I am not a writer. I dabble in parenting, sport and making fun of myself. I'm good at coffee. I love where I live and the things I get to do.
Author: Christine Cogger
I am not a writer. I like my kids, coffee, running around and reading about you. I live in the most incredible part of the world and am lucky enough to live some pretty great adventures.
It’s a lot easier to write a post about a race that goes totally sideways than it is to write one about a race that goes well. What am I supposed to say? “Blah blah blah I ran well, felt good, it was sunny, set a great big PR, go me.”
Boring, right? Plus, that pretty much sums it up.
Therefore, please allow me to share 2 elements of my race that I feel I really nailed.
1. Pre-race bathroom location
I believe this is a personal best for me in terms of timing and lineup brevity. I really surprised myself here and will refuse to divulge the location of this bathroom for fear that it will ruin things for me should I ever run this race again.
2. Race outfit
In my humble opinion, it’s extremely important to wear all of the colours available to you when toeing the line in a race. I feel like I preformed well here, with the exception perhaps of socks. In this case, I sacrificed colour for fit but in the future, screw it, colour wins because no matter what I wear, my feet hurt anyway at the end. Also, my hair clashed with my sunglasses. Something to work on in the future.
Lastly, you know that when your training partner/race pacer /bestie crosses the line seconds behind you and whispers “F— you”, you know it’s been a good one.
Bring it on, 2015!
The lighting fails to really capture the brightness of this outfit.
She with the longest arms takes thy selfie
I call this “hey guys! wait! wait for me! hey guys!”
I was thumbing through some crappy magazine in the checkout line at the grocery store the other night and read one of those “What’s in your bag” articles (and I use the term “article” very, very lightly here).
I scoffed at how totally ridiculous this list was because, mainly, it was way too perfect. I challenge anyone to upend a bag they use consistently and not find an old balled up kleenex, a wrapper of something or a pen that doesn’t work. These perfectly styled layouts? Not my reality.
Let’s start with the fact that the bag I carry most often is a GIGANTIC backpack that doubles as carryall, locker room, computer bag and mobile snack station.
While it’s big enough to carry pretty much everything I own, I know that I look like a kindergardener trundling along on her first day of school when I wear it. I also realize that should I fall over backwards while wearing it when it’s fully full, it might be Game Over.
Since I am currently training for Ironman (and stuff) and spending a few days a week out of the house away from a home base, I tend to rely on this bag more frequently than usual. So I thought I’d play the game with myself.
“Christine, what’s in your bag?”
Well, let’s see, shall we? (Dumps bag on kitchen floor).
Damp bathing suit + towel;
Swim bag with all manner of swim toys;
Anja’s swim goggles (huh);
2 pairs of running shoes;
Trucker hat, running toque, favourite Planks toque;
Running shorts (forgotten in there from Friday’s workout. Gross.)
5 socks;
3 pairs of underwear: 2 of mine, 1 of Anja’s (useful!);
iPod. Battery dead. Typical.
2 pairs of earbuds;
2 shirts;
1 pair of tights;
Sunglasses (it’s been raining for daaaaaaays);
Running jacket;
$2.85 in change;
A bag of training food;
Water bottle;
A ziploc bag with 2 dates;
Toothbrush;
3 gym pass cards (so THAT’S where they were!)
Travel toiletry kit;
2 sports bras;
Laptop;
Nok anti-chafe cream;
Dry shampoo;
Day planner + pen;
Watch;
2 headbands, countless bobby pins and 7 elastics (and I don’t really tie my hair up).
3 lip balms;
Lots of bits of gravel.
My stylist quit moments after this dumping occurred.
I guess I’ll never get a page in Fashion magazine. But I bet you’re all dying to know what I’d answer to the paparazzi yelling: “Christine, Christine! Who are you wearing?!”
This is a copycat game of sorts. I was inspired by Erin and a few other people I follow in the social media universe. The premise is simple: share 100 things about yourself. It’s kinda narcissistic, but then again, so is having a blog about my life. Good luck making it through the list.
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1. My middle name is Erica, after my mother.
2. I will never be eligible for a Nexxus card. It’s a good story.
3. I have 3 nicknames: SMO, Cogs and Marty.
4. I’ve always been short yet am always surprised by just how short I am.
5. I can remember exactly where I was when I thought of what I wanted to name Will.
6. No such luck for Rory and Anja.
7. I studied Political Science in University and thought I’d always work in politics.
8. The first event I ever produced was a concert at university headlines by the Violent Femmes. I was 18 and clueless.
9. I sold a horse to buy my first “real” mountain bike.
10. I used to hate climbs on my bike. They’d bring me to tears.
11. Now I love them.
12. Rory would have been named that whether he was a boy or a girl.
13. I went to a catholic all-girls boarding school for high school. We nicknamed it the nunnery.
14. I did not go on to become a nun.
15. I finished 4th in my first ever mountain bike race. I was terrified.
16. I’d have been Christopher had I been a boy.
17. I have no interest in water sports. Swimming is the only exception.
18. I was diagnosed with depression 3 years ago and while it’s not stellar, I’m not ashamed of it.
19. I ran the New York Marathon when I was 4 months pregnant with Anja.
20. My first triathlon was Ironman Canada in 2004.
21. I was scared of my best friend for the first 6 months that I knew her. On paper, we should not be friends: we could not be more different.
22. My office at my first “real” job was across from the men’s room. You learn a lot about men’s habits that way.
23. I hated wedding dress shopping.
24. Tomatoes make me gag. So do artichokes.
25. I’ve had a police officer point a machine gun at me at a traffic light in Doha.
26. I was in a car accident with my boyfriend during the 1998 ice storm in Quebec. We were driven home by the Army.
27. I thought we’d flipped the car into a river. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so quickly. We were merely in a field. The river was on the other side of the road.
28. I take pictures almost every day.
For example: today’s photo featured an unidentified substance melted to my paddle.
29. I am almost always sick to my stomach after a hard race.
30. I love eating and I think about food A LOT.
31. I’ve been on the cover of a major metropolitan newspaper.
32. Spiders and cockroaches gross me out.
33. I was with my mother when she drew her last breath. I am thankful for that.
34. I don’t like wearing black.
35. I decided to teach myself to like red wine at the Seattle Marathon in 2004. It worked.
26. I’ve had 4 surgeries, all on the right side of my body.
27. I have 3 screws in my body.
28. I tried to learn to surf on the North Shore of Oahu.
29. I ended up in hospital with 21 stitches in my face.
30. I once broke both arms in the same summer (one right after the other). Worst summer ever.
31. I think I have an addictive personality.
32. My favourite movie is the Sound of Music.
33. I like going to bed early.
34. I’ve been known to make exceptions for a good party or a wedding.
35. I hate getting into an unmade bed.
36. I’m half-Dutch.
37. I love a good kitchen dance party.
38. I did not particularly enjoy being pregnant. Any of the 3 times. I definitely wasn’t that glowy pregnant lady.
39. If I could get a free ride back to university, I’d study international relations and religion.
40. When I decide I want a haircut, I want it done right. freaking. now.
41. I have to read every night in order to fall asleep.
42. My first half marathon was in Victoria in 2001. I still have the cotton shirt.
43. My favourite piece of jewellery is a little gold helicopter my dad gave my mum.
44. I think helicopters are the coolest thing ever.
45. I love Hawaii.
46. I want to live in Europe and visit Africa.
47. I harbour the exact same loathing for sunburns and hangovers: both self-inflicted and preventable.
48. I’ve lived in the mountains for 15 years. Bears still scare me.
49. I’m indifferent to hiking and camping.
50. I like flying if I’m by myself.
51. I stood next to Chris Noth in a Starbucks in Maui. I didn’t recognize him, Jay had to point him out.
52. Early morning is my favourite part of the day.
53. I get annoyed by dumb grammar errors and I make them more often than I should.
54. I swear in front of my kids. Often.
55. I have no plans to bungee jump or sky dive. EVER.
56. I lived on a farm until I was 18 years old.
57. I consider myself an introverted extrovert (or extroverted introvert).
58. There is no better feeling than laughing so hard you’re crying, and your kind of hurts when you’re done.
59. If you’ve made it this far, there’s a skill testing question at the end.
60. When I have bouts of insomnia, I try to fall back asleep by mentally renovating my house from top to bottom. When it works, I don’t make it past the front hallway.
61. I once delivered a foal by myself as the vet was delayed.
62. I was born and raised in Quebec but have never bought a poutine.
63. I’ve never had breakfast in bed.
64. I love getting lost in a good book.
65. At one time or another, I have coached tennis, sailing, skiing, mountain biking, riding and triathlon.
66. I’m glad I live in a small town but I love to spend time in the city.
67. I worry every single day that I am screwing up my kids.
68. I’ve ridden a camel.
69. Jelly Beans – the generic kind – are my favourite candy.
70. If it weren’t for my kids, Halloween and Christmas would be regular days for me.
71. I don’t have anything against plastic surgery (in moderation). Do what you gotta do.
72. My first job was in a comic book store. I was frequently bored to tears.
73. I love reading magazines.
74. I was born on a Friday the 13th.
75. I thought of most of these things while out on a run, then promptly forgot many of them when I walked through my front door.
76. I cannot play a single musical instrument.
77. Fingernails scratching along the underside of the hull of a boat is the worst sound in the universe.
78. I drive too fast and always have.
79. I have never tried snowboarding and have no interest in changing that.
80. I’m bilingual and often think in French.
81. On the rare occasion that I buy a lottery ticket, I genuinely believe I am going to win and am shocked when I don’t.
82. Fresh flowers in my house make me happy.
83. I regret not going to University out-of-province.
84. Anja is named for Anja Paerson and it’s a nod to my European heritage. (She got up from that crash and crushed her next race).
85. I’ve owned (and worn!) a pair of green corduroy overalls.
86. I want to retire to a tiny house, preferably somewhere warm.
87. The first band I ever saw in concert was The Police.
88. I was once dive-bombed by an owl. I screamed very, very loudly.
89. I took a journalism class taught by a writer who had written pretty harsh things about my family. I sat in the front row and spent the semester staring him down and making him squirm. It was fun. I passed the class with flying colours.
90. I rode up Alpe D’Huez on an ill-fitting bike, having had 3 hours of sleep and a can of coke. I loved it anyway.
91. I jumped off the 10 metre platform and it was so scary that I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t like being that close to the ceiling.
92. There are 2 words in the English language that make me cringe so hard I won’t even type them.
93. I love having cereal for dinner.
94. The only team sport I’ve ever played was Ultimate Frisbee. My career was short.
95. I hate seeing myself on video or hearing the sound of my own voice.
96. I love hot tubs.
97. Math makes my head hurt.
98. Every 2 years, I redevelop an unhealthy obsession with the Olympics.
99. I swam alongside some dolphins once. I thought they were sharks and almost fainted in the water.
100. I’m surprised that I was able to come up with 100 things this quickly. I’m unsure what this says about me.
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Here’s your skill testing question: how many screws are in my body (and no, this should not be interpreted as “how many screws do I have loose”?)
Of late, I seem to have the attention span of a fruit fly. I’m easily occupied, and equally easily distracted. A thought pops into my head, I follow it for a while and *poof* … gone. I come up with what I am certain are going to be great topics for a blog post and again… *poof*… idea gone.
I’ve got lots of ideas swirling today, none of which are worthy of a full post. But surely I can come up with something worthy of a few lines.
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WTF winter? Where art thou? I’m done with this crappy snow and the grey days. As far as I’m concerned it may as well all melt so that I can go play on the trails. We can get a do-over in 2016.
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It’s no secret that I enjoy social media. It’s allowed me to connect with people, learn about new stuff, fill time in waiting rooms, etc. However, my feeds have been filling up lately with this Girl Power trend that is making my eyes roll deep into the back of my skull.
#sweatpink… #XXlikeagirl #fitfluential, etc, etc.
Yawn.
Listen, I’m all for gender equality and encouraging women to participate in sport. In fact, I do whatever I can to talk girlfriends into trying new things, encouraging to get out there and so on. But I can’t stand that all things “girl power/athletic achievement” have to be labelled as something special, just because they were accomplished by a woman.
You don’t see men posting “#sweatblue”, do you? Cue the “can’t we all just get along” argument.
When I grew up, I got along and connected way better with boys than I did with girls and always felt more comfortable around guys. Maybe that’s why all these virtual groups feel so cliquy and exclusionary to me; essentially the opposite of what they are purporting to achieve.
I don’t want my daughter growing to think that in order to kick ass it has to be labelled as something special just because she’s a girl. Perhaps this makes me a bad feminist but it drives me bonkers.
Personally, I don’t get inspired by your pretty Instagram montage showing me that you ran 4.3 miles in pink lipstick with your bestie. I’d rather see a shot of someone – woman or man – busting their ass and pushing themselves to achieve great goals.
A picture of your pretty sunset is nice, too.
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Someone please explain the attraction of strapping a GoPro to your head/chest/end of a stick. In some cases, I totally get it: you’re at the top of the half pipe in the X-Games or you’re Sunny Garcia and you smash your face on your board. That’s hard core and I can absolutely see how people would want to somehow share in this experience.
But if you’re Joe Public and you’re filming yourself skidding down some cruiser run or riding along some bike path for ages, you’ve lost me. Do you go home re-watch what you’ve just finished doing? Do you sit your family down and subject them to your point of view over cocktails?
Seriously. Enlighten me.
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Toques and jeans in the gym.
Guy, aren’t you hot?? Isn’t your head supremely sweaty and itchy? I know I run hot and given the choice would prefer to train in as few pieces of clothing as is respectable but just watching you gives me hives.
Sidebar: do not Google “guys + jeans + gym”. I can’t unsee what I saw.
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The upside of training clicking right along is that it is making me positively itchy to get out and race. I don’t even care what kind of race. I’m planning things I won’t even get to, but that’s half the fun, isn’t it?
We need another matchy-matchy race.What Saturday night looks like around here. Riveting stuff.
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Back in November, a few days (weeks?) past Hallowe’en, I was eating the kids candy like it was my job. I have a serious sweet tooth and it was getting slightly out of hand. Liz was feeling the same way – taunted by the candy bar at her office on a daily basis. A quick text debate led to our next challenge: give up sugar for 1 month. It was a spur of the moment decision and what do you know, it’s been the challenge we’ve done that has had the biggest effect (well, the #FP one was pretty good, too.)
That’s the trouble with being friends with me. I’ll always try to talk you into doing stupid things with me. At least this one wasn’t that stupid.
Sidebar: I was in the pool with a friend and our kids – lots of loud splashing going on around us – and I said “Liz and I are giving up candy for a month.” She heard “Liz and I are giving up panties for a month”. Needless to say, that elicited quite the funny look.
Now accepting suggestions for the next challenge. Participants welcome.
I tried my best to stick to my training plan throughout the madness of the holidays and for the most part, I was successful. Despite the running around, the juggling of schedules and people and the onset of the dreaded norovirus, I was good (and selfish) about getting out the door and doing my thing.
Sometimes, to make it happen, things had to get sacrificed. Fun things… like sleep. Jen and I had been talking about doing a winter run up to Joffre Lakes at some point, and what better point that sunrise on the last day of 2014?
The trail was perfect, the temps were very cold and the wind was howling. Didn’t matter much since the sunrise over the 3rd lake made the effort worthwhile.
It was a perfect final workout for 2014.
Starting under the stars
The view was ok.
Winter waterfall
At the top. The people camping up there were surprised to see us, to say the least.
Mountain top selfie
He had fun, too.
Though he was none too impressed with the pink coat.
There’s a certain constant in my life, that being the loss of a big toe nail every 6-8 months or so. Be it due to running, skiing or someone smashing it with something, it happens without fail.
True enough, a few days ago I said goodbye to another one and Anja asked what was wrong with my foot.
Me: “My toenail fell off.”
Anja: “Guess that’s what happens when you’re old.”
Tonight was my dad’s last night in town, so rather than make dinner at home we figured we’d enjoy dinner out.
Despite having been skiing for most of the day, the kids were fairly wired in the late afternoon – wrestling, yelling, jumping… the usual, really. After many requests to get dressed, put coats on, stop hitting your brother/sister/self, we were finally streaming out the door to the truck.
Standing at the door of the truck, the boys were still bickering and I lost my temper. I grabbed each one by an arm (or maybe the scruff of their necks? Who can remember, really) and marched them back into the house. I stood in the door and told them that I was done, I didn’t care what they did and that we were going out for dinner without them. I turned on my heel and slammed the door.
Now, normally, in situations like these (what — you think I’ve never made this threat before?) one or both of them come barreling behind me with tears in their eyes, begging some form of forgiveness and blaming the other for “starting it.” End of story, usually.
This time, it was eerily quiet as I walked back to the truck. I told Jay to wait a minute – I wanted to “teach the boys a lesson.”
Oh, such famous last words.
Jay said, “Get in the truck, we’ll drive away, they’ll think we’ve gone and that will teach them”, or something to that effect. And so we did. We drove a few hundred meters from the house but… nothing happened. The front door remained closed and the TV remained off (we know, because we can see it from the road). Back to the driveway we go, I tell Jay to go in and get the boys and tell them that “Mum is too mad to come and get you.”
Right about now, the term “backfire” starts to come to mind…
As Jay quietly crept up the stairs, he could hear a very important conversation happening:
“Ok, so what goes in a Mr. Spiff sandwich? Ham! Ok, got that. Where’s the mayo? Oh, here! Do you think we need relish? I dunno – grab it anyway.”
In those few minutes we’d left them to “learn their lesson”, they’d decided they were going to make sandwiches (although they said they wanted spaghetti but didn’t know how to work the microwave for leftovers), have gingerbread cookies for dessert and then watch TV till we got back from dinner. In their minds, a perfect night.
So yes, someone learned their lesson tonight. I learned not to underestimate my boys independence and resourcefulness.
The SMO's stories 