the final countdown..

I've said it once, and I'll say it again - the week leading up to the Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer presented by Evraz is always an interesting one for me. The truth is, no matter how many times I've done the ride now (going on 4!), plus the countless training rides following the same route, there are always fears, always questions of whether or not I am physically capable of completing it. And of course, there are feelings of loss and sadness for those I am riding in honour of... and lastly, the excitement of joining thousands of other people in this incredibly well-organised weekend. It's pretty safe to say that it's an emotional roller coaster. Every. Single. Year.

The truth is, the ride has given my life so much more meaning that I could have ever thought possible. This might be cliché, and you may not think that the fundraising efforts have that great of an effect on the battle against cancer: but to me, its so much more than that. Four years ago, I remember sitting at the University on one of my long breaks between classes wondering to myself if I would ever be able to complete this ride. I went back and fourth: my inner angel and devil providing their own insight on whether or not to sign up, and, finally (with the help of some encouragement): I did it. I immediately thought to myself "what did I get myself into?" - and that's where it all started. Little did I know that four years later I would be so invested in something that had previously worried me so much. Obviously I still question my ability to complete the ride (yes, even after riding it three times without fail), but I never could have imagined how much this weekend would mean to me every year.

So what does the ride mean to me now?

It's something for me to be excited about. It's a weekend that brings up raw emotions and thoughts of people I have lost, the world has lost. It's a huge group of unbelievably supportive individuals who come together to make a whole, with a common goal for good. It's incredibly inspiring and at the same time devastatingly heart breaking all at the same time. It's something positive for me to pour my energy into: whether its through fundraising, training or trying to convince others to do it - it takes up time and leaves me feeling happy and strong. It's a chance for me to share my story, and to learn about the stories of those around me. It's a chance to feel apart of something, and apart of something big.

So to everyone who has been a part of the journey so far, or who plan to be in the future... I cannot thank you enough. Your support = my motivation.

And to anyone riding this weekend, I wish you the best of luck - and i hope that your experience is half as enriching as mine has been. See you there.

Year 1 - Starting line

Year 2 - Starting line

Year 3 - Somewhere along the route

PS, What's a post about a furnishing without a link to the donation page... ;)

http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Alberta2017?px=3594558&pg=personal&fr_id=1592

Being honest.

I have goals.

Okay, so we all have goals. But I have goals that I get obsessed with. And not obsessed in a good way, but obsessed in a way that drives me to measure my progress every. single. day. which, if you have ever had fitness goals you'll know is not how it works. I also like numbers. I like concrete proof when i've reached my goals (or when I haven't) - and I take this proof to heart.

Two months ago, with the advice of a fantastic and supportive trainer, I decided to lock my scale away. At first, it was terrifying.. And I am not going to lie, the first week was really hard! But, after that, it just became normal. I didn't wake up in the morning and step on the scale first thing. I didn't weight myself getting in (or out) of the shower and I didn't weigh myself after going to the washroom - just to see the difference (don't pretend you've never done this - its a real thing, I think?). Translated: I had 0 idea if I was gaining or losing those pesky couple of pounds that seem to fluctuate day to day, and in all honesty, it felt great! I know that I need physical activity, and I (generally) know what I need nutritionally, so I carried on with my normal, scale-free life.

This week, however, I decided to reconsider my diet and work with that same trainer to create a new nutrition plan (because if you want something new, you need to do something new!). She asked for photos, measurements and wait for it... my weight. Damn. Almost two months I hadn't weighed myself, and suddenly, all the feelings of hitting the scale came spiralling back to me. I'm not going to lie, it took me about half an hour to convince myself to do it - putting it off as long as I could by doing my measurements and pictures first, and then guess what? I climbed up on a stool and took my scale down from the highest shelf in my bathroom, and stepped on it. I read the numbers and almost cried, it was my worst nightmare... I had gained 3 pounds!!! I know what you're thinking: 3 pounds really isn't that much.. But, to me, it was. And then, something crazy (or maybe rational) happened inside my brain. I decided to pull out my last set of measurements and compare them to the ones I had just taken, and saw the difference: I have lost centimetres in almost every single one of my measurement areas.

This next part is dedicated to every single person who has ever told me (or anyone, really) that the scale doesn't matter and that it isn't always and accurate tool for measuring success - call it your "I told you so" moment. I have decided to put the scale back away, indefinitely. And in the off chance I need to use it for one reason or another (similar situation, doctor's appointment, even curiosity) I'll look back at this experience and remember - weight is just a number.