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.
Day-to-day life, Family, Kids

Well, this is unexpected.

Christine Cogger

33.3km separate me from the kids today.  That, in and of itself, is not unusual.  I go to work, they do their thing, and so it goes.  Our little family has been spoiled of late as Jay hasn’t been on the road as much, my schedule has allowed for some flexibility and Ann is always in the background with a helping hand.

But today, as I dropped the boys off at school and Anja at daycare, it really hit me that once I head South on Highway 99, they are on their own in this little village until I come back at 5pm.  Jay’s fall travel schedule has kicked in, Ann’s back at school.  I’m 33.3 kms away.

The kids were fine as I waved goodbye and watched their little selves walk away.  Nothing different in their worlds, really.  Friends, puddles, activities…  I, on the other hand, got hit with an overwhelming wave of separation anxiety that I just can’t seem to shake.  I mean, what if they forget about their after school activity and stand in the school parking lot waiting for me for hours? What if the road gets closed?  What if, what if, what if…

Surely, this too shall pass.  I damn well hope so, otherwise it’s going to be a very long winter.

"you go first".
“you go first”.
Day-to-day life, Random

Stop it with the busy

Christine Cogger

This morning was not one of our more efficient mornings when it came to getting out of the house.  We all woke up just a few minutes later than usual and those few minutes tend to make things noticeably more frantic when trying to get 3 kids out the door, 1 adult to one job and the other to another office.  We all made it, despite some raised voices and (1) construction delay.

I barely made it to my meeting on time, and then floated from task to task for the rest of the day, before coming home to reconnect with the little people.  I didn’t take a lot of time to do much of anything else between tasks but I did force myself to sit outside at lunch and read an actual paper paper – such a luxury these days – and avoid screens for 30m.

This got me thinking about this article I read the other day.  I don’t think I’ve read anything better in ages.  The only thing I’d have done differently would be to change the title from “PLease Stop Complaining About How Busy You Are” to “Shut up with the busy, already.”  Seriously.  The more I hear the “ohmygodimsobusysobusysobusy” refrain, the more I have to peel my eyes out from the back of my head, the results of rolling them so hard.  It’s interesting that people try to “out-busy” each other.  Why would you strive to be more busy? Lord, how dreadful. I’d rather strive to be like my more zen-like friends (hi, Tandy! Hi Martin!)

Everyone’s busy.  I get it.  But guess what?  No one wants to hear about it.

I caught myself answering a “how are you” question with that typical “oh so busy” response the other day but I caught myself: God, how obnoxious.  Am I really so busy that this person cares to hear about it?  Bleh.  No, thank you.

So next time you ask me how I’m doing, I’ll have a host of responses ready, none of which will refer to the state of my Outlook Calendar, to-do list or how much I need to get done in X amount of time.  I promise.

See these girls? Not busy. Lots of awesome. Chilling after the Pemberton Terry Fox run.
See these girls? Not busy. Lots of awesome. Chilling after the Pemberton Terry Fox run.
Family

One Year Gone.

Christine Cogger

Bubbles

One year ago, my mum passed away after a very long battle with cancer. We were at her side and, strange of it sounds, I cherish that moment. It’s not something that I can easily explain.

Some days, it feels as though years have passed since she left us and other feel as though it was only yesterday. I’ve been dreading the anniversary and, as expected, her birthday a few days ago was a difficult day. Today isn’t much better.

I’ve been thinking of what I’d write on this day. At first, I thought about writing about all the things that had happened during this past year that she’s missed. But the reality is that I think that’s too hard for me to do and besides, it’s something I do by myself everyday. When I’m on a run, or whenever one of the kids do something silly or something crazy happens, I always think something along the lines of “can you believe this?!” I still reach for the phone or think to jot her a quick email. I suspect that instinct won’t ever fade.

A few months after her death, rather than have a funeral, we had a Celebration of Life. I’m quite certain she would have *hated* a morose affair and so we celebrated her life by gathering our families and friends and sharing our memories of her. It was a day I will always remember.

I thought I’d share what I said that day.

Thank you all for coming and sharing this day with us. Mum would have surely liked to see you all and catch up on all the news. But she didn’t much like parties or being the centre of attention… so she’s probably the one who made it snow yesterday. She’s probably somewhere waving her hands and wondering what all the fuss is about.

I’d like to extend a special thank you to all those who supported her and my dad throughout her illness. Her friends and this special community. There are too many of you to name individually but we know she felt loved and cared for and never alone.

I’d like to recognize her doctors and nurses; Dr Barakett and Dr Koopman. I’m sure she wasn’t the easiest patient but she trusted her doctors implicitely and we all knew she was getting the best care possible. Her nurses, Nicole and Helene, made a huge impact on all our lives and we’ll always be thankful for your caring and understanding.

The words of support and love these past few weeks have helped me to realize how many people mum touched throughout her life. So many of her peers have shared stories of how they were affected by her strength and how they were inspired by her. So many of my peers like to remind me of how scary she was to them when we were growing up!

A few stories to illustrate this fact:

One summer, I was working with 2 guys who would become lifelong friends, Dave and Ryan. We were bored one evening and, after what were no doubt several beers or rye and gingers, the boys decided to introduce me to the game of Red Ass. We were being idiots and laughing and trouncing each other. Mid-way through the game, I heard something and turned to see Mum on the porch, watching us. Glass of wine in hand, she shook her head at us and asked “just what in the hell are you three doing?” It stopped Dave and Ryan in their tracks and has become lore between the 3 of us – particularly when one of them butchers her accent.

Later that summer – I was maybe 16 or 17, friends and I were out together partying on an island near our home. As my curfew came and went, I was still on the island at the mercy of friends driving the boat to get me home. At this point, I had sort of figured “well, you can’t be more late, right?”

Wrong.

When I finally got dropped off at home, I asked my friends to drop me at the end of our long driveway, in the hopes that no one would hear me and I’d get away scott-free.

Wrong.

As I walked up the driveway, the dogs started to bark from our screened-in porch.

“SHHHHHHHH”, I hissed.

That’s when I looked up, saw the glowing ember of Mum’s cigarette in the dark and heard her say “Don’t bother. I’m Awake”.

Needless to say, I was in deep shit.

Mum raised us to be strong, resilient and independent individuals. When I look at my brothers and my kids, I know how proud she was of all of us and I can only hope to be the kind of parent to them that she was to us – including that healthy dose of the scary part.

What I miss most now and think I will continue to miss for a very long time is not having her with me to share the silly things in life. When my kids say something funny or I get myself into some sort of ridiculous situation, she’s still the first person I think to email or call, and I can’t seem to shake that feeling. So if you are looking for someone to fill your inbox with silly quotes from 4 year olds, let me know – I’m your girl.

But I am thankful that my brothers and I had the kind of relationship with our Mum where we could share things anddespite the fact that we all live in different time zones, we always felt connected to her.

A few hours before she fell asleep for the last time, she looked at me and patted my cheek and told me not to look so worried, to go out and do something.

So let’s. Let’s DO something. Let’s raise a toast to a our mum, our sister, our friend. Let’s vow to remember her as the strong, opinionated, caring, funny, scary and determined woman she was and carry her with us on our adventures and life.

To Erica.

page3image5896

Biking, Day-to-day life, Running, Triathlon

It’s on.

Christine Cogger

gold-star

 

If surgery recovery were a race, I’d totally win. I got a gold star from the surgeon today at my 6 week post-op check up.

Doc: “So, did you wear your sling for six weeks?”

Me: “EVERY GODDAMN DAY!”

Doc: (…) Wow.  That’s a passionate response.

She was particularly pleased with the muscle waste around my shoulder, proving that I had, in fact, done what I was told.

Bottom line? This girl has the green light to swim, bike and run again.

It’s about time.

Now if only I could do something about those wrinkles.
Now if only I could do something about those wrinkles.
Pemberton, Triathlon, Whistler

Ironman Canada – the aftermath.

Christine Cogger

IMC

Doesn’t the word aftermath have a terrible ring to it? I’m going to have to think of something nicer to say. Afterglow?

Ironman Canada came to whistler – Veni, Vidi, Vici. But in this case, it wasn’t a hostile takeover by any means – I truly believe the towns, both Whistler and Pemberton, got won over by this event, in the best way possible.

Were there first year ‘birthing’ pains? Sure there were. Are there things that need to be fixed to make it better/safer/more convenient/easier to navigate? Absolutely. Were there grumblers and mumblers who, no matter how hard you tried, you’d never make happy? Yes. But I think that will be the case because, as I’m learning to accept, you really can’t make everyone happy.

wurtele

There’s no doubt I’m biased here. I’ve raced Ironman, so I felt pretty confident going into this weekend that folks who come ’round after watching it. I was working for the organization so I had a front row seat to the goings-on, but I was also able to use my “local’s knowledge” (condescending as that sounds) to help organizers with weird tasks, answer athlete’s quirky questions and help volunteers as best I could.

I was easy to spot: “Go ask the girl in the sling”.

Some highlights:

  • Hearing Suzanne sing the National Anthem on Friday night and thinking, “Holy shit. This is really happening.”
  • Walking to the swim start and realizing that we had greatly under-estimated how many people would come down to watch in person. And it was so, so worth it. Fog, sunrise, nervous energy and a cannon-shot to kick off the day
  • Taking 30m out of my day, ignoring my phone and sitting on the trail with Gabi to cheer on friends and strangers alike. This may have been my favourite part of the day.
  • Seeing John finish was great – but seeing how proud of him his mother was was pretty special. It reminded me of how proud my mum had been of me after my first Ironman and the teary phone call we had.
  • The late night or early morning tired giggles with colleagues. Those are the best.
  • Watching the 2 drunk guys on a bench outside of the coffee shop make fun of triathletes and their compression socks. C’mon – that’s pretty funny.
I don't know who this is, but I kind wanted to heckle him.
I don’t know who this is, but I kind wanted to heckle him.
  • Working with a tremendous crew of hard-working, generous and genuinely nice people; you’re all welcome back anytime (except for the guy who stood there and watched me struggle to load boxes on a dolly with one arm, and didn’t lift a finger. You can stay home next year.)
Pretty happy that Will took advantage of Expo freebies.
Pretty happy that Will took advantage of Expo freebies.

On Tuesday night, I attended the Pemberton info session and was blown away by the fact that I’d say 90% of the comments were positive and those that were not were constructive, not petty or vindictive. It was really refreshing.

I’m already looking forward to next year.

And no, I didn’t sign up.

—

On a more personal note, on my final day with Ironman I got a called that left me shaken and more than a little heartbroken; Macy had died unexpectedly that morning.

I’m so glad that this has been the summer of Macy. She went where she pleased, slept on all the furniture and got more than her fair share of treats. Her final breakfast included prawns…

I’ll miss you, you silly girl.

13 years young
13 years young
Pemberton, Triathlon, Whistler

Don’t hold your tongue

Christine Cogger

As anyone living in the Sea-to-Sky corridor knows, Ironman Canada is here this week.  So far, things have been going smoothly and the general feeling from the athletes is that of excitement and nervous anticipation.

From what I can tell, that feeling is mostly shared by Whistler residents and Pemberton appears to be the linchpin in the success of the race.

That said, if you live in Pemberton and have an opinion, you have a perfect opportunity to share it: The Ironman Community Feedback session.  When we want to grumble about something, we tend to do it with our friends, our neighbours, our hairdresser…

So if you have something to say, say it!  This is your chance.  Better yet, come equipped with constructive feedback, proposed solutions, ideas and information you feel is worth sharing.

Changes can’t happen if the right people don’t know about them.

—

On a lighter note:

Workation, Day 5.

i_poured_redbull_in_my_coffee_this_morning_i_can_see_sounds__2013-07-07

Day-to-day life, Racing, Triathlon, Whistler

Workation.

Christine Cogger

My workation began yesterday.  What’s that, you say?  Why it’s simple.  It’s where you take a week off from your “real” job and immerse yourself into another job.  In this case, that other job would be Ironman Canada.  Because the reality is… if you can’t race ’em, join ’em!

Sidebar: I cannot believe that it’s been 8 years since my last Ironman.  Yeesh.

I won’t lie and pretend that seeing all these athletes on our roads and trails all summer hasn’t made me totally envious, because it has.  Triathlon FOMO in full effect!  But this gig is kind of assuaging me and I think it will likely keep me busy enough that you won’t find me in the registration lineup come Monday morning.  I think.

So should you find yourself in the Expo with some time to kill, do come find me and throw me a high five.  I’ll be easy to spot: I’m the  short one in the sling telling people where to put stuff.

me

Day-to-day life

The Un-update.

Christine Cogger
Teeny hardware
Teeny hardware

 

And that’s exactly what it is.  A non-update.  Status Quo.  No change.  Keep on keepin’ on.  I met with the surgeon yesterday.  Our conversation went like this.

Doc: “Everything looks great, you are right on track”.

Me: “Amazing!  I brought a list of questions.”

Doc: “Ok, let’s hear them”

And then it went like this:

Me: “Can I…”

Doc: “No.”

Me: “Ok.  Could I then…”

Doc: “No.”

Me: “Right.  How about…”

Doc: “No.”

And so it went for all 8 of my questions – which, let’s face it, were all asking in one way or another for a Get Out Of Jail Free Card.  But the truth is that I have 3 weeks and 6 more days left in the sling (also known as the arm cooker as per Anja – and a truer name was never assigned, given its black polyester nature and the 32C nights).

And so onwards I go, perfecting my left hand-typing, mouse-maneuvering, veggie-chopping skills.  But I still can’t tie my own shoes.