Tales of the Great White North: While you've been having a life ...

So it's 5.30 on a Monday afternoon and I'm all rugged up in bed, sitting in my pj's. I'm also just putting it out there that I'm not going to be moving any time soon.

Surprisingly, I'm not sick. To the contrary, actually, I've just arrived home having completed 6 hours of exercise consisting of 5 hours and 10 minutes on the bike, followed by a 50 minute run. What makes me all the more inclined to now treat myself to an afternoon of "laziness" is the fact that it's been raining all day, so the first half of my ride was outdoors in the cold, wind and mud, coupled with a flat tyre, a reluctant, frustrating, but eventually successful tyre change, the remaining half of my ride indoors on the wind trainer and then a solid, but again, wet and cold run along the seawall. Le piece de resistance was finishing up my run stuck at the traffic lights on Denman Street. The events that unfolded resulted in me having to run an extra 10 minutes ... up a hill. EW.

Anyway, I'm standing at the lights and along comes what I can only assume was a Serbian tennis coach (okay, so he had an accent and he was wearing a white zip jacket and matching white, 3/4 pants) who clearly doesn't know about the iPod rule. Crazy Serbian tennis coach man (aka Novak) strikes up a conversation with me as I'm desperately trying to stretch in peace. Here's a tip, Novak. When someone has an iPod in and they're wearing sunglasses on arguably the most overcast day of the year (we're a week into summer), they do not want to speak to you (mind you, I also had bike grease all over my hands and I'm pretty sure I smelled distinctly like I'd just done six consecutive hours of exercise, so I have no idea why he wanted to speak to me either). Also, it's incredibly hard to decipher your accent when I'm almost delirious, having just seen a two-headed man walking along the seawall (the two-headed man turned out to be a normal man with one head and a baby strapped to his back). So Novak presses on despite my awkward attempts to ignore his questioning. "Dat's good streitch-ing", he says (what do you even say to that? "Yeah, I'm awesome at stretching"?). "Thanks", I say. "Vut uch-schent is dat?" (yes, I promise it wasn't Arnold Schwarzenegger)."Australian". "Oh, Auztraliyun... [pause]... do you know Mel Gibsshon?" (seriously? Mel Gibson is the first person he thinks of?). "Yes, but not personally", I respond.

"Vy nut?"

I have no idea Novak. I have absolutely no idea why I do not know Mel Gibson personally.

And that's when I had to keep running ... for ten minutes ... up the hill and far, far away. After I'd just finished six hours of exercise. All I can say is that damn ten minutes better come in handy in two weeks' time. And if it does, I will forever be indebted to Novak, the ~~friendly~~ scary, Serbian tennis instructor.

So I'm not normally one to talk too much about my training. Mainly because I spend enough time doing it I don't really want to talk about it, but also because I don't want to be one of those annoying people who constantly drivels about how much training they're doing, not realising that no one else cares.

Having said this, I was feeling bad because I hadn't blogged in a while and, to be honest, training is pretty much all we've been doing. Also, my encounter with Novak was, clearly, a memory I'd like to cherish, so into the blog it must go.

I guess I should also explain that it was Canada Day yesterday, and today is a public holiday which is why it's Monday and I've spent pretty much the whole day training. I put it off a little this weekend anyway - partly because of the rain, partly because of me being pretty tired and honestly over it and partly because we got hooked on Season 5 of Mad Men and decided it was only right we should watch the entire season over the course of the weekend. Challenge accepted and accomplished!

Happy Canada Day! (Steven bought me these cute little patriotic cupcakes .. sadly, the flag was not edible... notice the tiny little maple leaf sprinkles - very impressive)

We've both been pretty good lately though I must say. Although training this weekend meant we couldn't go away with some of our friends to a lake house in Vernon for the long weekend (so jealous, it looked amazing), we managed to get some solid training in, do a little bit of socialising (with both our Australian-Canadian friends and our Canadian-Canadian friends - yes, we have some now!) and take in what I can only describe as the most bizarre and/or lame parade I have had the misfortune of witnessing.

The Canada Day parade (#canadafail) - my heart actually skipped a beat with delight when I realized it was over. Talk about bizarre and boring. Picture three different "Glee Club" wannabe groups, a bunch of those weirdo medieval club freaks carrying jousting sticks, some cheerleaders, lots of scary looking pandas (um... last time I checked pandas were Chinese...), some Ukranians, some Chinese, a few Koreans, a recycling truck (yes, a RECYCLING truck), a bus (just a normal, good ol', city bus) and Darth Vader and a few storm troopers .... and that was the Canada Day parade. Now please, tell me how any of those things, in any way, represent Canada ...

Storm troopers parading ... so Canadian right now ...

Told you there was a recycling truck ...

One of the numerous freaky pandas

The bus. I couldn't even make this up if I tried!

Exactly what it looks like - an old man, on a mobility device, singing a song ... it wasn't "Oh Canada" either...

To be honest, though, I wasn't really sure what I was expecting. Celine Deon? Nickleback? Justin Beiber? Alanis Morissette? The girl that sings that "Call Me Maybe" song? All of the above on a massive float, singing the Canadian national anthem? The whole, damaging experience was topped off with our wander down to the food trucks to sample some of the tasty local street food (surely, this would cheer me up?), my purchasing of a burrito, and then said burrito proceeding to drip its stinky hot sauce all down my arm and into my jacket. Perfect! Clearly, God was punishing me for eating a burrito when I should've been having salad, or something equally as boring. So I spent the remainder of the afternoon in a terrible mood with my left arm hanging beside me in this stiff 45 degree angle which, as it turned out, was the position in which the least amount of soggy, burritoey sweater and jacket touched my arm. GROSS.

I actually felt pretty sorry for Steven (I do, most of the time - he has to put up with this!), because I then wandered off into a rant about how I don't even like parades and I don't understand why so many people just LOVE parades. I mean, I kind of understand why kids like them. Well, kids and teenage Asian girls. But adults? We even had one lady try and yell at us when we'd finally had enough and decided to hightail it across the street.. "excuuuuuse me. sit down!", she screamed at us ... "we can't seeeeeeeee". Clearly she was one of these weirdo parade-loving adults .... or, more accurately, she just enjoyed staring at ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Obviously I'm not someone who's just going to run across a street in the middle of a float - that's something else I didn't mention - the "floats" were so few and far between we had to wait a good 5 - 8 minutes for the next one to come along. Perhaps she was just angry because she'd stupidly told her children she'd bring them to this ridiculous event and she secretly wanted to be running across the street and off to the safety and normalcy of the food trucks too.

Anyway, my ranting must have taken it out of poor Steven, because when I woke up this morning he was on the couch, having risen at 5 am to watch 'Le Tour', fast asleep with the sleeping bag wrapped across himself, kind of 'one shoulder evening gown, hare krishna' style. Hilarious, and looking so peaceful. We finished up watching the rest of the stage - for inspiration - which I totally used when I 'Mark Cavendished' his butt riding up one of the hills on the way home from our road ride out to Horseshoe Bay later in the day.

So, unfortunately, that's about where things stand right now. Not much going on, just lots of training and less than inspiring weather. Coming up over the next few weeks we've got Steven's next Olympic distance triathlon in Kitsilano (next week), my half Ironman (the week after) in Lake Stevens, Washington, and then a few more weeks of solid training before Steven and Dave take on Ironman Canada in Penticton, BC. Next time, I promise less ranting and raving (okay, I won't promise, but I'll try) and hopefully some more exciting photos and updates on our travel plans for the remainder of the year ...

A couple of pics from our recent hiking adventure to Jug Island ...