It's a wrap.

I finished my 365 Days of Sweat challenge a couple of weeks ago.

This is a picture that has nothing to do with the challenge but is hilarious. No, mum, I'm not pregnant.

I haven't written yet, because I felt that something momentous had to go here. Only a post that captured the enormity of my accomplishment would be worth of this space. I didn't do anything interesting or exciting to mark my final workout of the challenge, though I did congratulate myself with a 90 minute massage at The Annex Spa. I don't have anything to mark the day with.

The fact is, during the weeks since I've finished my challenge, I've realised that I really didn't do anything extraordinary.

By the time I had finished the challenge, being physically active each day had become wholly ordinary. My life hasn't actually changed much since finishing the challenge. I've taken a day off here and there, but I'm still working out more frequently than not. Since finishing the challenge, I've started to learn squash (and have finally mastered a legal serve!), been skating in Market Square, and been to more than my fair share of yoga classes at Studio 330. In the new year, I'll start training as the running leg of a relay team (Team Wackett!) doing the Penticton Challenge in August. Katelyn will be doing the swimming leg, and her dad is doing the cycle, and then I'll run a marathon. They asked me a couple of days ago, and I didn't need to think before saying yes. My only concern is whether I'll be able to get time off to travel to BC.

Yesterday, I arrived back in Kingston in the midst of an ice storm. The power was out, so I couldn't take the elevator. I took the stairs, hauling my heavy bag. I don't think my heart rate increased at all. That felt really good.

And that's all you really need to know, isn't it?

Day 363 - The End is Near

Monday is Day 365.

For those who have been asking, the plan for Monday is to hit the gym in the morning and celebrate after class with a 90 minute massage.

I may eat some frozen yoghourt. Because yes, it's winter, but also...frozen yoghourt.

The past couple of weeks haven't quite gone to plan. With the return of my weird, itchy rash, I have felt completely drained of energy and interest. CaRMS applications demanded more of my time than I had expected. Nevertheless, I kept up the sweat, even though sometimes the activities I chose seemed more like a nod to the challenge than actual physical activity. 

But that's sort of the point, isn't it?

The goal was to show myself and everyone else that it is possible to nourish your body through healthy activities even when times are tough and the schedule is tight. I think I've done that.

More later. For now, I'm off to 330 for some power yoga.

EDIT: Or I'll suddenly realise that it's 15 minutes later than I thought it was and I can't possibly make it to yoga on time. Oops.

Day 332 - What.

My exercise life has been somewhat of a disaster recently.

I've been going to these yoga classes that I don't totally understand, but there was an instructor there one time who was wearing a shirt that said Spiritual Gangster, and I can assure you that every time I've been to that studio I've felt at least somewhat spiritually threatened. I have decided that I am not all that interested in inversions, and I prefer breathing out both nostrils at the same time. Seriously, this yoga practice involves meditation where we breathe out of one nostril at a time. I have had to repeat the inner mantra be open throughout every single class.

Yes, I've developed a mantra and I'm actually using it. And yes, it's be open.

Breaking from the strange and spiritually threatening yoga sessions, I decided I would take run along a trail in the river valley in Edmonton on Sunday evening. Of course, I woke up to snow and -10C weather, but I didn't let common sense keep me from running in my woefully inadequate fall gear later in the day. I ran along a trail marked 'horse trail' partway through, that was littered with contradictory signs of a horse head that was crossed out. So it was a horse trail, but no horses were allowed.

Things were going well until I started thinking about bears, at which point I began to panic.

I texted Giselle, asking whether Edmonton has bears. She told me that Edmonton only has squirrels and rabbits.

I texted Katelyn, asking whether I would get eaten by a bear running alone along a trail in Calgary, and she said I probably wouldn't.

So I kept running.

The trail was actually really beautiful, and there truthfully was very little snow. I took my headphones out because I was still a little worried about not hearing a bear, and it turned out that nature had some very nice sounds. Also, there were car sounds because the trail was right near the road. And that was comforting. So there was that.

Then the sun started to go down, and I realised that I probably should have run earlier, brought a running buddy, or carried a flashlight, none of which I did. Oops.

So I started to run back home.

Then I noticed that the fingers of my right hand were going numb and acting kind of funny. And my arm began to grow increasingly painful. 

Yes, folks, I had dislocated my shoulder by running.

Worst part was that I couldn't reduce it, for some reason. I'm normally pretty good at just grabbing the offending limb and jamming it back into its loose socket, but this thing would not go in, no matter how hard I tried. So I ran along in increasing pain, with numb right fingers, texting out an SOS with my left hand, so that at least if I were caught on the dark trail alone, huddled in my cold, sweaty running gear, shoulder dislocated, into the night, perhaps someone would be able to direct the police to my frozen remains.

I'm really not sure how texting Amy in Kuala Lumpur was a useful part of that strategy, but let's say it somehow was.

Long story short, I eventually got home, looked up how to properly reduce a shoulder, held my upper arm against my body with my left hand, grabbed onto my desk with my right hand, and turned until my arm was held in external rotation.

Then I pushed.

The pop was so satisfying.

I think I'm ready to leave Edmonton.

Day 322 - Far From Home

I've rounded the curve on my 365 day challenge, and the end is now in sight.

I lost count somewhere along the way, and counted my last blog entry as Day 244, but it mustn't have been, because the challenge ends on 3 December 2013. I've counted backward and decided that today must be around Day 322.

Currently many kilometres from home in beautiful (really!) Edmonton, Alberta, I've been struggling with getting my sweat in. For the past week or so, I've been recovering from a pretty nasty cutaneous drug eruption. By all means, Google Image that if you've got a strong stomach, but trust me when I say that it has been neither pretty nor comfortable. I haven't been feeling my best, and I've wanted to keep my somewhat-disfigured chest, neck, and shoulders under wraps, so I have been taking a lot of long walks in a high-necked jacket and cap instead of spending my time in skimpy gym clothes.

Today, feeling physically better thanks to some heaping helpings of prednisone, and also feeling more confident, I decided that it was finally time to get out and get moving. 

It's challenging figuring out how to be active in an unfamiliar city. I don't have synchro or triathlon practises to occupy me, and the Goodlife gym I have a membership for is over an hour's walk away from my accommodations. The Yoga Loft, however, is about a half hour's walk away, and some yoga seemed as good a way as any to get myself moving on this dreary, drippy Saturday in Edmonton, so I trudged out the door in boots and knittted cap.

I find practicing at a new studio incredibly challenging.

You never know what the people are going to be like, nor what the instruction will entail. I'm used to rocking out to awesome tunes in my comfort zone - my jute mat at Studio 330. I'm familiar with how Jen, Dallas, and Bethany lead, and I know they won't pull on my stiff left shoulder, even if it means my child's pose is a bit funky looking. I've left other studios feeling criticised and corrected, or maybe just like I didn't fit in.

Fortunately, The Yoga Loft was a different experience.

It was nothing like Studio 330, though. I found myself on a not-so-sticky borrowed mat in an unusually contemplative environment. There was no music! There was lots of meditation! The room was filled with people breathing deeply and loudly. There was none of the usual giggling and informal commentary I am used to.

I was a fish out of water.

Nevertheless, I felt welcomed. I left feeling restored and happy I'd made the half hour walk to my mat. Will I do it again? Of course! Probably tomorrow, in fact. I'm happy to have stepped out of my comfort zone for a little while. But do I miss Studio 330? Like crazy. Can't wait to get back.

There are no earth-shattering revelations here, so I'll just take a second to recommend The Yoga Loft and ask you to take a few minutes out of your weekend to try something scary in the name of sweat. It might just work out.

Day 244 - Authenticity

Today I happened upon the always-lovely Jen of Studio330, fearless leader of Sunday night Meds Yoga.

Though briefly interrupted by a gentleman with a large walking stick and a bone to pick, we had the chance to chat at length about cats, the capacity of Studio330, and my 365 day challenge.

In this context, we discussed authenticity.

On reflection, I realised I hadn't really covered the topic of authenticity to any depth in my blog posts. I think it's an important idea to discuss, since it motivates this challenge in a substantial way.

One of the questions I ask when I see myself or my colleagues, teachers, and mentors eating junk food, managing stress poorly, or failing to be even minimally physically active is how we can take care of other when we don't take care of ourselves. Of course, I mean that in quite a literally way - how can we maintain the stamina and strength we need to get through long days and nights thinking clearly and critically if we are not, ourselves, well? But part of the role of the physician is, I believe, to lead by example, to educate, and to advocate for healthy practices. 

How, then, can we be effective health care providers if we can't communicate healthy practices with the authenticity that comes from living them?

I recognise that as health care providers - doctors, nurses, residents, students, and allied health professionals - our lives are busy and often stressful. It's hard to create time and space for eating well, being physically active, and managing our own mental health. Shifts are long. Patients are sometimes demanding. Our colleagues and teachers are frequently even more demanding. As students, we leave the wards only to go home and hit the books for hours. 

Yet, I believe patients often know when we are bullshitting them, even when our intentions are good and we think we are truly too busy to exercise.. 

Sometimes it's pretty easy to tell from physical appearance and bodily habitus that someone eats too much sugar, fat, or processed crap, and sometimes it's not at all obvious. Similarly, sometimes you don't need too keen an eye to recognise that someone hasn't seen the inside of a gym, pool, or pair of running shoes in a long time, and sometimes it's more difficult. Either way, patients know when we are giving them a song and dance. They know that even when we are telling them to think positive we sometimes feel their chances are bleak. They know when we are unsure of ourselves. And they certainly know when we aren't practicing what we preach.

I'm not sure whether it's because we don't speak with confidence when we tell them that it's not so hard to take a half hour out of their busy day to go for a walk. Maybe it's because we cast our eyes to the side when we suggest they cut out sugary drinks. Or maybe it's just that feeling we all get when we are speaking with someone who is not speaking with integrity.

I truthfully don't know what it is that lets patients know we aren't speaking from a place of honesty, but I don't want to become that health care provider you just can't trust. 

I want to lead by healthy example, and I want to encourage you to, as well.

Day 210 - Shit Happens

This is a blog post about when things go wrong.

You don't get to not give a kick at the end just because bad shit went down.

Because things went pretty wrong this weekend.

I signed up a while ago for A Midsummer Night's Run, which is an annual run in support of the Division of Rheumatology at Sickkids. Three distances are offered - 5k, 15k, and 30k. I signed up for 30k, thinking it was the perfect distance. It was long enough to be motivating, but not so long that I'd have to do any serious training to prepare. 

It sounded like fun.

Normally the run takes place at the Beach(es - I am not getting into the Beach vs. Beaches debate) neighbourhood in Toronto, and - as far as I knew - this summer's run would be no different. I was happy to be doing a run in Toronto, where I could hopefully get a few friends to come out and cheer me on, then maybe go out for a couple of drinks and some yummy food.

A couple of weeks prior to the race, the organisers sent out an announcement that the race had been relocated due to construction near Cherry Beach, and would now be taking place at Centre Island. Apparently a number of racers withdrew their entry at that point, and I realised belatedly that I probably should have as well. The move to the Island created a logistical nightmare when it came to having friends come over and spend some time before the race, especially because it was a beautiful, sunny weekend, and Figment was taking place on the Island on the same day as the race. Randi and I made it over to the Island in good time, but Katie made it right before I started running, and Cecelia and Sura didn't even get over to the Island until the race had already begun, both after standing in line for ages just to get a ticket and get on the ferry.

The race itself was an absolute disaster.

First, the course wasn't secured at all, and runners were dodging pedestrians, cyclists, and kids left and right. One runner couldn't stop fast enough to avoid knocking over a toddler, and was visibly shaken. I initially didn't find it too terrible, since I was running with a big group of runners in the 3:15 pace group, but once I pulled out on my way up to the 3h pace group, and I was a bit more alone, it got pretty bad - running without a big group meant fighting through the sea of oblivious non-runners alone. 

Second, the course was really poorly marked, meaning we had to rely on a bunch of uninterested high school volunteers to direct us around in between pushing each other, watching Justin Bieber videos, and trying to embarrass one another by yelling, "But I don't want to take my pants off!" Some of the volunteers were great, but the ones that weren't really made the course situation much worse. By the time it got late (the race started at 5:30 p.m.), the course was so dark that we were all picking carefully through the grass, and over steps and bridges, never sure we were still going in the right direction.

I look happy, but trust me - I'm not.

Third, the course itself was truly dangerous. The terrain was uneven, which would have been fine for a trail race, but this was meant to be a road race, and most of us were prepared for a road race. The worst part was the boardwalk, which 30k runners had to traverse three times.

This is where things started going really badly for me.

Around 19k, I was on my second pass over the boardwalk. I was on my way to a good time, probably well under 3h. I was a couple hundred metres behind the 3h pacer, but I know that I tend to run much faster during the last bit of a run, and I was quite sure I could pull ahead of the 3h group and finish somewhere near the 2:45 group. 

As I was starting to pull forward, someone hit one of the loose boards on the rickety boardwalk and the board pushed up just as I was coming to it. I caught my toe and went flying. One of the girls running behind me said it was truly a spectacular fall. All I know is that when I landed I had scraped up my knee, banged up my elbow, twisted my ankle, and somehow left a dirty footprint on my own thigh. The runners behind me (and those who had run over and past me in an attempt not to bail, themselves, stopped to see if I was okay, and I sent them on. 

I got up, dusted myself off, and decided not to continue. 

My arm. Ouch.

I realised I was pretty banged up, so I turned back to find a volunteer who could tell me how to get back to my friends. After walking about a kilometre, and finding neither a medical first responder nor a volunteer, I gave up and figured I would finish. I ended up mostly walking (limping?) the last third of the race, with some brief periods of running. I did end up sprinting in at the very end.

My leg. Ouch.

In the end, I was happy that I'd stuck with it and finished the race. Coming in at3h31, I was sadly way over the time I had projected for myself around the 19k mark, but I know I would have been disappointed in myself had I given up. Over the next few hours, my ankle underwent an impressive growth spurt, and I think I will need to take some time off running to let it heal. I suspect it is just sprained, but it's pretty tough to walk today, and I am feeling pretty sorry for myself.

I found out after the race that several runners had gone down on the boardwalk, and I heard that one was taken to hospital after her fall.

And then we had to wait in line for over an hour to catch the ferry home.

This isn't an inspirational post. There is no heartwarming message, and no punchline.

Here's a picture. I think it's my what the eff face:

Day 205 - No Meat Athlete

Today my dinner was a bowl of brown rice, lentils, and black beans cooked in a mix of coconut milk and water, and topped with steamed summer squash, zucchini, and carrots fresh from my CSA farm share (I belong to Root Radical, if you're interested; google 'community shared agriculture' for CSAs in your area).

No meat.

I've been vegetarian since starting high school (that's 16 years ago, for those of you counting), and I guess you could say I've become progressively more strict as I've learned more about food production and eating well without meat. Initially, I cut out red meats as a way of testing the waters. As time went on, I decided I would rather leave fish and other seafood to someone else as well. I currently avoid gelatin, cheeses made with real rennet, and beers that use animal products like isinglass in their production (okay, okay, I just don't like beer). I continue to eat eggs and cheese sparingly, usually replace cow milk with an alternate product derived from coconut or flax, and cannot really ever get enough yoghourt.

The second most common question I'm asked when people find out I'm vegetarian is how I manage to stay energetic and active, and build muscle, on a vegetarian diet.

(The first most common question is why I choose to eat a vegetarian diet, but that's a topic for another day and a different blog. Ditto for the third most common question: Why aren't I vegan? The fourth most common question is easy to answer: No, I don't miss meat. I don't even remember what it tastes like. Nope, not even bacon.).

I'm not sure that my answer to that question is totally satisfying. I adopted a vegetarian diet as I was entering a high level of competitiveness in synchronised swimming, so I never had the option of not being healthy and energetic, and I had excellent resources available to me in the form of coaches who cared for the well-being of their athletes and were well-versed in the dietary needs of adolescent girls. By the time I reached adulthood, eating well as an active vegetarian had become second nature.

Nevertheless, here are a few scientifically-unfounded tips from me to any burgeoning vegetarian athletes out there:

1. Do your research.

I took a nutrition course in college. It didn't make me a nutritionist, but I did learn a few surprising facts. For instance, vegetarians tend to eat more nutrient dense foods than omnivores, leading to a pattern more in step with current dietary recommendations than most modern omnivorous diets. I also remember calculating my protein requirements and being surprised to find that I far exceeded my needs on most days. There are a lot of myths out there about vegetarians lacking iron and B12, but the truth is that it's not hard to get what you need if you do your research and are smart about what you're eating and how you're eating it.

2. Speak to a nutritionist.

I thought I had a pretty good handle on being a healthy vegetarian by the time I started university, but I still took advantage of free access to a nutritionist through health services at my school. I actually benefited quite a lot from recording my dietary habits and having a professional analyse them. I learned about optimising aspects of my diet, including eating iron-rich and vitamin C rich food items together to increase iron uptake. A good nutritionist can offer you great evidence-based information that can help you tailor the foods you eat to the active lifestyle you pursue.

3. Be adventurous.

The nutritionist I met with in university also helped me diversify my diet. I've come to believe that this is a really important aspect of a being a vegetarian. I've found that many friends I've seen try vegetarian diets replace meats with foods they are already familiar with, making them likely to overeat on large portions of pasta, breads, and other grain products. I've been guilty of this myself. Thing is, there are lots of countries around the world that offer interesting vegetarian cultures and cuisines, and the opportunity to try new things - and bring different proportions of micro- and macro-nutrients into your diet - are pretty much endless. I've found a sense of adventure has helped me to be a healthier vegetarian athlete, and probably a happier (and less hungry!) person.

4. Check the label.

I am always surprised to find packaged foods (and stuff you order in restaurants!) with hidden animal products, like chicken broth or gelatin. Check the label and be sure about what you're getting.

It's also important to recognise that a product that's labelled "vegetarian" or "vegan" isn't necessarily any healthier than its meat-based counterpart. In fact, a lot of prepared and pre-packaged vegetarian foods are high in empty calories, sodium, and other stuff most of us, vegetarian and non-vegetarian alike, want to limit in our daily diets. Be smart and check the label. If you haven't had much experience in reading labels, Health Canada has some resources to help you find what you're looking for. 

5. Learn to cook.

Healthier, cheaper meals are a big benefit of learning to cook and packing your own breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. There are tonnes of great resources out there for learning to cook great vegetarian fare. I find most of my recipes in places like epicurious and foodgawker, but I've heard awesome stuff about the Rebar cookbook, which is much-loved by vegetarians and omnivores alike. Fresh also offers a great series of cookbooks.

6. Access resources.

There's no shortage of vegetarian resources out there. PubMed is a great place to start searching for information about the benefits and disadvantages of vegetarian diets, for those scientifically-minded would-be vegetarian athletes. Vegetarian friends are usually more than willing to offer friendly advice about being a healthy and active vegetarian (just choose a healthy, active vegetarian friend, because there are plenty of vegetarians out there who survive on french fries and veggie burgers). Blogs like Eat and Run (by ultramarathoner and vegan Scott Jurek) and No Meat Athlete, from which I shamelessly stole this entry's title, provide great first-hand accounts, plus tips and tricks for thriving as a vegetarian or vegan athlete.

I guess what I want to stress is that it's possible to be a happy and healthy vegetarian and not find your athletic development hindered. You just need to do a little homework.

I've run two half-marathons and a marathon, competed at FINA Masters Worlds and more national-level competitions than I'd care to count, dragonboated, climbed walls, paddled canoes and kayaks, and hiked to my heart's content on a vegetarian diet. 

I have certainly failed to meet my own athletic goals from time to time, but always been due to a failure to plan, train, or prepare myself, and never because I failed to eat meat.

(I think I need to bring some pictures back to this blog...stay tuned.)