"Cankles Are The New Black"

Ya, ya, I know, it’s been forever since the last entry but instead of prostrating myself in front of you and receiving a thousand lashes (most of them self inflicted) I have decided to come to terms and accept that I am and always will be an eternal procrastinator. And I’m okay with that…..sort of.

It’s a pretty sad day when I actively chose doing my taxes over writing a blog entry.  The good news is taxes are done! Bad news is I have not made much forward movement on the bucket list.

I will say, in all honesty my schedule was pretty rammed for a while with shows at night and rehearsals in the days for “War Horse” (http://www.mirvish.com/shows/warhorse). And when we finally got some free, time Mama sprained her ankle (tore 2 ligaments specifically) jumping off a horse in the show. Which some how made it's way through the Brown community and moved from me spraining my ankle while doing the show, to me breaking my ribs while a riding a real horse.... ah, I love my brown peeps!

My Sexy "Cankle"

So for the past 2 months I’ve been working my way to getting back on the saddle (so to speak). And during the 2 weeks I was off the show I consumed more shit than one person should legally be allowed (never mind my already pre-existing routine of a bag of chips and a goblet of wine nightly after each show). I’ll admit, I let myself get in a funk and had a bit of a pity party over the cankle. Which then led to buckets of ice cream, bags of cheesies, boxes of pizza, and a village worth of perogies. But what’s a girl to do when she’s lying prone for 14 days straight?.....Don’t answer.

You know, it’s a shame you can’t sprain your tits -  cuz that’s an area I could really use the swelling. Nope, instead me and my cankle have been hobbling around the city in search of a magician who can sweet talk it back to normal: physiotherapy, active release technique, acupuncture (which left my leg smelling like curry for 8 days – thanks to an herbal paste I got suckered into buying). And in between still eating my way into oblivion.

Not being able to work out the way I like (which is usually boxing) you’d think one would have the sense to compensate by eating a little better. Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m a pussy when it comes to self-control around food. Please, I consumed a whole wheel of brie in one sitting by myself a few days ago… it still hasn’t made it’s way from my ass. When your yoga pants start to feel tight (and they’re made from Lycra and Spandex) you know that’s a sign to shit or get off the pot…..and I already tried the “shitting” thing a while back thanks to the disasterous “Uncle Lee’s Dieter’s Tea” - we all know where that left me. So get off the pot it is!

I did finally ease my way back to the gym twice this week. But with the wheels of cheese still stuck to my glutes this is gonna need more than that 2 days of exercise. So I’ve decided to take on a detox and clean out the crap I’ve consumed over the past few months. Ya, ya, I know what you’re all thinking, “Numa, a detox means you actually have to control what you put into your body.” Need I remind you I did do it before while training for the competition…sure I was cranky, irritable and a down right bitch…but at least my skin looked good.

So the detox of choice which still allows me to eat food and not starve myself on brown lemon water is “Wild Rose Cleanse” (http://www.detox-central.com/wild-rose-cleanse.html) . It promises “In just 12 days you can feel lighter, refreshed and more active due to the cleansing process”.  And I can handle 12 days….I think.

So starting next week I will begin my process of pushing that Brie outta my system.

Oh and for those keeping track of the Bucket List, check #34 off.  I finally joined theTwitter (@RahnumaP). Being as technically inept as I am, I thought once one signs up for a Twitter account they will instantly gather flocks of followers. I’m up to a whopping 32!  Take that Lady Gaga! For those of you with Twitter accounts, care to stroke my ego and follow a brown gal and her cankle? 

And # 23, Learn to Play The Guitar, starts this week…as soon as I find a pick for the darned thing.

Will let you know how long I can actually last on this detox.

Until my lazy ass writes again,

R J

The Perpetual Procrastinator

Okay, I know I’ve been away for a while and instead of making excuses - I’ll just fess up and admit it: I was afraid to write any new posts cuz I haven’t done anything since the last blog. 


I’ve been suffering from the “I Have My Head So Far Up My Ass Syndrome”.  Any other takers?  

Sure, the past few months have been busy - I moved to LA only to move back to Toronto for work - and sure I’ve been consumed with shooting and rehearsing (I'm knee deep in rehearsals for a show called “War Horse” http://www.mirvish.com/shows/warhorse), and blah blah blah. But the truth is, I didn’t want to look like an asshole for not sticking through with my bucket list (those new to this blog can scroll down to the bottom to see where I was going with this). It seems like the closer I get to the deadline the more frozen I get in my tracks.

So instead of just avoiding writing,  (and many thanks to my friend Dharini for cyber kicking me in the ass) I thought it best to at least come clean and let you know I’ve scratched NOTHING new off the list. I might as well change the name of the blog from “My 40 Things Before 40” to “Why I Procrastinate So Much and Will Never Get Through This List”.

So as embarrassing as it is, I’ve decided to recap the original list (with my new comments in blue) of 33 things (see I can’t even commit to coming up with a list of 40!). The ones that have I’ve actually accomplished are crossed off (prepare yourself to not be blown away): 

  

1.    Travel to Mauritius (Ok, I’ll be the first to say it here…this one may not happen in time, but really, is “when” an important question to ask here?)

2.    Learn to play tennis so I can hold my own with those people who actually play in the summer time and look all cute in those short white skirts…I hate those bitches! (FYI I still hate those bitches and No, I haven’t learned the sport)

3.    Compete in a fitness competition – so I can actually look good wearing those short white skirts. See blog entry September 2010 for proof…and fond memories.

4.    Audition for "So You Think You Can Dance" as the oldest contestant ever on the show…I plan to be the Cloris Leachman of the series. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I wrote that one. Can I buy me some time on this?

5.    Learn to Dance (would help with achieving number 4). So I am in the middle of rehearsals for “War Horse” and the adorable blonde haired girl who plays my daughter (hey, if they can have a brown girl – me -play a French Farmer in the middle of World War 1, I can have a white blonde haired daughter) has been giving me tap lessons back stage – partially cuz she’s probably bored out of her mind hanging with a bunch of adults who are recreating the trauma of the Great War….so technically I am Learning to Dance!

6.    Re-learn to knit…yes it is possible to unlearn something as quickly as you learnt it. I did once knit a scarf... that gradually grew into an afghan. I think I still have the needles deep in the trenches of my closet. My77 year old Grandmother in law (who is losing a bit of her memory) can still knit the shit out of anything…I really have no excuse for this one other than shear laziness.

7.    Go visit my sponsor child in Senegal. Believe it or not I actually thought she lived in Rwanda up till now, when I just got up from my computer to look at the World Vision card…and you wonder why I haven’t had kids yet. I actually forgot I had a sponsor daughter till I just read over this bucket list.

8.    Run a marathon (hey anything to make my legs look good in those tennis skirts). I ran 2 halves – at this point I am making the executive decision and saying that my 2 halves make a whole – so CHECK!

9.    Have a fundraiser for Apne Ap  - an organization in Bombay that helps children of prostitutes living in brothels by providing them with education and tools to help end the intergenerational cycle of prostitution. (The one thing I am not doing for myself…See – I’m not so me centered). Does the actual charity organization matter? I did volunteer my time in co-running a 6-week youth arts mentorship for at-risk youth this past May and June so that kinda counts.

10. Play a team sport…if you know me; you know I have absolutely NO hand eye coordination…or depth perception for that matter…guess that makes learning tennis tricky too.  I never said I had to be any good at it, just play the damn thing….I think I still have sand stuck in my toe nails from that summer doing beach volleyball.

11. Spend a few months in another country learning their language and cuisine…I know – Me cook? And in another language at that? Miracles can happen kids. Does LA count? The US is another country - and I did learn the art of making some mean Kale Chips.

12.   Take a photography class so I can actually document this insane journey I’m doing. Ya, I got nothing for this one.

13.  Write a blog (OMG!! I’m doing that as we speak. Check one off the    list). That was a freebie!

14.  Perform stand up somewhere…remote…probably in Senegal while visiting my sponsor daughter where no one knows me (so when I bomb it won’t feel like a total embarrassment). Did that twice (The Comedy Bar Senegal ain’t, but it was a hell of a lot closer to home…and with cheap drinks…which may be why people were so willing to laugh thanks to the copious consumption of cheap booze)

15. Dance in a Burlesque Show. Can you do Burlesque in a full snow suit? Ya, might have to re-think this one.

16.  Sing back up on stage in someone’s rock band….I say rock band cuz hopefully the percussion and electric guitar will be loud enough to drown out my shitty vocals (did I mention I can’t sing?) So it turns out in “War Horse” we actually have to sing songs on stage (no one mentioned that at the auditions). Rock band it is not, but hey, there ain’t nothing like an ole Devonshire Folk Song from 1914 to get you tapping those feet. Technically me thinks this qualify as singing on stage.

17.  Take a pottery class - I’ve always wanted to recreate that scene from the movie “Ghost”, but the only way I’d be able to drag my husband to a class where there was mud and molding would be if it came with ring and women in bikinis wrestling in it. So solo it will be. Does Play Dough count? Got some of that over Christmas.

18. Bungee jump – something about being thrown off a bridge with nothing but an elastic band holding you by the feet is a bit titillating…or stupid. But hey you only live once – and if things go wrong at least I went out on a bang….or in this case a bounce. Now may not be the best time to attempt this being that it’s officially “freezing my ass” degrees outside in Toronto.

19.  Get my motorcycle license – cuz deep down inside I secretly want to be a Bad Ass Biker Mama. This one I may officially attempt in the spring when I get my days back to myself…but don’t hold your breath.

20.  Learn to ride a bicycle again. You know that whole saying, it’s like riding a bike, you never forget. Guess who did?  Plus I figured it’s probably a good idea to be able to balance a 10 speed before I tackle balancing a motorcycle. Does a spin class count? In that case, Check Away!

21.  Get a tattoo – part of the whole “Bad Ass Biker Mama” fantasy. This may take a while…I have a low pain threshold and apparently these things hurt like hell. Mama’s gotta build up for that one.

22.  Play a song on the guitar – Remember what it was like to sit around a campfire with all the cool kids from high school and watch the popular boy serenade you on his guitar? Ya, me neither. But shit, at this point I am struggling to find things to add to my list - so play a song on the guitar it is. Once I master #23 I can tackle #22….and by “song” I’m allowing myself some artistic license here…shoot, if I can manage to get through  “Mary Had A Little Lamb” on the instrument, I consider this complete. I’m not aiming high anymore kids, just aiming to complete.

23.  Learn to play the guitar – would help with # 22.

24.  Write a short story or a short film (I never said a “good” short story or script – just writing the freaking thing). After my Creative Writing Memoirs class where it was just me and a room full of seniors (the average age was no younger than 70) I submitted a short story to the Toronto Star writing contest last June…I’m guessing they’ve chosen the winner by now.

25.  Roam around the city for a day with my camera and take as many random pictures as I can. I’m more of a capture-everyday-people kind of photographer…so depending on what neighborhoods I roam in, I may end up with a few bruises…or in the river with bricks tied to my feet.  But hey, nothing ventured nothing gained. See #12

26.  Try to get “My 40 Things Before 40” published somewhere – I’m not picky. Hell, even the back of a bathroom stall is fine with me. Think of it as my contribution to your potty time. Anyone got leads - Mama's got the goods. Technically I do have written work out there in the web world (by that really I mean just this blog)…hey, man, I’m stretching here.

27. Somehow get my way on to a float for the Pride Parade (thanks Kathy for that one). Plus with my morning transvestite voice I got going on I should be a shoe in. Those of you with Pride connections - holler back. That ship sailed by last year and Mama forgot to ride.

28. Participate in a Flash Mob – They look so cool and end up with a ridiculous amount of hits on the web. Who knows, maybe that’ll be my ticket to fame. Hey anyone with a mass group of friends want to meet me somewhere and do something that will be filmed and put up sometime on the web?

29. Try to get a 20 year old to hit on me (that came courtesy of Karitsa). – Though if I am trying to do it, does it really count? And at what point does one become a cougar?  Technically I think he was 18. And in my defense I did nothing but buy a bottle of wine at Trader Joe’s in LA and he asked for my ID. After figuring out where the actual d.o.b is on an Ontario license he then looked up and said, “Wow, you look really good!” To which I said, “Ya, well, you haven’t seen me first thing in the morning.” To which he then replied, “Is that an invitation?” It may not have been a complete pick up but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

  30. Jump out of a plane – I actually already did but it was static line (where the chute automatically opens for you). According to hard-core divers that is the pussy way to jump. So tandem it will be. Once again I got nothing here…except just me being a lazy ass. 

31.  Work on an Ed Burns Film – This may be a little trickier to do - but hey, I’m not beyond stalking. And Ed, if you happen to be reading this blog – Mama’s got some ideas for your next film. So I had good intentions when I was writing this, even set up a google alert for any Ed Burns news. Kept saying I’d try to follow him on Twitter – till it meant I had to actually get a Twitter account and….well we all know where this story is going. 

32. Get inside a boxing ring and actually spar. Until it becomes regulation to wear hockey masks with cages in the ring this one may take some time (please, Mama paid too much for this nose!) But I have made some forward movement. Knowing that it would take eons for me to do this on my own I have started developing a feature film about female boxers called “Pinweight” (http://pinweight.com/) which got 2^nd place at “TIFF’s Pitch This” in September. Unless I actually write a character for myself who has to box, this lady may never get in the ring and do it on her own. So to the movies it will be! 

33. Take on a 40 Day Challenge of Saying “Yes” To Things. Remember the Chicken Coop? Here’s the video proof to remind you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OAmyZQhJTQ  Need I say more?

Though I may be shooting myself in the foot by doing this, I am going to add a couple more things to this list.  So without further adieu:

34.    Get a Twitter Account – ya I know, it took me forever just to switch from my ghetto cell phone to an iphone (I still don’t have a data plan so don’t think you can get a hold of me that quickly) but all the kids these days are doing it and I’ll make any attempt to still try to stay cool….not that I ever really was when I was a kid.

35.     Do a Cleanse -  I write this as I am wolfing down a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie and ice cream….hey at least there’s a vegetable in that. I thought I might take on the Inanity DVD 60 Day Challenge – for those who have no idea what I’m talking about you can get a glimpse inside with this promo for the workout: (http://www.beachbody.com/product/fitness_programs/insanity). But that shit lives up to it’s name! I attempted 4 days of sweating with Sean T (sadly not the kinda sweating I’d like to do with him). After 4 days of hearing me grunt, yell and swear at the TV I think my husband had enough (case and point this short video he took of me while trying to work out in my living room):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWZz4IFoChw&feature=youtu.be 

Learning from past experience, I ain’t gonna make any empty promises of writing daily on this blog cuz, well, clearly we all know what happened to that. But thanks to my friends for pushing me to get it back up and running.

The count down begins!

Happy New Year!

PS. Though this too took me eons to do, I now officially have a website. You can check it out at:  (http://www.rahnuma.ca/ ) 

I'm Coming Out....... Of Hibernation!

Okay, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – I’m a shitty blogger. Apparently you can’t call yourself a blogger unless you actually blog. Like daily.

So I will now refer to myself as “The Occassional-When The Mood Strikes Me-Half-Assed Blogger” – (and  these days half of my ass is larger than the sum of my two holes…um, I mean “wholes”).

  

I’m not even gonna count how many months it’s been since my last entry cuz it just gives me heartburn…..though that could also be due to the copious amounts of  nachos and vats of pinot grigio I’ve consumed since summer patio season started. I have to admit, I’ve kinda lost myself in an eating haze. It’s been exactly one year and one month since the fitness competition and I can now confidently say I have done a complete 180 from where I was. I have realized that I am a closet food junkie. Seriously. I catch myself doing things like carrying a bag of carrots and peppers with me to eat when in public and then secretly going to the bulk store to get my candy ass on. And it’s not even the good candy. Nope. My weakness is the Bridge Mixtures. For those of you not familiar with it, it’s kinda like the red-headed step child of candy – it’s just a box of shit leftover on some factory floor that someone felt sorry for and decided to put all the rejects together. 

I’ve gotten to the point where I gross myself out. I swear there has got to be some kind of chemical imbalance in my brain cuz Mama’s now consuming shit I would NEVER have eaten even before I started training. Like, last Saturday I had what I can only explain as  a complete out of body experience – which then later literally turned into an outta body experience (my john has never seen more of me then it did that day). I totally caved and did something I haven’t done in 10 years.......

I had McDonalds!

And it tasted good – for like about 5 minutes after I inhaled it. And then I wanted that shit outta my body. There really needs to be a “Morning After Pill” for food you regret ingesting.  C'mon, if they can come up with a pill for men you regret ingesting there’s gotta be one for food! Instead, I had a momentary lapse of memory and  went right back to my Dieters Tea. Clearly I don’t learn lessons well. After what was another close encounter of the 3^rd kind with my bowels, I have decided it’s time to put Dr. Lee’s mixture to rest…. for now.

With the one year anniversary of the competition come and gone and my body a little thicker in places it wasn’t (I’m back to not being able to see what color underwear I’m wearing) I’m starting to re-think my ways. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not about to dive into another body building competition. After seeing (and smelling) those freaks backstage as they basted their bodies in Pam Cooking spray I think Mama’s had her fill…..though I’ve been warned – never say never. All I’m saying is that I’m getting back on the wagon…ish. There is a part of me that misses seeing a trainer twice a week as they berate and mock me into pumping more iron....ah the memories. 

I’ve come to realize through this whole bucket list process that I am someone who needs deadlines in order to get anything done. So I may just find myself signing up for something else that forces me to back off the Brie and wind down the wine. You would think being an actress I would watch what I eat ….quite the opposite. It’s more like I eat everything I watch. So on to finding something else to kick my ass back in shape.

As for updates on the list, well I can proudly say I have been able to check off a few more. First and foremost, the 40 Days of Saying Yes Challenge came and went (quickly thankfully). I had friends coming out of the wood works asking me to do some sick shit. Had you folks read the blog I did say “Within in Reason”….which I am learning is open to interpretation.

I will admit, animals were involved during this 40 day challenge. Specifically, chickens….and me cleaning up their shit. You heard correctly. I spent an afternoon cleaning out a friend’s chicken coop (I know what you’re thinking– who the hell has a chicken coop in the city?….Don’t ask). I have to say I do have a new found respect for fowl. Who knew those little fuckers could shit so much? And I’m not talking pretty little bird poo. I’m talking hard as a rock defecation (I will now think twice now before I call someone “Chicken Shit”).  Had I known how bad it was gonna be I would have invested in a gas mask.

For those who are having a hard time visualizing this city girl doing this, all I can say is I have video proof below.

Maybe it was the chicken shit fumes that put me in my winter coma....but I digress.

Back to the list: I can happily say I have crossed off #14 off - twice: Perform Stand Up. Before you all harass my ass about not telling you when I did it – note that I did mention I was going to do it somewhere remote where no one would see me. Okay so the Comedy Bar at Bloor and Ossington isn’t as remote as Rwanda but hey, it was a hell of a lot cheaper. And despite the constant having to run to the bathroom to shit my nerves out (shitting seems to be the theme of this blog), I gotta say, there was something kind of addictive about being up there. I’m not saying I’m any Chris Rock or Eddie Murhpy (though I do long to have an ass like Eddy’s in those hot red “Delirious” leather pants  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JfMCBh1sJQ), but I think I may have been bitten by the bug.  Or maybe I was delirious from the dehydration after going to the bathroom so many times. Me thinks I may just try my hand at it again…maybe.

And #24 – write a short story. So in the fall I took a creative writings memoir course. Turns out it was me and 13 other senior citizens in the class….(question: at what age do you lose all fashion sense?) And in May I entered the Toronto Star’s short story writing contest. Being that it’s now August I can assume I didn’t win. But hey, at least I did it.

And though I didn’t end up holding a fundraiser for Apne Aaap just yet I did co-run a 6 week Drama Outreach Mentorship Program for at-risk youth in May and June so kinda did something that wasn’t for just me. Though I gotta say I think I got a whole lot more out of doing this than some of the kids.

Next up: Get my tattoo before end of summer…..summer technically ends September 21^st right?

Off to go get some water to digest the bag of cinnamon coated almonds and sack of banana chips I just finished inhaling.

Onwards and Upwards (our outwards if I end up back on that tea).


(For You Skeptics......Video Proof I  Really Did Clean Out Chicken Poop Below):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OAmyZQhJTQ

Blowing Up (In more ways than one)

Is it possible to physically feel your ass grow?

Seriously. I think I just felt it in my sleep last night. And no, it wasn’t my gas.

It’s like all the Halloween candy I had last month (and this one) finally decided it was going to plop it self into my butt (the right cheek to be specific).

I know some of you seem to think that since I came 5^th in that ridiculous fitness competition I must be staying on track and keeping healthy and eating clean (ah, the fantasies). Like I said last blog, I am kind of a one trick pony. I would like to say that post competition I had an epiphany or an awakening of sorts that led me to this fabulous fit lifestyle. But as you guessed – it didn’t last long.  I’m back to my old ways – actually I think I am worse. I am eating shit I used to totally stay clear from pre training. Like devouring a large bag of Ruffles chips and a glass of wine (or 3) at midnight…for no reason (other than I am a complete glutton with no self-control when it comes to food… or shoes).

As a result I have started to seek other ways to shake off the chunks I gained post training. Insert: “Dieter’s Tea” here.

Yup, I will admit, I have hit the bottom of the barrel and am now looking at teas to do the trick for me.

I should clarify for any of you readers contemplating the product, that by “Dieter’s Tea” – they really mean, “You will shit your intestines out the next day and of course only when there are absolutely no bathrooms around”. I’m telling you my ass hurt more from clenching my butt cheeks so tight to prevent Mount Vesuvius exploding than from all the training I did for the fitness competition.

Anyone with camera footage from the Shoppers Drugmart on Keele street last week will get first hand experience of me waddling down the shampoo aisle desperately trying not to spread my legs too wide while walking in hopes of avoiding a “cleanup in aisle 6”.

So I am thinking it’s time I add some more “athletic” things to my bucket list as it seems to be the only thing that actually holds me accountable to staying in shape. Funny that.

I may regret putting this down later on (who am I kidding – I know I will - but fuck it, I’m up for making an ass of myself all in the name of vanity).  So with that said.

#31 = Get inside the boxing ring and actually spar.

Crap! As I write this I am already regretting it.  Sigh…Good bye nose I paid so much for.

Sure I’ve been taking boxing classes on and off for the past 4 years but it’s a little different then getting in the ring with someone. For one thing the bag never hits you back.  The bag is more like a good friend – you know the kind who allows you to take out your frustrations on them, use them as…well, a punching bag and always stand (or in this case swing) by your side.  So to actually get into a ring where the likelihood of my punches landing are nil and the chances of someone hitting me back are high, is a bit nauseating. No cancel that – completely nauseating (I just threw up in my mouth thinking about it.) 

You know, for the most part I am okay with people hitting my body. When you grow up with Indian parents it’s kind of par for the course. Plus after all the fights my big brother and I got into as kids you’d think I had a stomach for this.  But the stomach is not the problem. It’s the face. The moment someone even lightly taps it, I get all Exorcist on their ass. Which I’m not sure in the ring is a good thing.

This sparring thing may prove to be a little bit more challenging than the fitness competition. At least then it was just me beating up my own body. Getting in the actual ring means someone else will take care of that for me.  Sigh….what am I getting myself into.

In addition to completely demolishing my face I have decided to add one more item to the bucket list as a compliment to this newfound saying “yes” to my life.

So #32: Take On Saying “YES” To Things For The Next 40 Days.

I should probably add a parentheses to that stating “within in reason” cuz I have some messed up friends who will gladly take this on in the sickest way possible.

As long as it doesn’t involve me eating horse shit (or any kind of shit for that matter) or sleeping with you (unless of course you are Rick Fox or Ryan Reynolds) I am throwing myself out there on a 40 Day Journey of Saying Yes.

Day 1 begins tomorrow (or maybe next week).  Okay, Okay, tomorrow it is.

Dear Lord what am I getting myself in to?

I’m sure there will be plenty to write about over the next 40 days. Tune in to find out.

The Agony of Da Feet

It’s been more than 2 weeks after the Half Marathon and my feet still aren’t talking to me.

Who ever thought running 21.5 km would actually be something good for you? Never mind those crack jobs who run a full marathon at 42km. I know I know – I’m one of those who put it on my bucket list and am now kicking myself in my ass (which since post fitness competition as been rapidly growing). Seriously – is it considered a cop out if I end it at having done 2 halves? They do add up to a whole… Don’t answer that.

Heading down to the course on race day, I was silently placing voodoo spells on my girlfriends for making me do this with them “in the spirit of fun!” Ain’t nothing fun about lugging my hairy brown butt out of bed at 530am for a 730 start time.  At this time I’d just like to point out to any of you race organizers reading this – starting that early on a Sunday morning is just plain mean. Don’t you realize I am barely coherent at that hour let alone ready to run 21.5km?

By the time we got downtown to the course I have to admit I started to get caught up in the excitement (22,000 people all lined up and raring to go will do that to ya). And when the gun fired and we all took off I actually felt exhilarated – running along with them all, cheering, clapping my hands, feeling like an Olympic athlete.  I mean, come on – how hard can it be if this many people signed up to do it?

But like the walking contradiction that I am, half an hour into the run I really started to question why the hell people do this? Really, how is pounding your body on pavement for over 2 hours STRAIGHT considered fun? Or good for you for that matter.   My body was already cursing me at the 5 km mark (maybe it was karma from cursing my girlfriends earlier in the day). And I still had another 16.5km to go. At this point I was truly regretting putting a Full Marathon on my bucket list and seriously considered consolidating my 2 halves to fulfill that item.

I will say that one good thing about these races, aside from the free water and Gatorade they hand out (for an Indian, free food and drinks are really the only reason we do anything) is that they have people called “Pace Bunnies” set up all over the course for you to follow. They’re supposed to keep you on track with the pace time you set out for yourself pre marathon. This would’ve been a great idea if our freaking Bunny actually kept the pace! Dude was like the Energizer Rabbit hopped up on Speed. There’s no way in hell he was keeping our pace time. And at some point we got so far behind Thumper, he was nothing but a set of floppy ears in the distance.

We now had to resort to relying on our senses (and the angle of the sun) to tell us our time and pace - cuz the avid runner that I am (not) forgot to where a watch on race day. 

At 1 hour into it I was thoroughly bored and through with running. I’m like a kid with A.D.D that way. I need constant stimulation and entertainment. And aside from the few musical bands scattered across the route – running on the flat pavement of the Lakeshore started to get redundant.

But by the time I saw the 19km flag, something happened. Some kind of internal switch flicked on and out of nowhere my feet started flying! Seriously. I had no control over them. They clearly detached themselves from my body and continued sprinting down the end of the race route.  As my feet took off, I started to envision that finale from “Chariots of Fire” and that cheesy theme song kept playing in my head (not the most motivating to run to I’ll admit but my brain was also doing it’s own thing).  I started to picture the crowd going wild as I neared the end, all the people who would be cheering me on at the finish line, there to greet me, hoist me up on their shoulders and jump up and down in slow motion as we celebrated my victory.

Sadly – none of that happened. I crossed the finish line by myself, did a lame half-assed jump (harder to do in slow motion – not to mention I looked like a total tool doing it alone) and then waited for my friends to cross.

But for all the pain and crankiness I had during the run – I have to say I felt pretty damn good afterwards. Another accomplishment. And the bonus – I beat my old time and shaved off more than 9 minutes from my last half marathon. Completed in 2:13:45.  

 Waiting for us beyond the finish line were tables of bagels, cookies, fruit and water bottles for us to refuel our bodies. And like the good Indian that I am, I made sure to stock my bag full of groceries for the week (I told you my peoples only do things for food). My mom, taught me well.

I’d like to say that I have continued and kept up with the running, but as you can guess from my last entry I’m kind of a one trick pony. Try things through and then leave it all behind. I sit here eating a bag of Twizzlers as I type this.  Sigh….memories of my training diet are long gone…as is that body.

But another thing knocked off (sort of). 

Next up: Applying to the Marilyn Denis Show as an “on-air contributor”.  It’s totally on a lark – but hey nothing ventured, nothing gained. More updates to follow.

This guy won the full marathon in 2:07:57 (kinda puts a damper on my half time)

Post lame half-ass slow motion jump

What you can't see is that I am hiding my bag of free food under the foil wrap

LOST AND FOUND…AND LOST AGAIN!

I’m a lousy blogger. There. I’ve said it. I know it’s been a kagillion days since my last entry and the fitness competition and people have been pressing me for updates. But I chalk it up to being in a food coma….and on vacation (Iceland, Paris, Barcelona and London).  So to my loyal fans – Mama apologizes and is now back on the wagon….well for writing at least. As for eating… that’s a whole other story.

Okay before I being to recap the insanity of the competition and the post debauchery I just need to clarify one thing. NO I AM NOT TURNING 40 THIS YEAR. If peeps read the first blog, I did mention Mama’s got plenty of time to complete this list. All right that’s all I need to say on that.

Now as for the rest….Dear God where do I even begin?

As many of you know the competition was scheduled for July 17^th. And the weekend before I decided to attend a posing workshop. I swear I never felt more judged than when I walked into that room.  It was a rainy Sunday (if any of you can even remember that far back) and I showed up wearing my comfy clothes, shorts, a hoodie and sneakers…apparently a bad choice. No one mentioned the wardrobe protocol before the training session.

The moment I walked into the studio full of ladies in their short shorts, bikini tops and stripper shoes, the woman coaching the workshop (who I might add was 48 and had the body of an 18 year old) totally gave me a disgusted once-over head to toe.  And it didn’t end there. For those of you that know me – I pretty much will talk to anyone (which for the most part is a good thing…except for that 1^st week in LA where the creepy old man across the DGA wanted to talk to me about cock-sucker lips and help me figure out why men want to fuck me so I could market that as an actress….but I digress).

As we sat there listening to the instructors talk to us about the right shade of tanning and to make sure to sleep with gloves on so you don’t drool on your hands and taint the tan job (I’m dead serious), I happened to turn over to one of the other contestants caught her eye and smiled. And I shit you not; she took one look at me, scowled and turned away. And that wasn’t the only one. I overheard that this other woman, who also looked smoking hot (this place would’ve been a guys wet dream) had 3 kids, so at the end of the workshop I went up to her and said, “I just wanted to say you look amazing and I’m impressed at your body especially after 3 kids.”  She just said, “I know. Thanks.” and turned away from me. I was beginning to feel a little bit like a leper. But I decided to give them all the benefit of the doubt and blame it on the food deprivation – I mean please, I know what bitchy hunger looks like. Plus it hurts my feelings less to think of it that way.

We proceeded to learn the obligatory poses: relaxed (which I might add is nothing of the sort), ¼ turns, back pose, frontal pose, the OMG I am going to vomit pose (okay that one’s just mine).  You know you wouldn’t think standing in my clear stripper stilettos (which I finally found by the way) would be that bad but I swear my thighs and my ass were on fire after the workshop (and this time it wasn’t due to my bad gas). That was like a workout in itself.

So we are now 6 days away from the competition and yes, I have let the craziness seep in a little. I wasn’t going to go to a tanning salon – that was just plain stupid. I am Indian for Gods sakes, we’re born tanned… and hairy – but that’s for a later entry. Ok, I will admit, I did buy a can of Coppertone Spray on Bronzer just to give me that little extra oomph. My lucky husband (or sucker depending on the day) was in charge of spraying my ass, back and thighs for me.  I am pretty sure nowhere in our marriage contract does it say “husband will vow to spray wife as she lies bent over newspaper”. But hey – what is a marriage for if not stuff like this? 

On the last day before the competition I was told to not have any water. One 500ml water bottle was what I was allowed to consume for the whole day. And believe me I savored that puppy. 

The morning of as I entered the St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts and walked backstage I couldn’t believe my eyes. There in this large room were men and women in their skivvies busy getting pasted by their trainers with a product called Dream Tan.  I swear they were darker than I (except I was born this way – I believe the clinical term for my shade is “darkie”).  And let’s not forget that the entire backstage corridor, building and dressing room walls were covered in plastic in order to protect it from the tan. Apparently this shit doesn’t actually stay on the body that well so whatever you lean on will be covered.  I felt like I was in an insane asylum…in more ways than one.

The only time 2 straight men in bikinis will be okay with rubbing each other down

The girls in the dressing room started to have me freaked a little – telling me I’d be too white on stage and I should go upstairs and buy the $40 2oz jar of Dream Tan.  And I will admit, I almost fell for it.  Thank God I stepped out of the building to clear my head.

That's my arm on the left (with the bronzer) and I am still whiter than the white chicks.

Things that continued to shock me:

• Wanting to use baby oil to add that extra glisten and being told that I should use the cans of Pam Cooking Spray instead that were all around the theatre (I’m not lying – these freaks were greased to the nines in this shit and ready for the grill);
• Bikini Bite – picture crazy glue in a roll on (this is to prevent your bikini from going up the      crack of your ass – which apparently you get points taken off for) Of course no one tells you how to get the gunk off afterwards…still a little chafed from that;
• The Pump Room – same as the Paste room, just scattered with weights and wreaking of bad onions (that many half naked bodies drenched in paste and Pam is enough to turn anyone’s stomach). 

The "Pump / Paste Room"

I didn’t realize how insane this actually was. I’ll admit I started to get caught up in the nervous energy backstage. These women were neurotic. And I thought actors were bad.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was doing this just for fun – not to place. Just for me. 

And the irony of it all: I WON 5^TH PLACE!! (And for the first time in my life, I WAS the whitest person on stage). Boy, were those skinny bitches pissed when I walked back with my medallion. 

I didn’t even wait for the evening to end. I literally walked my ass off stage right, got dressed and went straight to our favorite Italian Restaurant, Ferro (www.ferrobarcafe.ca) downed a whole pizza, 2 glasses of wine and went home on a rampage for chocolate. Realizing I got rid of any kind of thing in the home I decided to down the chocolate covered protein bar sitting in my pantry at midnight for dessert.

What you can't see is that this is the last slice of a full pizza

I am ashamed (and a little proud) to say it didn’t end there. Woke up the next morning went for brunch at High Park and had a large mochaccino, 3 poached eggs, one pancake, 4 strips of bacon, 2 sausages, 4 pieces of toast, and hash browns.  Followed by ice cream sandwiches (2), 2 bags of rice chips, and then later on a plate of vegetables, a wheel of Camembert with crackers ¾ of a bottle of wine (I thought Michael and I had shared the bottle till I found out the next morning he only had one glass, the rest I devoured). You would think at that point I would be in toxic shock and passed out. Nope. I proceeded to walk to the corner store at 9pm to get a bag of jujubes and a box of chocolate.  

Better than water

I wasn't lying...the power brunch

I think I hit my food coma at this point but I wasn't about to stop

Just needed a wee nap before the next meal

Back at it in no time!

I’d like to say that I've gotten back on the wagon of healthy eating but sadly I have lost complete control again. Amazing how long it can take your body to get into shape and how quickly you can pack the pounds back on. It could be all the baguettes and Brie and wine consumed in Paris, or the fish and chips (and wine) in London, or the copious amount of sangria and paella in Barcelona…or the fact that I am just a pig.  But at least I can proudly say that once I did get my dream body I wanted and even got a prize for it. Something someday grandkids can be proud of (I’m not saying they have to be mine).

So there is the last 49 days in a nutshell.

Volleyball took a part somewhere during those days but I still can’t really say that I “played” the sport. Hey, at least 2 things are knocked off the list.  Working on the 3^rd.  I signed up for a writing course through the city’s parks and recreations program. Turns out it’s held at a senior’s centre  - and I am the only one who’s not a senior – but hey, it’ll make for interesting material for my short. Oh and forgot to mention I am running a half marathon on Sept 26th. Being that I already ran a half marathon 2 years ago and this will be my second half, does that equate to running a full? 2 halves do make a whole right? In that case you can knock 4 things off the list soon!

And I know many of you have been asking to see pics from the competition and I have been reluctant to show them. But now that I no longer have that body maybe it’s good motivation to get my shit together - and stop eating shit (I'll save them for the end of the blog...to force you to keep reading...that's considering you've even made it this far).

Haven’t added new stuff to the bucket list just yet – with only a few more spots open I find myself being really precious about them and don’t want to list just anything. So if you have suggestions that will rock my world (and be feasible) feel free to holler.

Okay, I’m off to figure out how to get the plate of nachos, 2 glasses of wine, ½ zone bar and 8 chocolate covered graham crackers out of my body.

More to come – this time more regularly…I hope.

PS. I met a super lovely trainer named Jane Clapp at an event for Caitlin Cronenberg (David Cronenberg’s daughter) who has a fantastic blog and a great approach to fitness and health. You can read about her at: ihearttosweat.blogspot.com and visit her site at www.urbanfitt.com 






And now for the reveal...