Continual Evolvement

This is more of a stream of consciousness entry than a carefully researched topic. This is not like me at all. I’m usually more wont to meticulously write and re-write topics until they are as near perfect as I can be satisfied with. This time things just flooded out and for kicks I left things as they sat.

We are in a continual state of evolvement. I foolishly thought at age 30 that I had reached “maturation” and “ the end of personal evolution” and when I got married I was quite secure in the fact that I was done and that my new marriage with my husband would continue on along parallel pathways. Turns out our paths were never parallel at all and that they only crossed briefly for that time and began diverging. By the time 12 years had passed I barely recognized the person I was, or who he was for that matter. I had different interests, beliefs and passions in my life. He accused me of changing. I called it evolving.

Change is to alter or modify, to transform. Evolve is to grow, progress, move forward. Subtle differences, but differences nonetheless. Yes I had changed but in the process I had also evolved into someone I felt more comfortable living with. A kind of “new and improved” me. Or “me, only better”. Well, you get my point…

My taste in movies has evolved, so has my wine preference and the books I like to read and the activities in which I participate, to name only a few. Watching, drinking, reading and doing the same things all the time would frankly be boring. Even my circle of friends is different. University friends have gone their separate ways, and although I still keep in touch with many of them, we have very little in common these days aside from the memories of school and residence.

I do have my days where I like being in a rut. It’s comforting and I don’t have to think much, and the old stand-bys are always there. But that does get old quickly and eventually I yearn for some kind of change.

We are hard-wired to evolve. If everything stayed the same we would all still be wearing bell-bottomed jeans and tie-dyed t-shirts with the same hairstyle (well ok…some people still are) or worse, one celled organisms swimming around a murky pond. It would be very boring. I think the moment we stop evolving in life is the moment we stop living life.

Someone Likes Me...:)

I was recently bestowed the title of “Versatile Blogger Award” by fellow blogger and very good friend, Kim. I was both honoured and humbled by such a designate.


Being the curious sort I am, I decided to research the origin of this award. After pages and pages of blog links with the same designate I’ve come to the conclusion that if there is an origin, it is lost somewhere in the multitude of cyberspace bloggers. My personal take is that this was invented by another blogger as a cool way of promoting other people’s blogs, many of whom wouldn’t get the exposure if not for this award. I know just from linking to Kim’s awards I have added new “Blogs I Follow” to my favourites. And when it comes down to it, there is nothing in the world more satisifying that a peer-bestowed award.

I started blogging as a method of releasing frustration and stress, and it morphed into a way of sharing thoughts and ideas with friends and strangers alike. There are no common themes to what I write, or why I write it. Thoughts come to me and suddenly an idea for a blog is blooming in my brain. Down it goes. One day I’m talking about clotheslines and the next I’m delving deeply into the personal. I never started writing because I hoped everyone would read and hang on my next word…in fact, I know I have very few readers. The few people who comment are usually the same people, and they have been tipped off (usually by me) that a new posting has gone up. If others are reading, then they certainly aren’t letting me know. I did try the stats link that Kim mentioned and it was interesting in that after the big two (Canada and the United States) my next largest “following” – I use the term loosely, comes from the Netherlands. I’ve also had a few hits from China , Germany and Denmark.( I’m assuming the last three were just accidental hits and when they realized what they got, closed the link immediately ;)

So, to accept the “Versatile Blogger Award” I have to do the following four things:

1. Thank the one who gave me this award.
Thank you Kim. In the short year we have known each other we have discovered a closeness that normally takes years to nurture and cultivate. If people want to know what Kim is like, they just have to read her blog. http://spo-r-tinglife.blogspot.com/  She is like that in real life. She doesn’t hide behind polished words and carefully rearranged paragraphs. She isn’t afraid to talk about anything and this makes many of her postings so real, and sometimes very raw, and more than once a blog entry of mine has been directly related to something she wrote that got me thinking.

2. Share seven things about myself.
These are random and in no particular order:

1. I am a mother, a lover, a friend and a dreamer.
2. I hate sitting idle and therefore carry a crossword book and a notebook with me almost everywhere I go.
3. At 46 I am happier, fitter, more fulfilled and loved than I have been at any other time in my life.
4. I have a secret crush on the Old Spice Man (but not secret anymore).
5. I hesitate over the “publish post” button each time I write about something new. I never know when someone is going to misconstrue what I write and attack me for it (it’s happened before).
6. I like to play like a boy, but smell like a girl.
7. Aside from the necessities in life I could not live without books…My Kingdom for a book!


3. Present this honour onto 15 ( I don’t have time to read that many – here’s seven, though not new in the sense of the word, I try to follow on a fairly regular basis as well as Kim’s which I’ve linked to above) newly discovered bloggers.

http://goseeruneatdrink.blogspot.com/  -->  Pam blogs/blogged about travelling the world. If anyone is at all inclined to travel anywhere, chances are Pam’s been there and has written quirkily about it. She has a huge following and writes with a flair I can only dream of.

http://startinglines.blog.com/  -->  Cathy’s tongue-in-cheek relentless pursuit of excellence in running. She is loyally dedicated to her sport and to the beverages that are consumed after a long run.

http://winnipegcyclechick.blogspot.com/  -->  Andrea is a strong, brave, classy and enduring cyclist. I want to be like her when I grow up.

http://clickspring.blogspot.com/  -->  Ian writes an eclectic mix - the simple and not-so-simple life in rural Manitoba, breeding all sorts of living creatures, fixing things that most people would have long given up on. His perspective on life is unique and I love the ‘randomness’ of his blog. You never know what you are going to get next!

http://kelodie.blogspot.com/  -->  Kelodie is unwavering in her quest to become a better runner and triathlete. She is tough stuff and reading her training and race reports inspires me to no end.

http://dalesblogaboutnothing.blogspot.com/  -->  Dale is a new father and aspiring ultra runner who has just completed his first 50 miler. He juggles family, training and work and still manages to retain a sense of humour.

http://downtownpeggy.wordpress.com/  --> ”Peggy” lives and works in downtown Winnipeg and writes about the latest happening, the places to shop, eat, listen and to be seen.



4. Drop by and let my fifteen new friends know I love them.

Getting back in the saddle

I like to think I’m a pretty strong woman, mentally and physically. I’ve been through some tough times in my life and manage to emerge unscathed and only slightly scarred on the other side. But there have been times when some things absolutely terrify me.

Last year I bought a mountain bike and embraced it with a passion I didn’t know I had in me for a sport. I love the sound of fat tires thumping over needle covered trails. The whoop of satisfaction after conquering a particularly technical section of narrow tree lined single track or rocky terrain. In my first (and thus far my only) mountain bike race, and only the 5^th time I’d ever ridden, I came in second female. So I was beginning to feel fairly confident with my skills.

Then we went to ride in the mountains...

The first day of riding we encountered a downhill trail that sloped quite steeply to one side, had tall trees on the other, and lots of gravel and boulders on the way down. My boyfriend and riding partner headed enthusiastically down the slope with a smile on his face. As he disappeared around a corner I decided that it didn’t look that bad. I began my descent slowly using my brakes as I’d been taught – heavier on the back, lightly feathering the front. Then my front tire slid sideways when I went over a large boulder that had come loose - I panicked. Not thinking I gripped my handlebars bike tightly which also immediately and firmly applied both brakes and the next thing I knew I was lying on the gravel facing up the hill with my bike partly on me, saddle askew and many scrapes all over my left side. I lay there for a while, testing my limbs to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding profusely, and then gingerly rose, checked the bike to make sure everything was working and then proceeded to walk the bike the rest of the way down the hill to my waiting partner who was starting to worry about me.

Because we were quite a ways from the car, there was no option other than ride the bike back. He was able to refit the saddle for me and I tentatively got back on and rode. The rest of the trip though I found myself balking immediately whenever I was faced with a steep decline or anything that appeared to be remotely technical.

Each time I encountered one my physical self told me that I was fully capable as I’d ridden much of this stuff before, but at the last minute the mental held me at a full stop, remembering the terror of flying over the handlebars earlier in the week.

I was angry and frustrated at myself for the rest of the summer. I rode cautiously - and I didn’t crash once. Frankly, it was boring.

Because we had a wonderfully late fall, we were able to ride well into November. I felt like I was starting over again, but I slowly regained my confidence and was beginning to ride aggressively again by October. Crashing, although it hurt, didn’t worry me as much and I’d get up, dust myself off and laugh. Though I spent my fair share of time on the ground, I knew that it was because I had the courage to try. As Samuel Beckett once wrote: “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” I fail spectacularly some days, but I have a blast doing it.

That being said, I would rather crash 100 times on my mountain bike than once on my road bike…Oh wait...I already have ;0)