Do you ever just mindlessly click this, or that, or this, stumbling through the Internet searching out motivation? It’s something I’m certainly guilty of, something I spend weigh (tehehe) more time on than necessary, and something that I absolutely love (l.o.v.e.).
Good before and after photos (&/or stories) —> oh how excited they make me!
Whether it’s five pounds, one hundred pounds or new found created abs, I get this wave of emotion sweep over me, a wave of pure motivation from this random stranger on my screen. And as my eyes dart back and forth making the comparisons, my mind races:
I can do that! Look at them! What if I did that? My oh my how exciting that would be. Just look at them! They look so good! Good for them. I want to be them. I wonder if I can do that? Yes! Yes, I don’t see why not…
And it’s the real life stories I love: real life bloggers, real life profiles, actual, regular people in this world of ours. It’s the real stories in magazines, the real people holding their old pants proudly up, the real, "I did it! Wa-freaking-hoo!”, people. It’s them I love reading about.
And besides my whole obsession with weight loss (hush, we shall not speak of that), I think what I love most about regular people who lose weight is that I know each, and everyone of them had an ‘ah-ha moment.’ Not a fleeting moment, but a real, true, this-is-it, final moment and somehow found motivation from within themselves to finally, for real, change their lives.
Take, for example, these fine folks. At some point they were unhappy. At some point they made a decision. At some point they decided. They committed. And then they all actually did it. And I have no doubt in my mind it was a crazy, hard, awful battle, but still, they did it. No gun pointed to their head, no celebrity chef, or paid for gym, no upcoming movie premier, no reality TV show, no press… just them and their decision, their decision of, ‘this is it.’
I want to be one of them.
I want to have a moment that lasts forever.
A final, real life, moment.
The thing is.
I find real life weight loss stories so helpful, so inspiring, and you better believe I’d love to be one of them, but sadly as the days, weeks, years are passing I fear it may not be in my cards. Maybe a bikini on a beach was just not meant to be… maybe I am simply not strong enough? And I then I worry. I worry that through this little blog of mine, all I’m doing is showing people just how difficult and hard and not possible weight loss is. Sometimes I wonder…
A moment, a single, real life moment, a final moment pulled from within - that is what I’m searching for, hoping for, need.
I’ll start with: I can’t believe I actually did it. I can’t believe I’m actually typing this from a little coffee shop in Melbourne, Australia. Australia! I can’t believe all of my goals, hopes, dreams, everything, became a reality in the last year.
When I was 8 or 9 I knew I wanted to travel. I knew I wanted to see the places, things and people this world had to offer. In high school I would sit in class and daydream about leaving the world I knew. I’d lay in bed at night and dream big, placing myself in a far off corner of the world, just a backpack, camera, and myself walking the streets of a land I’d never been before. The desire to travel, this desire to see the world has been embedded in me since I can remember, and then finally, this past year, everything became a reality.
I suppose part of me never doubted it would happen. The dream of the whole thing was simply too big, rooted too deep into my soul for me not to listen to it. Not going was never an option because the regret of it simply would have been too big. And so last September, breath held, backpack packed, and camera charged, I leaped into the world and gave up everything I knew to head into the great unknown.
And the unknown it was. Lesson One: The world is an incredible, huge place (emphasis on ‘huge’). The actual, physical beauty it offers with its diverse landscapes is, for lack of a better term, mind blowing. And it’s size, my God, its size. I’m pretty sure I could travel for the rest of my life and barely touch on the amazingness that this Earth has to offer. With all its nooks ‘n caves and golden beaches ‘n breathtaking little ‘n big scenaries, it’s simply astonishing and I, for one, am happy I live in a time of jumbo planes and annual leave.
Lesson Two: The more you travel, the more you want to travel. I am ready to settle down, I am. I am ready to get my photos developed and buy cute, charming things for a real, actual, house. But. But my thirst to travel has only been teased. I feel like the last year has shown me how huge the world is and made me want more-more-more. Sometimes I feel anxiety come on because I feel I won’t have enough time to travel all of Australia! I stand humbled by my trip and in awe of this beautiful world we live in and just want to see, and do more!
A year later I’m a better version of myself. Lesson three: travelling will change you. And lesson four: I am braver and stronger than I give myself credit for. I’ve learnt so many things about places, people and myself, and have no doubt many more lessons will come with hindsight. I’m a more confident person in nearly all aspects of my life now. And I’ve learnt what environments I do well in, and what things and places I don’t like. I know how to read people better, and fear the unknown a great amount less. I’ve learnt the value of a dollar in Singapore, and seen the value of a dollar (or twenty) to a family in Cambodia (that was one of my favourite moments the entire trip). I’ve learnt what it means to be a minimalist, and how unimportant (or perhaps even embarrassing) obsessing over things such as being overweight is.
Lesson Five: There is no such thing as a good lifestyle or bad lifestyle, as long as its owner is happy and content. You often hear people who have just returned from travelling say the cliché thing, “and even though they were so poor, everyone was so happy,” and I have to co-sign this statement. From the Himalayas in Nepal, to the fields of Thailand, to beaches of Indonesia, a happy man is a happy man because he chooses to be happy. Lesson Six: There is zero correlation with a person’s wealth and happiness. (And Lesson Seven, while we’re noting correlations, there is zero correlation between an area’s economic status and the speed of the Internet. The best Internet I had my entire trip was 3,000+ feet into the sky in Nepal, and in a small village in Vietnam.)
Lesson Eight: A tourist is a tourist is a tourist. “Leave the beaten path, take the path less travelled, don’t be a sheep, etc.” It’s all easier said than done when a language barrier and unfriendly faces stand before you. The colour of one’s skin and the accent in their voice plays a huge role in this. To a local person, in a foreign land, you are a tourist no ifs, ands, or buts. Without doubt the most surreal moment of my whole trip was when I stayed for a few nights on a floating village in Thailand: every morning everyone in the village switched out of their Nike shorts and into their old, worn clothes and other traditional Thai garb as the tourists pulled up in boats. They would cover up their flat screen tvs, video games, chainsaws, generators, turn off the wireless Internet and go out and beg the tourists for money or try to sell imported “hand crafted” jewelry to them. Of course they were still living in open air huts above water (a village that has been there for over a hundred years), but as I’m sure you can imagine, it was a bit odd seeing 50 inch LCD TVs with satellites that ran on generators in this little, floating village. And then, of course, the tourists would come through each day and have absolutely no idea this little village was a show - a business. This made me really reconsider the reality of several places I visited in the previous few months, and of course this story leads me back to lesson eight, a tourist is a tourist, is a tourist.
Lesson nine: People are generally good. With the exception of the old lady who tried to steal all of my money in Vietnam, on the whole I came out of my trip thinking humans are kind, generous, wonderful creatures. From locals to fellow travelers, I loved getting to meet new people, hearing new stories, and sharing mine with whomever was listening. I found strangers were likely always willing to help me out, and how a smile goes a long, long way, as does taking the time to share something you know or help someone out.
Lesson ten: Travelling is awesome. Lesson Eleven. Travelling is hard. Lesson Twelve: Travelling alone is harder. So many lessons here, but yes. Travelling is fantastic. I will vouch for seeing new places until I’m blue in the face, but it’s also hard work. Know that. I think when you travel for months you’re expected to “make every day count!” Hell, you want to make every day count, but you get tired, you find your self in small towns with nothing to do, you get homesick, lonely, bored… It is hard. I know last time I wrote a post on this people hit me up in the comments saying I wasn’t grateful, but I promise you when you’re moving around so much you need your quiet beach day, or do nothing but stay in bed days. It’s hard work travelling, way harder than I thought it would be and I think the added variable of being alone made it even harder for me. Also, you’re always on the move and want to see and do as much as possible, which means naps are sometimes crucial! :)
Lesson Thirteen: You don’t need a lot of money to travel. Travel is a wonderful thing because it can be done on $5 a day, or a $5,000 a day, it doesn’t really have a budget, but rather a comfort level. In Vietnam I met an Irish bloke who was travelling the world for a year on 5,000 pounds, which meant when it came down to a 20 cents difference for air conditioning or a fan (when it was sweaty-hot out), he would choose the fan. I, on the other hand, would choose the air-con, and would personally always like to be in a position where I can choose the air-con. If you’re limited with money, my preference would be to travel for a shorter amount of time. Travelling yet not being able to actually see or do anything because of money isn’t too much fun, but don’t let money limit you. (Obviously) I am a huge believer in spending money on experiences as I’ve always (oh God, this is sooooo lame) thought I wanted to die with a story, not a load of cash, and so I’m pretty willing to spend money on seeing and doing things. I also have to mention the saying, “the best things in life are free,” is oh-so-very true. Most of my favourite memories from the last year were because of the people I was surrounded by, or scenery I was seeing for, well, free!
Lesson Fourteen: Document your journey. Blog, Facebook, Tweet, write postcards, keep a leather bound diary. I blogged (obvs) during my trip, as well as kept a diary and I am so pleased I did! It’s amazing how easily the little moments can so easily leave your memory. I also kept a sayings notepad with me and simply reading the random sentences on there takes me right back to that place and time and often leaves me laughing out loud. Also, I think capturing a great photo is part of the excitement of travelling. Truth be told, I only ended up with about five photos I “love!” from my entire trip, but still, I will keep trying.
Lesson Fifteen: Travelling abroad will teach you about home. I’m certain this entire point will be a post of its own in the coming days, but my God, it really did take leaving Toronto and everything I had to realize how amazing I once had it. I’m sure some people will think that’s a stupid, snobby, whatever thing to say, but I look back on Toronto so differently now to when I lived there. I’ve come to really realize the importance of a network, having my sister and family so close, and a life that is rooted deep. I really, really learnt how life, my life, isn’t at all about the place I live, but rather the community I create for myself. I want a good Monday to Friday, I know that now. I believe that that is what life is about. Yes, the weekends will always be great. Yes, planned vacations will always be awesome. But life is about the routine of it all, having ‘your people,’ creating a life you don’t constantly want to leave for a vacation.
Travel is an adventure, a transformation - as this past year so easily proves. It was a year of crazy, energizing, exhausting, exciting and terrifying tales and emotions, and I am so, so thrilled I finally, actually did it. Go me!
Also, I kid you not, but the below quote helped me kick start this trip, so it seems fitting to place it here :)
"For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.”
*not in the cool way, but in the I am still in bed way
I never realized how much I hate doctors until now. I’d attempt to get ready to go, even look up a cab number, but could then never actually bring myself to go
I miss being home right now. Having those people in my life I know I could ask for help without bothering them. But, that being said, people friends here in Melbourne have been so nice, and so willing, but I just feel too bad asking someone to help
I miss Matt. He’s in Adelaide this week, and then I leave for Perth next weekend. Two weeks without him and it’s day 2 and I already miss him. So there’s that.
I keep crying for no reason.
I have watched more TV since Friday than I thought possible. The highlight, of course, being the new Downton Abbey.
I was up every half hour on the hour last night. Stupid body, I hate you right now.
I called a nurse hotline today and she told me the liter of lemonade I drank in the last 24 hours was the worst thing I could have done for my stomach. This goes against everything I knew about being sick.
The phone nurse also asked me on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad my stomach pain was. I answered 11. She then said going to a dr wasn’t necessary. Hmmm. Wonder what number you have to say to get her to say yes.
I was lying on my back and (this is sooooo gross) a worm fell on my chest from the roof. I can’t even… I have no idea where, how, what, exactly happened, but I feel so violated and the sanctuary that is my bed has been taken away from me.
Six weddings this weekend on my facebook. Beat that.
Dr. Internet has failed me. I’ve been searching my symptoms constantly, but can’t narrow is down past three things.
I am taking tomorrow off. Tomorrow I will go to the doctor.
And tomorrow I will stop feeling sorry for myself.
Friday: Leave work on Friday. High five self because it’s the weekend. Crossfit. Shower. Beautify self. Date night with Matt before he leaves for Adelaide.
Saturday: 15km run. Crossfit. Brunch with crossfit peeps. Home. Shower. Wear a pretty dress. Coffee in a cafe to catch up on emails. Dinner with a friend to plan my Perth trip.
See? I had an excellent, I’m-really-looking-forward-to-this weekend set up. And then bamn. I got sick. Friday around 1pm was when it hit me. Like, the world paused for a moment while a knife stabbed my insides a thousand and one times. I’d have to keel over. Hold myself. And wait for it to pass.
So some mumbled words to my boss & a $30 cab ride home later I was in bed, curled up in a ball, and ready to die, or at least give in to the pain inside of me. It’s now 6pm on Saturday and nothing much has changed. Except I can now officially say I’m an ‘active person.’ The guilt of missing my run and crossfit this morning has been huge today - perhaps worse than the pain in my stomach…. I know, it’s ridiculous, but despite being sick, and in severe pain, I felt so lazy and useless all day.
I’m starting to think people are right… I’m starting to think I’m too hard on myself.
So yup. This is my fun, 1 year anniversary since I left Toronto, weekend. Fun, eh? I think if the pain doesn’t subside (and stop trying to kill me every 10 minutes, or so (I’ve been throwing up from the pain, and I think I even blacked out in the cab ride when the pain hit) I’ll have to head to a doctor soon (I’ve been trying to avoid it due to not being a resident/citizen and not having much $$).
Will keep you posted little Blog, and of course I need to say a HUGE thank you to Matt. So, thank you sooooo much Matt. He went to the pharmacy for me, got me water when I asked, and lay with me for hours and hours while he rubbed my belly - cool, apparently I’m over that now :)
People. Which is ironic because my last post was about people sucking. But I was overwhelmed by the number of emails I received, text messages from friends, Tumblr messages, and calls – thank you. The Internet really stepped up to the plate yesterday and the goodness in people easily overshadowed the dark. I try not to let a bad day define my life, or let people who don’t know me yet pass judgement on me, get to me, but I suppose at the end of the day I’m human.
And yea, I am more than aware having a blog and sharing so much online will have consequences… truth be told I believe I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to Internet trolls, but for whatever reason, the comments this week cut deep (Also, I should note the comments I was referring to, were from a post last week which was linked in / not the recent food posts - I have no problem with people giving me advice). They touched on something I was already very self conscious of, and with the combination of being a little home sick, stressed, and having a bad work out, I just had a moment, which, of course, lead to a big old blog post about it, because that’s how I roll.
But thank you. So much. I am feeling so much better today and am ready to redeem myself tonight at crossfit.
More Random Goodness from this day.
Skype. So this Saturday, September 22 will be exactly 1 year since I left Toronto and boarded a one-way plane to Berlin. Ummm, whoa. So much has happened this past year it be impossible to put in into words, but without a doubt I can say there is no way I would have got through it without the constant Skype calls home (I talk to my mom and/or sister nearly every single day). Lots of things amaze me, and having my family & friends on the other side of the world a mere call away never ceases to ah-maze me & and make me happy.
Perth. I am going to Perth in, oh I don’t know, 9 days – wahoo! I’ve been working for nearly 4 months straight and cannot wait for warmer weather, golden beaches, wine on patios, and doing nothing but waking up late, driving the coast and enjoying life.
The Boyfriend. I think by “lame point,” you mean, “coooooool point.” I can’t believe Matt is still around. Especially as it appears I am crazy-crazy lately. I can’t write too much on this point, but I will say it’s an awful-awful thing being in a relationship with a defined, set, government-enforced, ending. I didn’t know it was this possible to feel & be this comfortable with another human being, but it is, and I am happy, and at some point I am going to be so, so sad, but until then I’m just enjoying the wonderfulness that Matt provides while I have him a bum grab away.
Melbourne. This city. My God, this city. There is a reason this city is consistently voted most liveable city in the world. The best way to describe Melbourne is it is a true “people city.” Running paths, alley ways, graffiti art, special, cute, something-special areas, transit system (I’ve never felt the need for a car here), the trees, wide roads, hidden restaurants, beaches… I could go on, but I’ll spare you. I am thrilled I moved to this place and feel so lucky I get to call it home (even if it’s just for a little bit).
Me: Can this be a point? Well, it’s going to be. I know I complain n’ write, about wanting to lose weight, getting upset, and wanting to change this or that, but I like myself, I do. I say this for two reasons. 1. Y’know how I moved house recently? Well the reason I moved was this: I found out my two roommates were taking advanatge of me. I was paying over 50% of the rent when there were three people and I had the tinest room ever. I like how I know I could never do that to someone, I like how I could and would never purposely screw somone over for my own, personal benefit. And 2: I have never in my life left a mean comment on someone’s blog, or wrote a nasty email. Sure, there are people/blogs I don’t like, but I like how I don’t like being mean and know I would never take the time to put someone down.
That’s it for me (for now), regular blogging will resume in 3, 2, 1… but until then, THANK YOU!!
There was this girl at crossfit yesterday who annoyed me. A lot. God, even thinking about her now annoys me so much. She was useless. And fat. And she couldn’t even do one skipping double under, out of the 200 that was expected. The 200 that everyone else could do. Including the new people.
And then on her last round she cried. So weak. Everyone had finished, and everyone was watching. And she broke down and cried. She didn’t want to finish. She couldn’t do any, and she knew how terrible, fat, useless she was, and so she cried. And cried. I suppose she didn’t know what else to do.
Eventually she finished and headed for the last part of the workout; the run. And a lonely run she ran. Still crying, of course. And it was on that run she felt her bad day consume her being. And she thought of the mean comments, the emails, the words she had read that day. And she kept crying. And crying.
And then she slowed to a walk and with people on the street blatantly seeing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks, she felt like she was faking her life. Like she didn’t deserve anything. She didn’t earn anything. That she was a sh*tty writer/blogger, a lazy person, a fat, weak, slow, unfit person, that she had no career, money, or plan. That she had failed, at whatever it was she was doing.
I cried all the way home yesterday. On the tram. On my walk. And then in the shower. And I felt the embarrassment sting hard from crossfit. And yesterday’s comments… they were mean, and it’s hard not to read them, especially when they came in over and over again and were confirming something I often wondered. I deleted nearly 150. 150 people who had taken the time to wear me down. And they did.
And it’s easy to say don’t let it get to you. Turn the other cheek. It means nothing… But it did. Yesterday was a hard day, but despite still feeling my puffy face sting, today is a new day, with a new start, and so I trudge on.
I know I shouldn’t have carbs in the morning. I know food that is low fat is not neccessarily healthy. I know I should have protein in the mornings. I know…
But from trial n’ error I’ve learned I’m not going to wake up early to make the perfect breakfast. I know I’m not going to always have time to prep food the night before. I know that when I bring hard boiled eggs to work they smell. I know the above cinamon, raisin 178 calories cumpet, is something I look forward to. It’s something that’s easy. Somthing that’s cheap. And yes, it actually does keep me content until lunch time. It’s realistic. For me. And no I’m not perfect. And yes, when I can, I’ll make eggs n’ bacon, and do all things right, but that’s not real life for me. And I know it’s unrealistic to think otherwise.
And I try with my lunches, I really do. Yesterday’s post showing the can of soup was about a once every two month event - I was too busy at work to make a salad. Sometimes, y’know, that happens. And I know the above is a good lunch. A real lunch. A protein and veggies healthy lunch. But sometimes, a 6” Subway sandwhich, or can of soup will have to do. And I know cooking my veggies in the microwave takes away their nutrients, but that was my only option today. I tried. I am trying.
And I know 1,200 is too low. I said that in that post. And I tried to input my exercise, “crossfit,” but it was nowhere to be found. Today (and going forward) I’m working off 1,400. And I’m not perfect, and sometimes I choose easy choices, and I’m learning, and trying, and that’s all I can say & ask myself to do.
[ps. thank you for the comments - I learned a lot about figuring out my calorie intake from them :) ]
Day 1. Hour 12 of My Fitness Pal. I’m currently sitting at 508 calories of 1,200 consumed (after lunch). I am shocked and appalled at how quickly everything (cough even my coffees cough) add up. But I like the system and plan on putting forth a valiant effort in being a regular user of it. (My username is: OneTwentyFive)
Sooo, I looked up The Kate Middleton photos. Yes, I’m a perve like that. Shocking how her boobs look like, well, boobs! I’m not quite sure what to make of the whole thing, yes it’s awful her privacy was invaded like that and I really felt so sorry for her, but at the same time, she can’t have her cake, and eat it too. Tanning topless is something I’d put on the, ‘gotta give up if you’re the Duchess’ list.
Perth in 12 days! Oh-happy-day I am excited, excited, excited! We (Anna and I) are planning on road tripping the coast, drinking wine, running, doing crossfit, finding the sun, and taking naps.
Christmas in 99 days! I can’t quite get around the thought of a hot Christmas. This will also be my first Christmas ever away from The Fam – can’t lie, kinda freaking out about this.
28 days to my Half Marathon!
I’m on episode 10 (season 1) of Suits. Get on it people, I promise the acting gets better as the show rolls along. Speaking of mindless TV, any new shows for me? C’mon North America, help someone in Australia (the land of oh-so-very-behind) out?
I have five crossfit sessions, and three runs planned this week (with 2 days off). Doesn’t that sound so impressive? The key will be to not eat everything in sight. Shall keep you posted.
I saw Rufus Wainwright on Saturday night. And? He was incredible. I had actually bought the tickets forever ago for Matt’s bday, but then he couldn’t go so I put the 2nd ticket up on Gumtree (equivalent of Craigslist here), and ended up making a new friend. I was awfully nervous, but it turned out SO WELL. I love you Internet.
I’m also entering ‘Save Every Dollar’ mode. I took a gander at my bank account this morning. Holy. Whoa. Must. Save. Money.
I’ve been staring at a white screen for ages and ages. I want to write, but nothing seems to sound right when I tap my fingers against the keys. Hmmm. It’s 3pm on a Saturday. I have wet hair, a messy room, have run 13k this morning, attended a crossfit session, ate brunch with some of my favourites, and I’m currently doing my laundry, debating a nap, seeing Rufus Wainwright tonight, thinking about going shopping to buy myself something pretty -shoes?, getting my nose re-pierced and, and I weighed myself a mere moment ago and the number was a good one, a new one.
I think it’s safe to say I have found my legs again in Melbourne. My running, and life legs. Like, down time is not lonely time anymore. I potter about my room, or house, or life and am just so happy and content. I am also really pleased with how my 1/2 marathon schedule is going. My goal was to simply do it under 2.5 hours, but now I’m thinking I should try push myself to beat my PB (2:17). Hmmmm. And Matt is awesome. I like him. He even brought me flowers yesterday for no reason. And my housemates are lovely. And sometimes I even look forward to Mondays because I love the project I’m working on. And…
And it’s weird moving to a new country and setting yourself up a new life. In the beginning it’s hard, and rough, and everything is half-assed. But now, nearly 8 months in, I feel I’m moving through the ‘half-ass’ zone, and into the real, established, life zone, and it is good. Real good.
On Monday night, after The Crossfit, I was in the grocery store and my tummy was a growling.
Rookie mistake that is - shopping when you’re hungry. But nonetheless I was walking the aisles, picking n’ choosing, and choosing n’ picking healthy things for my dinners this week. But what about dinner that night? I was hungry, and the thought of a salad, or veggies and meat was oh-so-very not appealing. Plus, I was lazy. Always so lazy. And I knew I wanted something delicious, and tasty and oh-my-god who cares about weight and health and yes, that’s it, I’m gonna get me a pizza. And so I strolled quite confidently over to the frozen pizza section, all bold, and proud, in a ‘whatever, I don’t care, I want a pizza’ mode. I stood there for a minute or two, eyeing the cheesy, delicious looking pizzas, trying to decide which one I wanted when suddenly, out of nowhere, I said OUT LOUD, “No Liz. No.”
Now the story would stop there had I not seen a dude down the aisle look over at me and chuckle. Ugh. There I was, staring at frozen pizzas and talking to myself out loud about not eating pizza. And of course I’m certain he knew exactly what happened too, and so head down and red faced, and I hurried down the aisle and out of his sight.
So yup. There’s that. Apparently I am now talking to myself out loud in grocery stores. My future cats would be so proud.
I have a question. Well, I’ve actually had this question for a very long time. I already know it’ll have varying answers, depending on the way it’s asked and the group you ask it to… but,
What are your thoughts on social media and exercise – is it inspiring, or annoying?
My question was sparked a few weeks ago by the below status update (let’s ignore the “woman” part - as obviously that is ridiculous)
And I have to admit, I have thought the same thing many times over; is it really necessary to post about every trip to the gym, or every run on a training schedule? I want to say no. But then again, I have also been out on a run and used that silly, little, Facebook update as motivation for myself to get through it. I’m pretty sure I ran the last 5k of the Chicago Marathon thinking of options for my FB status - I was proud of myself and I wanted to share it.
But then there are the people who post literally every, single, thing, they do when it comes to exercise. A few weeks back I saw someone post about running a 5k… it was their 4th 5k that week and I have to admit I didn’t slightly care (they run all the time). Of course I realize a 5k is a big deal for some people (it was once a HUGE deal for me), which means I’m inclined to think the status update annoyingness level would depend on the person: Your first 5k? Awesome. Post away. Your billionth random run? Not okay.
Personally, I don’t often mingle exercise & facebook (umm hi there, because I have a blog where I can be all like, “look at me! Look at me! I ran 5km,”), which means only huge accomplishments grace my FB wall (20k+ runs / CF weight PBs – if that). Also, in a world where there are so many outlets to post your accomplishments, I think a simple trip to the gym isn’t anything to write home about… on your twitter, facebook, Instagram, etc. especially when there are specific social media outlets for exercise (like Daily Mile and blogs).
So yup. As you can see my thoughts on this question are a little all over the place; sometimes I’m so happy for someone getting out there and doing something, but other times I find a status update/post so annoying.
What are your thoughts on this - are constant exercise updates annoying, or inspiring?
Had you met me in high school, or university, or when I lived in that pretty apartment in Toronto with all my sky high heels and fabulous outfits, I’d assume you would have described me as a lady who liked her things.
Pretty, expensive, fabulous things.
And I did.
I don’t think I’ve ever been extremely materialistic, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an extra swagger in my step when I had bought new outfits, my Burberry jacket, or heels that cost four figures (what the what? seriously Old Liz. Seriously).
And then I left home.
And then I had to pick n’ choose and decide what to bring. It was hard. Really, really hard. But somehow I figured it out. And then somehow, well I suppose I know how, from traveling, and moving around constantly, and seeing extreme poverty & how things have no correlation to one’s happiness, and better understanding the person I am and what makes me happy, I learnt (or by default, was forced), to let go of that ‘I feel better about myself because I own ______’ feeling I once got.
I’m not saying I don’t still like fabulous, pretty, new things (see below, I do), but I also without a doubt know I could be stripped to the bare minimum in life and still be quite content. Like, if my suitcases were lost forever, I don’t (with the except of my marathon medals) think I would really care).
It’s a nice feeling. A nice feeling knowing material things mean absolutely nothing to you.
And on that note, this is my room (one becomes quite organized when they move around a lot). It’s not glamorous, or fancy, or anything like that, but I really, really like this little space in Melbourne I get to call home.
(Yes, that is a Tumblr tote on the back of my door. They sent it to me for my awesomeness (ha… actually as an apology for not putting me on the spotlight sooner. Nice folks those Tumblr people are)
(I brought so many silly things with me from Toronto. I’ve hardly worn any of this stuff!)
I go through a lot of hair ties and yes, I swear by Dior makeup (Fun fact: At home Dior eye shadow is $52. In Melbourne it’s $110)
(There’s a whole other half to my room, but as my bed is unmade, and hair needs to be dried, I’ll leave that for another day).
Today was a good day. No, wait, this week was a good week. Or actually, this month was a good month. It’s odd having a blog, sometimes I feel this weird pressure to have fireworks & explosions of cool stuff going on, but today, this week, this past month nothing out of the ordinary has happened, nothing to write home about, but I’ve been happy, so happy.
I am content.
I haven’t been content in a long time. When I lived in Toronto, I was always looking for something bigger, something greater, something more awesome. Of course part of my whole trip and move was sparked by that feeling. That feeling of there is something better out there… something I must find.
But for the past little bit in Melbourne I’ve been so happy. Like it just feels right. Like nothing exciting or out of the ordinary is on my horizon, and I go about my everydays, one after the other, just like everybody else. And I work hard at my job, go to crossfit, get my runs in, go grocery shopping, have date nights with my boyfriend, and girl nights with my friends. And I am happy. Really f*cking happy. And life is good.
But the best of of my happiness is I know where it’s stemmed from. And oh-how-corny-this-will-sound, but it’s completely from within. I don’t think it has to do with Melbourne, or my job, my great girlfriends, or even Matt, it’s simply from realizing what I want out of life, and how the ordinary life of a routine, and having a coffee shop, and a certain tram, and being friendly and meeting new people, while surrounded by good company, is what I want from my life.
I also think this is why my weight hasn’t moved too much lately. Despite wanting to be smaller (trust me, I want my old clothes back soooo badly) I am still happy. It’s harder to lose weight when you’re content with your life, when you’re strolling down the street holding your boyfriend’s hand and he points to the gelato store. In that moment of time, walking down the street trying the other person’s gelato flavour will always trump the ‘I want to be skinny’ card. I suppose that’s the problem. At some point it’ll have to change, but it’s hard when you’re happy, when life is good, when that extra bit of weight doesn’t seem to matter that much at all.
I don’t know where exactly my fingers are going with this, just that today was a good day, and I brought a new scarf, and Matt built me Ikea drawers, and I am now getting ready for another week of work, crossfit, friend dates, and runs, and that greatly pleases me despite there being no “fireworks & explosions” because I think I’ve finally figured out what life is about to me... and it’s not about weight, or what you look like, where you live in this world, or anything like that, but about the community you create for yourself. It’s about your every days, and your people, and your places, and the regular little things that give you great pleasure.
I am starting to feel overwhelmed in my hood of life. I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m busy, or important, or anything, but still, those little life things are adding up. Crossfit tonight | lease signing | room organizing | grocery shopping | baking something for morning tea tomorrow (it’s my turn) | Ikea draw buying | emailing (I am so far behind!). See? Nothing too important, yet I have that stupid feeling of TOO MUCH TO DO & TOO LITTLE TIME.
Last night Matt and I went to Trivia. I am sooooo bad at trivia, Matt totally carried our team, but still, it was fun. Also, for Melbourne people, **new awesome bar alert.** For reals. It’s AWESOME and brand new, and if I have enough friends when my birthday rolls around (doubtful), this is the bar I would force them to go to. It’s called The Alehouse Project (98 Lygon Street, Brunswick East) and you should leave right now and go. GOO! Their beer garden is magical, and their board game collection warms my soul (and I’m sure Matt would argue their beers on tap are great too).
I haven’t done physical exercise since Sunday. SUNDAY! I know I moved and was busy and all, but still, I FEEL SOOOOOO GUILTY. And I’ve been eating so poorly. I was looking into a nutritionist this morning, but honestly, there is no secret code, I just, have, to, do, it.
11km run this Saturday. My “long runs” for the half marathon are getting, well, looonnnnggg. I am nervy. (Hi Amy! I’m excited to run with you!!)
So, I have this weird thing where I HAVE to use the exact, same toilet stall if I frequent a public washroom more than once. This includes at work. It’s weird, and I’ve always done it, and I’ll wait it out if need be. I have this weird reasoning there is less chance of catching new germs, as I probably already have the ones from that stall.
I am blown away by the Paralympics – simply amazing.
The Bachelor Pad… I’m embarrassed I’m not embarrassed I am fully up to date on this show.
I am wearing lots of layers today. Remember when layers came in? Pretty sure I was 19 at the time, and it was the best thing to ever happen to my tubby, fashionista self. I was always so nervous layers would leave the fashion scene, but here I am, nearly 9 years later, still rocking layers and fooling people into thinking I’m skinnier than I am. Moooohahahahahah <— evil laugh
For the first time, in a long time, I feel okay about money. My goal when moving to Australia was to a) not slip into my Canadian money (I came to AUS with $3000 Aus dollars), and b) be a self functioning individual. Well, nearly 8 months later I can happily say I did it (so far). It hasn’t been easy, and I’ve had to pass on a lot of dinners out, pretty heels, and buying lunches, but wahoo! I’ve just pushed through a milestone savings mark and it feels so good. (I was under about AUS$500 for a while, living paycheck to paycheck).
Does anyone else pick at their split ends? No? Oh, this is awkward… cool life.
I told the girl next to me my coffee has exactly 71 calories (because I’m weird and worked it out), and she goes, “is that a lot? I have no sense of calories or anything like that.” And in that moment of time I WAS SO JEALOUS OF HER.
I’m on the verge of hitting 2,000,000 page views so far in 2012 – thank YOU!
Fun fact: Did you know if you leave low fat cheese out the fridge for a few hours, it tastes like REAL cheese. #TheThingsYouLearnWhenYouMove
Okay. This was random. And long. And not intended.
I was so torn. Part of me wanted to turn around and say, “I’M NOT FAT. I’M BIG BONED.” (which is a total lie) But then another part of me wanted to turn around and say, “YOU THINK I’M FIT? I LOVVVVVEEE YOUUUUU”