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, Racing, Triathlon

But Ironman is glamourous!

Christine Cogger

Said no one training for one, ever. The chafing. Oh my lord, the chafing.

But the eating! All of the eating is glorious! And a bit exhausting.

I suppose I’ve been pretty quiet around here for the simple fact that life has been rather monotonous in its form of kids/eat/train/eat/work/train/eat/work etc… How’s that for riveting reading? Told you… all glamour, all the time.

Sidebar: did I shower today?

I’m starting to get anxious for this start line. It’s been 8 years since my last Ironman and – not unlike childbirth – I’ve kind of blocked out how hard getting ready for this thing is. I’ve been unceremoniously reminded of that fact, however, in a few of my last key workouts. Not to mention, my deep, deep desire for sleep. Case in point: 

Last week, I was lying on the floor as the kids were watching a movie (apparently, it was too trying for me to heave myself onto the couch). I’m yawning and stretching, wondering aloud when the movie will end so we can call it a night.

Anja turns to me and in her 5 year old wisdom says: “Mama, it’s ok. You got to bed, we’ll tuck ourselves in.”

I suppose I needed that reminder to put on my big girl pants.

Words to live by.
Words to live by.

I’ve set a lofty goal for myself, one I fully intend to achieve, even if it means going way to the back of the hurt locker to get there: a Kona slot.

Doesn’t that just mean the post-race beer will taste that much better?

3 weeks to go…

It’s a family affair…
Last long ride rewarded with this delightful find on the highway!
See? Glamour. This selfie taken many, many hours post-run. Still in run clothes. Yum.
On rainy days, sometimes you just need a rescue.
So, so sick of race food. But the dog isn’t.
What these 2 think of OWS.
Day-to-day life, Kids

Riddle me this

Christine Cogger

The last few nights, we’ve been doing riddles at the dinner table. It’s pretty funny and engaging and I’ll even admit that occasionally, the kids will stump me (clearly, they’ve learned these harder ones from older kids. Ahem.)

It’s also a time when each of their personalities seem to really shine through. Anja – believe it or not – is usually quiet during these exchanges. It’s like she realizes she’s too little to get it so she just takes it all in. Will takes in each question and mulls them over with some seriousness (that, or he tries to pass of that he’s figured out the answer when in reality he knew it all along from someone else). Rory, true to form, blurts out whatever the first word is that comes to mind: “7! Blue! Crocodile! Turn left!)

Anyway, tonight? Was awesome. The tables turned, ever so slightly…

Me: “What has hands but can’t clap?”

Rory: “…”

Will: “T-REX!”

At this point, I’m pretty sure I alternately shot wine out of mine nose/choked with laughter. Because, damn if he wasn’t right.

6-mistakes-construction-software-buyers

 

(Clocks. The answers is clocks.)

Day-to-day life, Kids

Ratchet back the crazy, people.

Christine Cogger

In light of Anja’s highly disorganized but fun birthday party a few days ago, I thought this was pretty timely.  Her party had friends, cake and junk food, parents and beer, science activities and presents. Yep. Good, old fashioned presents that ranged from a plant – which she loved and cannot wait to stick in the ground – to a doll that she talks to like they are BFFs.

In my opinion, it was a great birthday for a 5 year old. But I’m biased and I digress.

A friend sent me this photo of an invitation given to one of her kids by a classmate. Behold:

IMG_8692

Yeah.

This is a party for a 7 year old. Not a wedding, or … some other occasion where it’s appropriate to ask for money. I mean, come on. I wouldn’t even know how to respond to this! How much does Little Johnny want? Is a gift card to the Home Depot or Starbucks ok? Because I’m pretty sure no presents wasn’t his or her idea.

Maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe Little Lisa is getting a leg up on her college savings, in which case good for her. But maybe don’t do it on the back of your classmates? Gah.

My friend is responding by not going. Which I think is brilliant.

Am I missing something? Since when has this become acceptable? Is this the new normal?

Educate me, people. Educate me.

Kids, QOTD

QOTD

Christine Cogger

The birthday girl’s latest obsession is science (this is an obsession I can totally get behind).

“Do you know how scientists become scientists?”

“No, how?”

“Messes. They make lots of messes.”

I’d say she’s well on her way.IMG_8679

Day-to-day life, Kids, Pemberton

A day in the life.

Christine Cogger

I’m tired.

It’s been a long few weeks of juggling. It’s not a complaint, merely a statement. Much of the fatigue is my own doing, I’ll be the first to admit. I have a hard time saying no and every time I turn around, there’s something being added to the white board calendar in the kitchen.

Last week, I realized that our Wednesdays were kind of ridiculous. As I said to a friend, I organize large-scale events for a living. But ask me to organize my life so that I don’t have to be in 3 places at once? Right. I’m not one to over-program kids. I just tend to program them all on the same day #Fail.

As I drove/biked/walked to one location after another, I mentally chronicled my day. Enjoy (or don’t. This is actually kind of boring).

Boop bee boop bee boop be boop bee doop.. doop… doop… boop bee boop bee boop be boop bee doop…

Recognize that sound? It’s the iPhone signature ring-thingy set to my alarm. It’s 6:15AM. My first though is: “Can I have a nap today?”

The phone is in the kitchen. This is strategic: it will keep beep-booping until I drag myself downstairs.

I go, followed by Kobe (the dog) because there’s a 99.9% chance he will have jumped on the bed at some point while I slept.

Until the kids wake up, I enjoy the quiet house and read emails and the rest of the internet and drink my beloved coffee.

Then, the whirlwind starts. It’s a slow build… but it comes. Usually, Rory comes first – wrapped in a blankie. Anja’s next, having bellowed from bed asking for permission to get up. Will is always last on  school days – he’ll need some prodding to join the fray.

Breakfast. Backpacks. Review homework. Hunt for lost socks. Repeat myself a million times over to get this or that and then, 2/3 of the off spring are out the door to walk to school. I check my watch. It’s 8:15, I have a bit of a breather before the little one goes to science. We go for a dog walk – with fake baby and little pink stroller. Our pace is not quick. Worms are collected, snails herded to the safety of the side of the trail.

IMG_8642

We get home in time to pack snacks and go to science.

Sidebar: Anja has not stopped talking since she got up. At all. It’s like a running, completely irrelevant commentary on our day.

She goes to science in the same building as the gym so I can squeeze in those treadmill intervals I’ve been dreading.

Another sidebar: I got into run gear when I got up. Otherwise, it’s just too easy to skip. Unless I’ve sweated through everything, there’s a solid chance I’ll be peeling those same clothes off at bedtime. Gross, right?! Welcome to my real life. Take it or leave it.

I get the run done with just enough time to have a powwow with my physio who happens to be there at the same time. I’ll consider that a two-for-one because even those 5 minutes make a difference. She always makes time for me and is supremely awesome.

Collect Anja, win the argument stating that I need a shower before our errands. We go home, I shower, she – of course, keeps me company. Heaven forbid I leave her side. She continues her monologue.

I check my watch. It’s 11:20. Errands and a quick lunch stop at the bakery ensue. We take the dog – today, errands on the bike must double as his walk.

We’re home by 1. I have a list as long as my arm of work to do. Dilemma: what to do with the little one? Arts ‘n craps, for now (monologuing the whole way). I’m having a hard time concentrating after 45m and anyway, she spills food colouring everywhere, so I give up and hand her the iPad. Check the calendar to remind myself how many days before Jay returns from Asia.

What’s that sound? Oh, right. QUIET.

Text message. Zumba cancelled. Can Anja come Friday instead of this afternoon? Yes! Win! That removes one of my 3 locations. Make mental note about Friday, then remember that mental notes are useless to me – white board it is.

I check the time. 2PM. I have 1 hour before we’re off again; I power through some work, diligently avoiding the piles of laundry, the messy playroom and the dishes. Also, sad dog eyes.

We’re off again. Meet Will to pick him up from dodgeball, throw him a snack and send him to soccer. High five Rory who’s at science. We’ll be back for you, buddy (mental note: don’t forget Rory).

Shit. Dinner. I check the time: 4:45PM. Mile One, my non-negotiable, go-to best-ever dinner option on Wednesdays is closed for 2 weeks for their (very well deserved) spring break. Decide to try to recreate their burgers at home. Whip to grocery store. Least favourite place.

I check the time. 5:02PM.  Oops, I’m late to get Rory. Pick him up with apologies. He doesn’t seem to care. Dodged that bullet.

Home by 5:30PM. Wonder how people who live in big cities with full-time jobs and deal with traffic do this. At least most of my commuting is by bike or foot. I bow to you. Truly.

Throw together dinner (burgers are ok but the house smells like bacon, so… win?), break up fights, send kids to trampoline in what appears to be a huge windstorm. Oh well. They likely won’t get blown away. I hope.

Will’s dropped off by friends (thank you – it really does take a village otherwise I’d burn dinner even more quickly than usual) and we have a quick dinner, reciting “Apples and Onions” and reviewing our day. Kids have showers (cue: FIGHT) and we get ready to watch “Modern Family”, my one nod to TV for them during the week; I don’t really care if it’s age appropriate or not, we like it. And I barely have to explain gay marriage. Another win.

We sink into couches, and sure enough, minutes in, the doorbell rings. Neighbours want to play. It’s like a cavalcade down the stairs.

Sidebar: Anja: “Go without me! I’ll meet you there! I’m just getting underwear!” It sounds a lot like “Save Yourselves!”

I’d say it’s quiet in the house as they play with friends in the yard, but it’s just as loud when there are 8 kids on a tramp 10 feet away.

While they are outside, I do my core stabilization exercises. And have a glass of wine. At the same time. How’s that for stable?

8 o’clock comes, the gang disperses, Modern Family gets watched, kids finally go to bed. And you know what?

So do I.

I think I’ve found the missing link in my training. How do you spell “Recovery”?

 

Family, Kids, Race Report, weekend

April Fools Run

Christine Cogger

We took the opportunity last weekend to zip over to the Sunshine Coast for a change of scenery, some training and the April Fools half marathon.

In the days leading up, my motivation was waning, I was tired and the forecast looked dismal. So dismal that I packed the trainer, anticipating a Saturday morning cranking out indoor miles… albeit in a new setting.

Regardless, I loaded up the ‘burb and the boys got to skip an afternoon of school which, right there, made the trip for them. Picked up Lizzie and Henry, drove onto the ferry and we were off.

Because nothing says quality training weekend like 2 moms and 4 kids!

Nothing to see here.
They hate it here.
View. ‘s ok.

Lo and behold, the place we got on Airbnb was awesome (I’d give you the link but that’s like giving away a good babysitter’s number so, no.) and the weather ended up being sunshiny pretty for the entire weekend.

Saturday we left the littles behind to forage for crabs on the beach and rode our bikes for a while…

 

Not as flat as I expected.
Not as flat as I expected.
Post-ride recovery
Post-ride recovery
Lizzie flushing the legs
Lizzie flushing the legs. Photos courtesy Will.

The next morning, we had the best laid plans for the half. You know, healthy breakfast… good sleep… solid warm up.

Instead, we ate nutella, got some broken sleep and showed up with just enough time to win the bathroom locator race (again).

Helping auntie Lizzie
Helping auntie Lizzie

We took off on tired legs, a bit unsure on how it would all go. My goal was to have fun, say thanks to all the volunteers and try not to have a disaster of an outing. Plus, we were wearing matching shirts aka our license to go at whatever pace we feel like.

1:36 and change. Mission accomplished on all fronts!

That guy though…
She got me… this time.
We hunted minnie down.
Lizzie looking for snacks
Backdrop to the finish line!
While I was desperately trying not to pass out from stomach cramps, I fed the kids lots of refined sugar
Lizzie’s wee little trophy
Can’t wait for next time!

P.S.

They didn’t forage for crabs alone. I’m not *that* irresponsible.

 

Day-to-day life, Family, Kids

My dilemma.

Christine Cogger

I’m the first to admit that I loathe the homework that the kids bring home from school.  I grew up going to a small, rural school and never had homework until grade 7. When we got off the school bus, we spent our time playing outside when the weather was good, doing who-knows-what when it wasn’t.

At this age, I don’t see much value in the homework the boys get assigned (except for reading – we do that every night because, well, it’s a pretty basic skill and we like doing it together). It’s also a bit ridiculous to me that the 1st grader has WAY more work than the 3rd grader, but that’s not really the issue here.

It’s spring now and the weather has turned for the better; the days are longer and it’s as if all the kids on the street have discovered that they have neighbours their own age. On any given afternoon, there’s anywhere from 3 to a dozen or more kids running around, playing on trampolines, zipping through each other’s backyards and just generally being kids… outside.

No, as a matter of fact I cannot name all of these children.
No, as a matter of fact I cannot name all of these children.

 

Herein lies my dilemma.

Should I be *that mom* who does the “responsible adult thing”, and calls them in early so that they can sit down (again) and do homework for 30 minutes, or do I ignore the stack of workbooks and teacher’s notes and let them stay outside and burn off more of the endless energy they seem to possess?

Maybe it’s my own laziness coming though, but lately I’m far more inclined to let them skip it and play outside till it’s almost too dark to see… Maybe we can save the homework for rainy days.

After all, sometimes it’s nice to be the “Fun Mom”.

Nothing to see here... Except maybe those damn abs.
Nothing to see here… Except maybe those damn abs.
After school...
After school…
I caved tonight.
I caved tonight.
This one is just going to add more homework to the pile!
This one is just going to add more homework to the pile!
Kids, QOTD

Answering that existential question

Christine Cogger

We’re in the car, and the kids are telling each other jokes.

Rory asks, “Will, which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

I can’t help but chime in.

“Rory, that’s almost a serious question – really. Which one do you think came first?”

Rory, completely serious, replies, “I know the answer to that one. It’s easy. The chicken.”

I fire back: “But if chickens come from eggs, and eggs come from chickens, how do you explain that?”

“It’s easy. The chicken’s adopted.”

I cannot wait until Rory becomes a philosophy teacher in University.

Race Report, Racing, Travel, Triathlon

Californi-EH

Christine Cogger

If we are social media pals, you may have noticed that I broke all kinds of posting rules a few weeks ago by bombarding my feed with pictures of Liz and I on a training trip to Sunny Southern California.

The purpose of the trip was two-fold: log some big miles, and race in the hot, hot desert sun at Desert International Tri.

I was going to write up some kind of recap of the week but Liz did a WAY better job than I ever could, and you can read about it here.  I will, however, bombard you with more pictures and my own race report.

Inspiration Point overlooking LA
If there’s a beach, there’s a handstand attempt
This is my artsy attempt.
This was hanging on the door to our room. The irony was not lost on moi.
Meet Joey. Joey grosses me out. Apparently Joey ‘likes to meet new people’. Uh huh.
Incapable of hiding my glee
Cutest. Human. Ever.
This swim started 4000m ago in the pitch dark. I survived.
Socks!
More ‘artsy’
California much?
I’d like to say that this is the aftermath of something. It’s not.

Not unlike Liz, my level of caring about this race was hovering somewhere between “F&^ it” and “Can’t I just stay in bed?”, particularly when we got up in the morning, in the desert, to the sound of pouring rain on the roof.  Do you know what rain in the desert after jamming Instagram with pics of sunshine is? This is what it is:

karma

[kahr-muh] 
noun
1.

Hinduism, Buddhism. action, seen as bringing upon oneself inevitableresults, good or bad, either in this life or in a reincarnation: inHinduism one of the means of reaching Brahman.

Compare bhakti (def 1), jnana.
2.

Theosophy. the cosmic principle according to which each person isrewarded or punished in one incarnation according to that person’sdeeds in the previous incarnation.
3.

fate; destiny.

Synonyms: predestination, predetermination, lot, kismet.

4.

the good or bad emanations felt to be generated by someone or something:

Lets get out of here. This place has bad karma.

So anyway, yeah. It was raining. Hard. Oh well. We hearty Canadians squeezed into wetsuits, high-fived and got it done. Here’s how it went down for me.

Swim: I do believe that while my swim is improving, I still swam like an inebriated eel.  The saving grace is that I got through transition quickly and out on the bike efficiently.

Bike: The bike was totally flat, which usually puts me at a bit of a disadvantage, what with my huge size and all. I much prefer a course that has big hills on which I can pass all those big boys. No matter, I put my head down and pedaled my gradually freezing self to the transition. I didn’t race with a watch or a bike computer, so I didn’t really know where I stood. I just know that no girls passed me, so that was good.

When I got back to transition, lo and behold, there were no other bikes there. Neat! I fumbled to take off my helmet and shoes and off I went with frozen feet and hands.

Run: Also totally flat, also not my fave. I was off in lala-land for most of it, picking people off and focusing on moving my frozen feet. I finally warmed up for the last 3kms, passed Bobby within sight of the finish line (sorry, Bobby!) and managed to win my age group. So yay me!

There was no loitering post-race. We had one mission and one mission only in mind: In n Out burger.
Mission? Accomplished.