Category Archives: This one time

Dragonboating Race Day

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20130317-192858.jpgSo. It’s been a busy weekend. After a busy week, we dove straight into a weekend of sport and fitness!

Yesterday was dragon boating race day. The whole reason for our trainings. D-day. THE day.

5 races, against 2-4 other teams in each one.

The first race, a practice run, was fantastic – we came a good second, and we were leaps and bounds ahead of our previous times. Morale was boosted, and we were all excited about actually being in with a chance of placing in the social league.

From the second race, morale quickly declined. The weather changed and our coordination went with it. In each of our next four races, we ended up beyond our own lane. In our final (read: race for last place) we missed the finish line and ended up out in Wellington harbour. Oops.

Despite the terrible results, we had so much fun! Wellingtonians (and other teams) were rooting for us – complete strangers. Turns out that everyone does love an underdog!
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So will I join a team again? If the opportunity arises, then most definitely YES!

Don’t let our placing fool you – this stuff is fun! Sure, losing sucks. I had my sulk at the end of the day, but I got over it. Even when we ended up in the harbour in our last race, the whole team was laughing (with the spectators).

We all enjoyed ourselves.
And next year, we know what to do differently.

Remember guys; we’re striving for progress, not perfection!

Where Are The Boundaries?

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Sorry, sorry, I know this should be a post about our second boot camp session and the new things our trainer had us doing (post to come), but it isn’t.

This post is simply sharing an ad I came across while flicking through an unnamed women’s fitness magazine.

Said advertisement:
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My question – with reference to the above ad – is: how far is too far?

Do you think ads like this in general fitness magazines cross a line?
Is there even a line that can be crossed?

I’ll Be Good Tomorrow

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Surprisingly for a fat kid, I never understood why women on American TV shows would chomp through a tub of ice cream when emotions turned to the stormy and grey (commonly known as ‘crap’). Even before dairy became a pain in my butt digestive system.

But today it makes sense.

Today’s uncontrollable, silent, angry tears on the bus fell somewhere on the embarrassment between Janet Jackson’s nipple display and the time my grandmother told me to stop walking funny and change my sanitary pad in the middle of KMart while handing me a surfboard like object in a pink wrapper (I was 15, and not on my period).

So it was either chocolate ice cream or scotch. Since the good scotch ran out a while ago, I raided the freezer for some sweet frozen no-dairy chocolate flavoured soy goodness. It worked a treat (ha! Get it? Ice cream’s a treat).

Side-splitting humour. We bring it to the table (along with over-sized spoons for shovelling that chocolate delight).

Yeah… I’ll eat better tomorrow.
#famouslastwords

Just Do It?

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On the train from Seattle to Portland a little girl sitting at the back of the carriage sang the whole way. It was happy singing, the kind that makes you smile and get back to your book, rather than want to hurl a shoe in her general direction (note the use of want, if you ever actually acted on this you’d be a dick. She’s two. Jeez). Every now and then she turned to potty musings, breaking the lyrics about her mum and stuffed dog with the things she liked to do on the potty.

While I won’t share her actual lyrics, I will share the story it prompted from my neighbour.

My neighbour’s husband had always wondered what it was like for kids and using nappies (diapers), not remembering what it was like when he was it that situation. Afterall, who does?

So he and his mates wore adult nappies to a bar where they proceeded to drink beer until they couldn’t physically fit any more down. When the time came – and we all know what time that is – they all looked at each other, gave the eyebrow raise and a nod.

All used their nappies.
At the bar.
At same time.

Grown adults.
Full bladders.

Of course, the diapers couldn’t hold it all. There was a massive mess and the group had made half a dozen puddles on the floor.

With wet pants and heads hanging low, the group left the bar leaving a dripping trail behind them.

So, if you have ever considered trying something similar…you might want to rethink that. The experiment has been done!

And if you haven’t… Giggle away! We did.

America: Three Hormone Spurred Gripes

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WARNING: The post contains a lot (read: a shit tonne) of hyphens and as such, is not for those with a weak stomach.

If I had to pick three gripes I have with travelling in America they’d be relatively small things, but they’re oh-so-annoying. These three pin-pricks in the big o’ fun are:

1. Pennies. Seriously. What the? Why? At home our smallest coin is 10 cents, and even then we wouldn’t keep a coin smaller than 50 cents.

Money’s dirty – why would you want to handle more of it?

And why are shop keepers surprised when I tell them to keep the change? No I don’t want that 12 cents (and no, I don’t consider 12c a reasonable tip).

2. Spitting. Why do guys in this country spit all the time?! You guys, it’s disgusting.

New Orleans was the worst, where guys waiting at bus stops were spitting at tourists’ feet to watch them jump out of the way. But every city’s had them. Dirty, dirty, spitters.

3. Tampons. What’s with the lack of feminine hygiene choices? I’m not talking brands – you’ve got enough brands to have your own monthly bitchy-time stores. But the choices really only boil down to applicator tampons or pads. Both for the freshly blooming.

Can’t a girl just buy tampons without having to also shove brightly coloured plastic up the wah-hoo?

I asked a lady about this in CVS. She looked at me like OMG-you-didn’t-just-start-a-conversation-about-your-vagina. I felt like telling her that that was nothing – give me an hour and this will be on the Internet.

Sorry, did I just cross a line? Talking about vaginas on the Internet? I just walked into a Chinatown adult sex-shop looking for tampons because it looked like a convenience store from the outside. Nothing makes you feel as dirty as being leered at by half a dozen toothless old men over the top of their dirty magazines. So, really, this post is totally within the realms of ‘sane‘ and ‘normal‘.

Anyway, the lady at CVS had crazy fingernails. Like, pick-your-nose-while-keeping-your-fingers-inches-from-your-face long fingernails. In hindsight, not the best person to ask.

First Time For Everything

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Sick days are horrible. Yes, okay, the whole being unwell is unfortunate. But it’s the boredom that really gets me. I’m stuck at home and can’t go out with the other kids a play!

So I rented the first season of Downtown Abbey (which is addictive, by the way). It’s kept me half-occupied. So I resorted to painting my nails. Tried something fancy (ha!) and now it looks like I’ve shoved my fingertips in a vat of molten marshmallow (yum!).

I’ll pull the remover out for a tidy-up shortly.

Presentation Basics

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Work today was a little different. A bunch of us spent the day away from our desks at a presentation skills course. Public speaking and all that jazz.

Standing in front of colleagues and presenting to them.
In the boardroom.
All eyes on you.
Everyone encouraged to critique and offer feedback.

Yuck.

Bad day to rush the clothing choices.
Terrible day to realise you’ve had your collared blouse inside out all morning.

…how does one leave the house with a collar inside out?
Of all the things it could happen with…

Embarrassing.
But easily sorted with a quick trip to the ladies for a quick readjustment.

And now I can present publicly with a little more confidence. Key part being ‘a little‘.

What’d you do today to help you reach your non-fitness related goals?

Busy With R&R

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20121028-194925.jpgIt’s been a busy weekend. Kind of. I’ve been busy relaxing, out of the city.

But with the A&P show in Clareville this weekend, my weekend of relaxing wasn’t spent lazing about in the sun on my parents’ lawn. It was spent swanning around the show grounds, petting donkeys [insert ass joke here], and traipsing through poop. There was a lot of poop.
20121028-194940.jpg20121028-194947.jpg20121028-194954.jpgThere was also an extremely cute, hyperactive goat that butted the phone every time I tried to take a photo. I stood out like a real city-girl. But then I got the uncontrollable giggles and even the goat pretended not to see. Win.

My family also took me out to dinner at one of the restaurants in Masterton where we proceeded to stuff our faces full of tasty, tasty food. Weight loss fail. And my lil’ bro took the challenge of a garlic bread starter, a porterhouse steak with fries and a plate of BBQ pork ribs for the main course, and another garlic bread for dessert. There were no leftovers. Doggie bag unused. The wait staff checked in continuously. It’s probably safe to say someone won some cash on a little under the table wager.20121028-200656.jpgAnd as it I hadn’t pushed my luck enough this weekend, I went shopping for new jeans this morning. And found a pair. One size smaller than the last pair. Butt shot!
20121028-201250.jpg Now I’m back in Wellington (shot from the train above) nursing a food-hangover and a face of sugar-triggered pimples.

I’m going to go for a run tomorrow morning and nothing short of a natural disaster is going to stop me.

What’d you get up to this weekend?