's 'fitness' level. SO there, Ryan!
Then, Ryan does the unthinkable and starts criticizing cardio! I love my runs, they make me feel great and I am really proud of how my running has improved and progressed over the last year. I know that cardio should be balanced with resistance training, but considering my priorities and my go-go-go lifestyle I can only do so much and I LOVE running. Ryan says cardio should only be about 20% of my workout! Jerk. I was really thrown by this but I realized later... trainers can't charge people while they do cardio, its a pretty solitary thing, so obviously they would undersell its importance and value.
Anyways, I dodged the personal training bill by saying I couldn't afford it and that I couldn't commit to anything long term blah blah blah. All in all a humiliating and disillusioning experience. I can see how this is a lucrative business model, making people feel like shit about their bodies and lifestyles so they will pay someone to fix it. I also realize that, once you get past the attack on your self esteem, personal training can be really effective in helping you to get results from your workouts and attain that toned/tanned cover of Oxygen magazine look. Also, if you are unhappy with how you look or if you do need someone to motivate you to be more healthy, personal training can, again, be effective. But this corporate gym attitude takes all the joy out of fitness, to me, and makes it a joyless, competitive and image-obsessed institution.
Feels good to get that out. See ya never, Ryan.
Hello world
Hello,
So I decided to start a blog. I've never done this before because a) it seemed a tad self-indulgent and b) I didn't think of myself as terribly interesting or unique. My life's story since the 'blogosphere' became big can be effectively summed up in a twitter post; brainy/awkward/anxious girl has typical small-city high school experience. Girl moves to another small city, gets less awkward and anxious but more brainy with an undergrad chem degree, then goes to teachers college in a big city.
School, school and working so I can afford to go to school, to be even more concise.
But now I am finally reaching the end of my formal education. At least for now. It's been 19 years in the making and my God am I oooover it. While all this is certainly exciting for me, what I really want to share is the CRAZY adventure I'm going on this summer. It's called the Mongol Rally, and it is certainly not your typical grad trip. More posts about that are to come, and you can check out my team's website at http://mongolrally10.theadventurists.com/index.php?mode=teamwebsites&name=the-great-canadian-beavers.
Until the rally starts though, I'm going to use my newfound free time to write about my life. Please read and comment at your leisure :)
EC
So I decided to start a blog. I've never done this before because a) it seemed a tad self-indulgent and b) I didn't think of myself as terribly interesting or unique. My life's story since the 'blogosphere' became big can be effectively summed up in a twitter post; brainy/awkward/anxious girl has typical small-city high school experience. Girl moves to another small city, gets less awkward and anxious but more brainy with an undergrad chem degree, then goes to teachers college in a big city.
School, school and working so I can afford to go to school, to be even more concise.
But now I am finally reaching the end of my formal education. At least for now. It's been 19 years in the making and my God am I oooover it. While all this is certainly exciting for me, what I really want to share is the CRAZY adventure I'm going on this summer. It's called the Mongol Rally, and it is certainly not your typical grad trip. More posts about that are to come, and you can check out my team's website at http://mongolrally10.thead
Until the rally starts though, I'm going to use my newfound free time to write about my life. Please read and comment at your leisure :)
EC
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