Who says that I'm a drama queen?

Life is good here in Toronto. However, for some reason, I'm just not feeling inspired to write about it.... because it all just feels, well, so normal and so boring. I wonder if it's true that I'm happier when I'm anticipating the end of the fucking world. Perhaps this is where good mental health leads you.

In the meantime, while I await some creative inspiration, I will tell you that my body is feeling great; I'm back on the treadmill; I've started going to lunchtime yoga classes (fuck me Ashtanga hurts... I think I'll stick to Vinyassa Flow). With any luck, I'll get in some social tennis later this week. Praise be for GODS's sooooooooooo very strong hands and for his abusive manipulations of my hips (OMG though, between you and me the treatments really hurt but I don't want to be a wuss in front of him by letting on that he's hurting me .... if what's his name from the L.A. Rams can take it, then so can I... yes sir, thank you sir, can I have another sir...)

I've once again started recording everything I eat at www.FitDay.com which is going as well as can be expected, though I'm totally not OK (I'm quite bitter actually) with the fact that a cheeseburger and fries has something in the neighbourhood of 1219 calories and 69 grams of fat (depending on size etc.). This is what I had to record for my Sunday dinner. Will I ever be able to go to a restaurant and order something healthy... probably not in this life. C'est la vie...

The good news on this front, is that I've lost the stupid pounds that I gained through sheer negligence and blatant piggery during my vacation.

Now if my body continues to co-operate and I don't have to record too many cheesburgers, I should be reporting consistent weight gain in the coming weeks. Oh yeah, I'm very competent at losing weight when the proper mood strikes.

I wonder if this time round I can keep it all together and get some traction without imagining crisis all around me where none exists; without sabotaging my hard earned success?

In the meantime, BE WELL!

P.S. I spent Saturday morning pressing re-dial trying to procure tickets to see Great Big Sea live. I finally got through and got tickets but a bit far from the stage for my liking.

And, if Valerie Harper (remember Rhoda?) ever comes to a city near you with her one woman show called Golda’s Balcony…. GO!

Back again, only different than before....

If you want a taste of something really delicious, I recommend that you read TriSaraTops' post about pacing the Clevland Marathon and then IronBenny's tribute to his wife Nytro and the Hoyt's.

These two posts serve to remind me that any happiness that I can muster, is, in some measure, rooted in GRATITUDE and PERSPECTIVE. Both of which are concepts that I need to be reminded of often.

After reading TriSaraTops' post, I got to thinking about the train wreck that was my life several years ago in contrast to my current life situation vis-a-vis the fact that my body isn't exactly co-operating with my marathon dreams. Well, SO WHAT? I'm lucky that I'm even alive.

Having the right perspective allows me to remember, not what I can't do, but rather, what I can.

I can still walk and jog on the treadmill, it looks like I will be able to play at least some tennis this summer, I've found a great new chiropractor/accupressurist (aka GOD), and I can do yoga and core strengthening exercises (even if I find the latter boring beyond measure). It is all good.

Moreover, by simply staying focused on this reality, I can live a totally active life this summer which will, in my experience, lead to dramatic weight loss without a lot of hand wringing and gnashing of teeth (or being an asshole to the video/cable store clerk).

Who knows, maybe in 2009 when I'm running the Boston Marathon (as I have jokingly committed to do with Rae)I will be writing about how far I've come since the the spring/summer of 2006.

Speaking of perspective, I need only to remind myself that I have succeeded in quitting smoking. Surely, this bodes well for my marathon dreams.

What I can't quite get my head around though is how one hangs on to all of this good stuff when one is constantly challenged to be more, to do better....? And a question for therapy... how does all of this square with issues of perfectionism, ageing, the development of self-esteem?????

[Aside: On this note, if you have a moment, check out www.luckygreendress.com. From the home page, click on Y'All Merchandise icon to the left, then buy CD, then listen to the song Nothing More. The song is from the movie, Life In A Box which I saw on Sunday at the Toronto Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. I would expect though that the song will resonate with all men, gay or straight.]

The good news is that I'm getting there.

That said, can you imagine what the world would be like if more men could find the courage to express love with the kind of passion that Benny does..... I can.

Today's video is a great Canadian band from Newfoundland, Great Big Sea who I listened to a lot during my vacation.

What Goes Up, Must Come Down....

I'm back to work. To quote the now famous Nytro, "work sucks big donkey balls".

And, I'm a great big fucking asshole. Let me explain.

Yesterday was one of THOSE days that came at the end of one of THOSE weeks. People lied to me, people were just plain mean to me, and, to rub salt in an already gaping, festering wound, I spent a good part of the day fighting with government bureaucrats who couldn't care less that my taxes pay their fucking salary. I don't care that they are, incompetent... it just galls me that they just don't care a whit about the public who rely on their services.

By day's end, I was POSTAL! Fit to be tied.

O.k. now, ready everyone in blogland, everyone in unison.....

aaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeee

Poor Scotty....

"Nobody loves him, everybody hates him, sitting in the garden eating worms".

So much for my the happy-go-lucky Scott in vacation mode.

One would think that having endured such a hateful day that perhaps, on the way home, I'd remember all the blessings of my life and my wonderful vacation, my loving family, and everything that I have generally to be thankful for.

Well, you'd be just plain wrong.

What did I do you ask? I acted like a complete jerk off in the cable/video store because I had to wait in line to replace the modem for my computer. Yeah... ME... God forbid that Scott had to wait in line. OH, the travesty.... the inhumanity...

Now the clerk is doing the best he can and not getting paid a lot of money for doing it and along comes King Fucking Scott with a bug up his considerable ass giving the clerk a hard time for making me wait so long.

Ooooohhhhhhh let me tell you, if I were in charge of the World things would be so much better.

Yah right, Scott, ya blowhard.

Then to make it worse, I got on the phone with the cable monopoly to whom I pay about $200 and beat up a call-centre clerk. Spent 1/2 hour on hold... hello.... waste of time.....

And the kicker is... I knew what I was doing. Today, I am ashamed. It is one thing to be an asshole without knowing that you're being one. And trust me, at this stage of my life, I knew I was being an asshole.

You see, many years ago, I had a job that required me to do a lot of travelling around the world (have I told this story??) and back, before I knew that I was being an asshole, there wasn't an airline in the world that I couldn't convince to bump me to first class as compensation for some imagined slight or grievance. I was a piece of work, trust me. I just thought that I deserved to be seated there... not that I ever paid for a first class ticket mind you... What an entitlement Queen I was...

Turns out, I was just deluded. Pity me that I lumbered under the impression that I got bumped because I was oh, so very fucking important. SO NOT. They bumped me because it was easier than putting up with my boorish bullshit.

But the best I could do yesterday... the big kids picked on me, so I picked on the smaller kids.

Memo to self: go to cable store and apologize to clerk.

Yeah work can sure suck sometimes but at least they pay me well (unlike the clerk in the cable/video store) and give out engraved I-Pods for Christmas. Could be worse Scott.

Take a pill.

Forget Your Troubles... C'mon Get Happy....

Contributing to my oh so cheery mood is the fact that I tried to start running again this week only to find that my injury (which actually turns out to be a whole host of problems, not the least of which is my weight.... whose got the lipo hose?) is still not healed.

Chiro GOD (who is still too hot for words) remains unconcerned. Again on Thursday, he promised that he could make me into a runner. But it is up to me. First, I have to lose weight. It would also seem that my fancy smancy Herman Miller $1,000+ chair that my considerable ass sits in at the office is so comfortable that it's bad for my back. I know it sounds weird but as he explained it, when you sit in such a chair, your core is completely disengaged and starts to atrophy and cramp.

Accordingly, GOD gave me a note asking permission for me to ditch it and sit on an exercise ball. I don't expect that this will go over well. In my favour, one of our partners already sits on one.

Anyway, on the food front, I'm happy to report that I have succeeded in getting back on track with my FitDay food recording and lost several pounds this week, though today has been no hell. Perhaps Saturday will be my treat day? Who's kidding who... I'm having pizza for supper.

In other news, I 'm feeling very sad for my Mother today, who lost a very close friend of hers to cancer on Thursday. I attended Peter's funeral this morning and almost lost it when one of his friends thanked my Mom for caring for him during the last year and a half of his life. Now, my Mom knew what she was getting into when she met him, and all of us kids worried when we saw her getting attached to this man who was terminally ill. We knew it was going to end like this but my Mom risked love anyway. I wish I could do that.

Forget your troubles, C'mon... get happy...

Defying Gravity....

Truly, I tell you, this vacation has been one the best vacations EVER! For this, I AM grateful beyond words.

I feel refreshed, rejuvenated, reborn. I feel completely ready to return to work and to pick up the challenges of my professional life anew, to attack my food/weight issues; to run, and to play tennis.

I feel like I AM a totally different man; more ready than ever to discard the baggage that I no longer need on this voyage, once and for all.

I AM ready.

I AM going to defy gravity.

But in order to do so, I need to continue to dig deep; to have the courage to share of myself and to be brutally honest - even when it's difficult to do so. Though it is sometimes difficult beyond words, I believe with all of my heart, in the power that comes from the examined life. I need to be clear though, that to the extent I achieve this, I AM not writing it down in this space to be provocative or dramatic. Rather, I AM writing it down in an effort to make it more difficult for me to deceive myself. I've been told that it is impossible to lie to yourself in writing (try it sometime). That said, I always hope that I might inspire someone else's journey as I AM so often inpsired by yours.

In any event, now that I have been touched (am being touched...) by the hand of GOD (Thanks to Donald for this cute turn of phrase), I expect to be in a position to write more about training issues and my attempts to lose weight. To Nytro and Spence.... I feel your pain.

In closing, I thank all of you elite athletes out there who take the time to read this post and I hope that you will continue to do so, and to share my journey as I share yours.

SO IF YOU CARE TO FIND ME
LOOK TO THE WESTERN SKY
AS SOMEONE TOLD ME LATELY:
"EV'RYONE DESERVES THE CHANCE TO FLY"

from Wicked

Perhaps Angel's death wasn't in vain?

Hey all.

The end of my vacation is nigh.

Sigh!

1. I saw RENT (again...) last night. The video on the sidebar is the show stopping end of Act I. It would appear to be the exact production that is currently playing in Toronto, and although I can't really tell from the video, I think that some of the actors are the same.

I cried.... again.

But somehow, this time... it was different? When I saw the live show the first time (almost ten years ago) it was with a more traditional theatre going crowd. Last night however, the audience was filled with screaming teenage Rent Heads (who knew?); who are kids that have adopted the show, and if My Space and/or You Tube are any indication, they will keep it alive and well forever.

LA VIE BOHEME!

The energy of the audience just made my heart swell. Best of all, I was sitting beside the mother of a 16 year old who, though she knew every word of every song, was seeing the show for the very first time. The mother told me that her daughter was an aspiring actress who wanted to play the part of Maureen someday. Of course, they were both in tears from the first note of Act II. Such are the moments of life to be treasured.

In the show, Rogers sings that, "Angel's death WAS in vain." Perhaps not.


Yet again, it is a reminder that for having survived, it is for me to LIVE!

2. This morning, I was back on the court with Scott (the pro), and like WOW... didn't I just hit out of my freaking head. I was in some kind of a zone, hitting balls for winners that Scott couldn't even get back.

Although I am feeling physically better than I have in months, the best part of all of this is emotional/mental. As the result of my recurring injuries, I was succeeding in convincing myself that I was finished. Old. Tired. Dead. It would seem that this is not true. See #3.

3. After my hit, I had my third appointment with GOD. I have no idea why this guy has any interest in seeing me... given that his conversation with his assistant today concerned the booking of his flights to L.A. this weekend to treat one of the L.A. Rams. He told me the said player's name (I don't follow football but apparently he is totally famous) but perhaps it's best that I don't publish it here.

Anyway, please GOD (the real one) let this be for real.

Better yet... I have been given the green light to run. However, to start back, I am only allowed to run for one minute intervals until I report back next week.


4. Seriously, this vaction has been a PR! Yesterday, I had another yoga/massage. [memo: check out K.D. Lang singing a song entitled Halleluja]


5. Tonight, the theatre again: Andrew Lloyd Webber's Song and Dance. I saw the show years ago, in London, England, and I'm very excited to be seeing it again.
http://www.reallyuseful.com/rug/shows/song/music/music%20clip/TellMeOnASunday.mp3

6. This weekend, I'm off to the Sandbanks to see my family, although my Mom isn't going to be around for Mother's Day as she has to go out of town for a funeral (sucks for her!).

Anyway, lest you think my life to be perfect, there is torrential rain in the forecast for 3 days straight.

Happy Mother's Day!

Vacation - Week 2 - Acceptance

6 MONTHS*



*as of May 7, 2006
*************************************************************************************

This is turning out to be the bestest vacation ever..........

1. By all accounts, the dinner party on Saturday night went really well. It certainly seemed like everyone had a good time (though out of sheer boredom, my 7 year old niece washed the dishes as an activity). Sadly, I will not be the recipient of any Uncle of the year awards.

The menu looked something like this:

*ceasar salad;
*sorel and chive soup;
*prime rib, baked potatoes and baked asparagus with asiago cheese and chives for the carnivores;
*spaghetti with tomato sauce for the vegetarian and child; and

*maple mousse with carmelized pine nuts for dessert.

I drank way too much red wine.

The next morning, I tried to make it to church however, I had to abhort due to the closure of one of our major streets (with no viable alternative route) for the Sporting Life 10k. This made me feel like a piece of shit, given that I had planned to run this race before my injuries re-surfaced in January.

2. On Saturday morning, while out shopping for flowers, I ran into a friend ("A") with whom I had lost touch and made plans to have dinner with him on Sunday to play catch up. Confession: Shallow though it may be (I admit it here), I wanted to show off all the interior decorating that I have had done in my apartment since "A" was last here (gay men can sometimes be quite tiresome in this regard). So for me, it was dinner party x2 nights. I'm not sure how I feel about reconnecting with "A", though this is a topic that will have to be explored another time.

Again, I drank way too much red wine. To make matters worse, we proceeded to a martini bar where we drank some more.

Memo to self: Enough.

3. Not good. I showed up yesterday morning to hit with Scott suffering with a blinding red wine hangover. Despite it though, I was striking the ball as if I hadn't been away from the sport for several years. Despite the lack of conditioning and my right quad thing, I'm hitting better than I expected however, that said, I just simply cannot get to some balls that I would have gotten ten years ago.

I am not happy about this at all. Hence the title of this post and an emerging theme of this vacation.

4. I had my second appointment with God this morning. No sight of assistant or Hunky Student. Just God; working on about 6 of us at the same time. He says there is nothing wrong with me that can't be fixed though I have to lose weight and do the core stengthening exercises. It is just unbelievable the range of motion that I have post treatment.

Memo to Self: Just do it already.

5. I have spent the last two days starkers on the so called 'clothing optional beach'. Now, if you knew me, you would be thinking - yeah right, like Scott's going to take his clothes off in public... So not.

But I did, damnit.

I have made a decision.

From this day forward in my life, I have decided that I am not going to be ashamed of the body that God gave me (the real God, not chiro God).

If you'll forgive the turn of phrase - this is fucking huge!


ACCEPTANCE.


Now, you might think that some great leap has been taken here that has not been explained. You're probably right. It is just that it is too big for words. You see, I am a big big believer in the concept that LIFE IS EXACTLY AS IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE RIGHT NOW. So, this means that everything that I am dealing with is for a reason and from which I will learn and grow.

I could be so wrong, but by way of conclusion, I believe that I am going through some kind of trial by fire at the moment (stressful work situation; quitting smoking; injuries; weight issues; etc. etc.) and that I have to find ACCEPTANCE on a number of levels before I can move on.

In my past, I have been guilty of the "when I am this, that, or the other... I will be happy" syndrome. To wit, throughout my twenties, I held on to my childhood shit about being fat which was, at that time, anything but the truth. Now at the age of 43, I look back and realize the extent to which the best of those years were wasted by my wishing and hoping for that beautiful sculpted and ripped body that was never mine to achieve in the first place. I know now that searching for perfection is a one-way ticket to misery.

So fast forward - I have decided that I want to live (memo: rent the Susan Hayward movie, "I Want To Live") while I am pursuing a healthier weight and level of fitness. I do not want to look back on my fourties when I am sixty, only to realize that I made the same mistake as when I was in my twenties.

I have decided. So there!

I have seen the face of God!

He is my new chiropractor who, henceforth, will be referred to as God! And, might I add, not only for his chiropractic skills... if you get my drift. More on this later.

Where to start? So much to tell, at 5:05 a.m. EST, and it's only just the start of day 4 of my vacation....

1. Tennis:

I hit with Scott, the head pro at the club that I am considering joining (it's a bit weird that we have the same name) on Tuesday and Thursday morning. All things considered, it went much better than expected, and though I was a step (or two... ok three damnit...) slow and definately favouring my right quad, I hit some damn fine balls. Who knows, maybe this tired, battered, old body has some game left in it after all? And, though I am stiff as a board this morning, I'm not feeling 'injured' (thanks be to God).

As it turns out, I did recognize Scott from past tennis adventures who, besides being a tennis pro, is also a marathon runner. Coincidence? Not a chance. Moreover, it is Scott who referred me to God.

2. ART and God:

In the context of explaining my tennis goals to Scott, it was necessary for me to tell him the very sad tale of my injury prone, wannabe marathon runner's life. Bless him, he didn't laugh once and seemed to take me quite seriously. I asked him if he knew anyone who might be able to shed some fresh light on my physical ailments as I wasn't feeling particularly confident that my present physiotherapist really had a grasp on it. (I admit here to my own negligence in not doing my core strengthening exercises) . In reply, after telling me that his favourite physio guy had just left the city, he recalled how God had previously performed a diagnostic miracle on his wife (a personal trainer at the club) and promised to get me a phone number after our hit.

As soon as I got home, I called to make an appointment with God for 12:00 noon on Thursday (yesterday). I was however, told by an assistant that if I didn't show up until 12:15 p.m. that would be fine as God runs perpetually late. Given that I have a thing about being late for anything, against the advice I was give, I showed up on time. I sat there until 12:30 p.m.

At 12:30 I was greeting by two guys whose names I totally missed because I was stupefied by their physical beauty. What I did get, was that neither of them were actually God. I know it is wrong to drool over medical professionals... but what can I say. The one guy introduced himself as God's assistant and referred to the other as a student and he asked if I had any issues with that. I wanted to say that I would feel better if the student took all of his clothes off ... "No, of course not I replied."

So, feeling totally old, ugly and too physically inadequate to live in their presence, I gave my history to the assistant with the hunky student observing. I'm then asked to change into my shorts to prepare for God's arrival on the scene. Shorts? What shorts? It never occured to me that I would need shorts to see a chiropractor.... I thought that I was doing well, having remembered to wear decent underwear (probably TMI, but I prefer commando whenever possible). In response, the hunky student volunteers to get me a pair of paper shorts... that's right folks... paper shorts. I wanted to die.

[Memo to self - pitch this story as the plot line for a cheesy porn flick....]

By this point, it is approaching 1:00 p.m. and I've changed into the said paper shorts, dreading the return of the assistant and the hunky student. I hadn't yet laid my eyes on God.

Then, HE entered.

I was speechless. Utterly.

"Hi, I'm Mike he says."

OK, just not fair. I swear, he renders Brad Pitt into the category of merely ordinary. And, he totally strikes me as being that ever so rare type of heterosexual (nothing uber nor metro about them) man that are so comfortable with their sexuality that it would simply never occur to them to be threatened by a gay man.

But lest you think me shallow, it is not for this reason that I refer to Mike as God.

To make a longish story shorter, he read my history and then proceeded to dig his thumb into my groin (he laughed as I tried to stifle my scream in response to the pain) while the hunky student was instructed to bend and stretch my right leg. I hear him telling the hunky student that as the result of his experience, he can make an educated guess at a diagnosis just from the history of the patient.

Apparently, he can. After he stopped pressing his thumb into my groin, he lifted my right leg and demonstrated that once again, I had almost full mobility with next to no pain. This is why I refer to him as God.

By this point it is well after 1:00 p.m. I note that our treatment is interrupted several times to allow him to answer this Blackberry in an attempt to set up a treatment with one of the Toronto Blue Jays who he refers to as... are you ready for this ... Dude ...

Finally, God tells me that I need to book two follow-up appointments for each of the next two weeks. When I tell the assistant this for booking purposes, she laughed. Laughed. Then with a very straight face she told me that I could only have one; in a tone of voice suggesting that only if I were one of the Blue Jays, might I get two appointments. Finally, she allowed that she could fit me in on Tuesday between the two others that she had already squeezed in between two others...... My appointment is officially 11:50 a.m. I have been instructed to bring a book.

3. Yoga Massage:

Fuck me, Toronto has over 4 million people. The gay rag lists as many as 20 registered massage therapists. Could I find even one who would even answer the telephone much less have any short notice availability. Please. Now you've got to know that due to my very stressed out work life, I am walking around with my shoulders scrunched up to me ears....

So, I called on this highly recommended guy who has advertised for years and, though not an RMT, claims some form of certification (this is the advertising category between RMT and erotic butt work ... don't ask....). At first, I could only get his voice mail but at least he called me back. He said he only had one appointment available for the entire week which I booked. He practices something that he calls yoga massage.

Now, I have had deep tissue massage before and I have been stretched out by the best... but I have never been stretched out during, and as part of, a deep deep deep tissue massage. This guy was practically on top of me, pulling and pushing and kneading.

Very quietly and calmly, he encouraged me to breathe deep and to let out sound on the exhale .... he asked me to trust in his hands and really feel 'the work'... allow the stress to be released from your body, he whispered ... well, I don't mind telling you that I was moaning and very nearly in tears by the end of it but OMG, it felt good. I booked the one and only appointment he had left for next week.

So, life is good. I attended the ballet on Wednesday night (Romeo and Juliet) and today is a dear friend's birthday. As soon as I finish with this post (which has taken far too long to write) I will need to start fretting about my dinner party tomorrow night. Apparently, post Easter one cannot buy a spiral cut ham-on-the-bone in the city of Toronto. What, am I supposed to go out and kill a pig myself?

Anyway, I have to end the post here. More next week.

Have a great weekend everyone!

FREEDOM

HOLIDAYS!
(God knows I need it. I am stressed out, burnt out, flamed out, and just generally freaking cranky.....)

2 WHOLE WEEKS!
(I haven't had more than 1 week at a stretch for close to 5 years....)


SUMMER HAS ARRIVED IN TORONTO !
(But not yet, the smog....)


LIFE IS GOOD!
(Or at least I'm going to pretend for the next two weeks....)












So whatever will I do?

Play tennis (quads willing);
Read last 6 issues of Vanity Fair sitting on my coffee table;
Drink some really nice red wine;
Dinner party for 8 next Saturday;
Symposium at my Church next weekend;
Touring production of Rent next week;
Canadian Premiere of ALW's Song and Dance;
Guest lecture on Jung and such;
Go to the beach;
Walk;
Meditate;
Loll about on a sidewalk cafe pretending I'm in Paris;
Go to the Sandbanks (the lake) to visit my Sister and Brother-In-Law;

**CELEBRATE 6 MONTHS AS A NON-SMOKER**

What I will try not to do?

Eat too much;
Drink too much really nice red wine;
Complain;
Read my e-mail;
Go into the office;
Obsess about files blowing up;























These are some stock photos of Toronto. The one older, historical looking building (after Life is Good) is Osgoode Hall, home of our Court of Appeal. This building is kitty corner from my office which is featured in the picture of the statue (you can just the see the corner of my building in the right hand side of the picture). Toronto's new Opera Hall is directly across the street from where I work in the other direction but I couldn't find a picture. The rest, are a couple of Toronto's many landmarks and the Toronto Islands where we go to the beach. The night view is from atop the CN Tower looking out over Lake Ontario... the Island is just to the left of the photo.