The End of Fieldwork

So here I am at the end of another field season. As always I feel an interesting mixture of emotions. I'm relieved that the incessant travel will now come to a close and I can enjoy being at home with Jeff, Bailey, my fridge, my treadmill, my PVR, my hot tub, and all the things that make my life mine, versus the slightly unsettling feeling of being displaced all the time.

But I also feel sad because the onset of beautiful October* means that an incredible few months of summer has come to an end and the inevitable cold, dark, snowy winter is around the corner. I've been reflecting on fieldwork a lot. In spring it is the thing I am most excited about, likely because it is intermingled with the end of dark, cold, and snowy and the beginning of light, warmth, and life. So I'm never sure if I am excited to do fieldwork or am I just excited for winter to be over? 

So, 2016. It was one of the most difficult field seasons I've encountered. It wasn't the field season in which I was away from home the most, or doing particularly challenging fieldwork, it was just that my work was focused entirely on invasive species removal. My stewardship staff person is pregnant and therefore unable to use herbicides. Send in the childfree woman! ;) Honestly, I didn't really mind stepping in to do this work – I'm pretty damn good at spraying herbicides, identifying invasive species issues, and treating them successfully. And there's a saying in my world that a bad day in the field is still better than a day in the office. But something in me felt a bit broken this year. Perhaps it's the fact that I actually was broken – I developed an issue with the soft tissue and muscle in my right foot after too much walking for too long and rubber boots (to protect me from herbicides of course), followed by a nasty meniscus injury in my left wrist, followed closely by one of the worst cases of tennis elbow my physiotherapist has ever seen from me cutting the seed heads of the invasive plant, Phragmites. On one of my last days of fieldwork in 2016 I could be found hammering stakes into the ground to secure newly planted trees to on a beautiful fall morning, and I was full of rage. I was seriously fuming at how much pain I was in and how incapacitated I felt (and a little bit at the volunteers who left about 50% of the stakes dangling out of the ground...). I started to think that the office might be where it's at. 

This isn't to say I won't relish the opportunity to go visit the incredible places that I get to save through land acquisition from time to time, but I think my time is done. I think I am truly broken down and done with fieldwork. I have put in a solid seven years of fieldwork at my job at NCC as well as two field seasons during my masters and an additional field season prior to that at a summer job during my undergrad. Let me tell you some lessons I learned along the way about the field. 

It is not the glamorous stroll in the park that many people might picture. There is rarely strolling involved. There is often not a trail involved. I am frequently throwing myself against tree branches which are desperately trying to keep me out of the direction in which I intend to go, resulting in many scratches, bruises, cuts, poked eyes, missing equipment, and general frustration. On the days when I'm not in the forest you can sometimes find me in the wetlands – in those cases I am often being swarmed by black flies or mosquitoes and if I'm not under the shade of trees (as often is the case in wetlands) I am being burned to a crisp by the sun. When I am outdoors in the field I wear long pants, long sleeves, a hat that shields my face, head and neck, sunglasses, sunscreen, bug spray, hiking boots, socks pulled up halfway along my shins with my pants tucked into them, and there is not a single comfortable or glamorous thing about any of that.

There are threats in the fields that keep us on our toes at all times – this can be anything from tiny black legged ticks which transmit Lyme disease to pencil eraser sized wood ticks which you simply just don't want to have lodged behind your ear (speaking from experience- that night was a screamer); black bears which are interested in eating not typically you but often the food in your bag though is sometimes hard to tell the difference when they're following you through the field; there are thickets of hawthorns and black locust with 2" razor sharp needles that poke you every chance they get and carry harmful bacteria which can cause skin infections (speaking from experience),and when you're walking on the rock barrens of eastern Georgian Bay coast thinking that it is the most beautiful place you've ever seen, you have to watch every footfall to ensure that you do not step on a Massasauga Rattlesnake, Ontario's only venomous snake. 

On some days the work I'm doing is beautiful, easy, and feels like a dream come true. The days when I have my feet up on the edge of the boat as it sails across beautiful blue water – those days are days I cannot believe I'm getting paid for what I do. Other days, like when I'm carrying a 10 L jug of herbicide in each hand along with an additional 10 L on my back and my backpack on my front, and I have started work at 7 AM because the temperature is set to climb to 38°C that day, I do not feel that I have it better than someone in an office. 

Well of course we have a bit of fun with it... when the plant is 12' tall you have to show it who's boss!

Killin' some shrubs, rockin' some gloves

When I started NCC I was so jealous of the field workers, so excited when I got to become one myself, and I thought fieldwork was the ultimate answer and the ultimate reward. But.. it's true... something has broken. I can't tell how much is physical, how much is psychological, or how much is simply me looking for a change after over a decade of throwing myself into some of the most interesting, wild, crazy, harsh, beautiful, treacherous, etc. landscapes in Ontario. I do think humans thrive on change and I imagine after a decade in office or maybe even just one year in office I will be back to writing about the good old days of fieldwork and how I had it so sweet to be out under that sun (that burns me to a crisp), among the wildlife (that are trying to infect, eat or kill me], and deep in the heart of Ontario's incredible nature (that is absolutely full of challenges). But I suppose only time will tell. From where I'm standing right now the end of field season feels as amazing as it always does – the sweetest homecoming that ever existed. A chance to start reading again. A chance to start exercising regularly again (tennis elbow = finally remastering the 5k run!). A chance to spend time in my kitchen experimenting with new recipes and cooking healthfully for myself instead of hitting the McDonald's drive-through like an exhausted fieldwork zombie at the end of so many long days. And, oh, my back will be so happy to get away from those long car rides for just a little while.

What's interesting though, that I haven't mentioned yet, is that this is actually the end of fieldwork for me. It's not just the usual end of the season - though my brain is having a hard time differentiating. What I do feel is a mounting excitement. The idea that my time and my schedule can become my own again, and I won't be at the mercy of plants' growing cycles, birds' migration schedules, invasive species best management practice treatment times, and the eventual end of life again in the fall, fills me with an absolute thrill. I feel like it's a chance to take back the reins of my life that nature has been holding for a decade. Even as I'm saying it I can't believe I'm celebrating the end of fieldwork. But this season it was brutal, and it hurt me physically, and I worked through some of the worst physical conditions that I have faced in my career. I grew disheartened by the invasive species and how small I feel next to a patch of Phragmites. This doesn't mean to say that I am any way devaluing the importance of controlling non-native invasive species. This is one of the most important things we as Ontarians can be doing to protect our biodiversity and ensure our natural areas stay in great condition moving forward. It's imperative that we stay on top of these battles in the land trust world to ensure that the land we protect stays worth protecting forever and ever and we don't lose the important things that are there because of these aggressive invaders. 

But what it means is it's time for me to stop. For me to take a step back. For a space to open up to be filled by the next Kristyn, the next conservation biologist. This will give me a chance to flex some different muscles that have been underused as I've tried to perform the duties of both the Conservation Biologist and Program Director of my job. Now I get to focus on securing land, the first pillar of what we do (the second pillar of course being stewardship). This job is either just as important or more important than stewardship and it's something I have the opportunity to dive into deeply now at this point in my career, and I need to embrace that. I haven't had a chance to embrace it fully with stewardship taking up at least 50 to 60% of my time (+ way more than that during the summer months), so here I am. The Program Director ready to start acting like a Program Director. An old woman at 33, ready to come indoors. Later things may change. I may change, and what I want may change, but I thought it was important to capture my thoughts at this period in time when the contrast between being out there, being away, being deep in nature as my job -- and being comfortable at home with my people, my things, my office, my desk, feels just so wonderfully right and comfortable and secure and where I am supposed to be. There won't be anymore going home at 7:30 p.m. because I found a new population of invasive species that needs to be treated and I only have three days out there so what else am I gonna do. Now I will always have the chance to put down the mouse, to walk away from my keyboard, and always go home at 5 PM or whenever the hell I want to go home actually, and return to whatever office-based issue I was tackling the morning of the next day. That is pretty amazing. That kind of flexibility truly does fill me with excitement. And to think about the things I'll be able to do now that I'm not being pulled in a million directions could be a turning point in my career.

I will end this rambling (and it is technically rambling as I'm using a dictation program due to my tennis elbow). I'll just say I'm glad I had a chance to reach down deep inside my soul and find out that there is a part of me telling me I am done. The excitement that comes with fieldwork largely has to do with the excitement of spring and summer.  This old grandma is ready to come indoors and focus on acquiring land for conservation, which is just another variation of living the dream. And if anyone thinks they're going to keep me out of the boat on Georgian Bay at least once a year they have another think coming. No one is keeping me off the boat - just try me!!!

Beautiful G-Bay

* post written in October

Summer hijinx

It's been an unfortunately long time since I've written/shared a blog post! Bad me! No excuses, and I knew I wanted to get back to writing and sharing this weekend. So I was thinking today, while out walking Bailey on a blustery fall day, what I should write about. And of course, it got me thinking that it's always important to return to your roots. The point of this blog being the ridiculous hijinks I experience on a regular basis, that is the obvious place that we're heading today. Please excuse any spelling, capitalization or grammar errors, this post was dictated. Tennis elbow is a bitch.

Okay, so let me set the stage. I haven't done fieldwork an entire year due to my secondment to southwestern Ontario in 2015 and it's now June 2016 and I've been tasked with approximately half of the stewardship for the summer, particularly dealing with invasive species removal as my stewardship lead is pregnant and unable to work with herbicides. I'm not thrilled about spending my summer with toxic chemicals, but as always excited for the chance to make my little corners of nature that I manage a happier place for native species. But I am rusty. And I forgot how easy it is for even the best laid plans to go awry when you're in the field. 

Our first day involves a very simple visit to a 2 acre property in Georgian Bay. The inspection of the site takes approximately one hour and then I plan to visit with the landowners for about one hour, as they have invited us over for lunch, and then we'll be on our way to our second field site of the day where we will treat a small population of Garlic Mustard and a small population of Giant Hogweed. This schedule means we'll get to go home early, probably, on Thursday night – awesome! Instead, we end up at the donors house for hours and hours as they are clearly enjoying our company and lunch is taking a while to serve. We are having a great time, but before I know it it is almost 3 o'clock and we are still in Parry Sound, nowhere near the second field site. After extricating ourselves and making it over to the property, I navigate us in the wrong direction a number of times before getting us to where we need to be. Then my intern Katie and I split up and she goes to treat the hogweed while I go to town on the garlic. Unfortunately the garlic mustard is completely out of control and I end up spending three hours in a hunched over position ripping out as many plants as I can until Katie rejoins me, we assess the situation, and realize this is way too much work for one day and we are both dead tired, starving, and need to return to our cottage! Our next move was to miss our exit off the 400 to get back to our cottage and overshooting south for many kilometers. After exhaustedly grocery shopping, settling into the cottage and prepping for the next day, it was a seriously long Monday. Not the best note to start things off on, but we are determined that Tuesday is going to be a better and more organized day, controlling a few tiny populations of dog strangling vine spread out across the Carden Alvar. Does that sound ominous? It should.

The next day in Carden we visit the first small population of dog strangling vine and kill it with success in less than an hour.The second population goes fairly well, but we run out of herbicide and have to work some magic to stretch out a few drops over at least 100 plants, a feat that we have become pretty good at, always being so far away from the car and a refill! We are walking to the third small population when we come across a lone dog strangling vine plant in the middle of a forest. This is never a good sign, because every dog strangling vine plant comes from another dog strangling vine plant. And then we happened upon a very significant patch growing in a very important part of the property, unbeknownst to us until that point in time. But seasoned field biologists - we just start spraying and I tell Katie to see if there is any more around. A silence ensues and then I hear Katie's small voice float across the alvar, and knowing how unflappable she is, when I heard "Kristyn? This is really bad…" I knew we were in a special kind of trouble. There it was, a massive monoculture of dog strangling vine essentially strangling a part of a forest. So, again, we just started spraying.We took turns walking back to the van which was approximately a 10 to 15 minute walk away through thick forest or juniper shrubs [it is much easier to walk through Cedar Forest then Juniper shrubland] and just as we were a few litres away from finishing our work for the day I volunteered to run back to the van to get the last of the spray. I took a wrong turn along the way because I was rushing and ended up in the dreaded junipers. If you're not familiar with this plant, it is extremely pokey. My field pants have been well used over the past four seasons, and the thin material started to rip as it strained against my sweaty legs and was picked up by the sharp fingers of the never ending field of junipers. I noticed, when I finally stumbled back out onto the road that runs through the property, that the bottom of my pocket and a large section of my pants have been fully ripped apart. Frustrated, I climbed into the van and moved it out onto the public road that was marginally closer to the giant monoculture. From there I loaded up with one last jug of herbicide, slipped a few important items from my backpack into my pockets, like my beloved peezee- a device that lets me use nature's facilities without ever having to crouch – I'm kind of like a dude out there and I kind of love it – as well as the van keys. I walked straight up an escarpment and started banging through more Cedar forest using our GPS to navigate me back to where Katie was. As I lifted my leg to step over a fallen log I heard the sound of my wonderful peezee slipping out of the bottom of my pocket, which I had completely forgotten was ripped. I saved the peezee and then my heart stopped because I realized I wasn't sure what pocket I had slipped the van keys into. You can guess where this is going. The van keys ... were nowhere to be seen. I called Katie in a panic (luckily my cell phone was in a different pocket) and told her I was delayed because I would have to retrace my steps to try to find the van keys. Well, no van keys were to be found, particularly since I had no idea which way I had walked into the site where I was. I ran around that forest in circles while I desperately called Enterprise, CAA, and Katie, in near tears. The van is a rental and we had rented it from a place  2 1/2 hours away from where we currently were.

Well let me just say that was a very, very large vehicle that CAA sent to help us out. It was an agonizing hour while we watched the guy load our van with chains onto the bed of the truck. 

Serious towing capacity...

In my happiest moment of the day I got a hold of the folks at Guelph Enterprise who told me they did have an extra set of keys for that van and would send them to the Orillia enterprise nearby. Riding home in the back of the tow truck I looked down at my stupid pants and noticed that I was inexplicably covered in herbicide, just as one final insult on a very terrible day. 

Ahh, poison...

Needless to say after my trip to Value Village to purchase new field pants that night, I stress ate a lot of McDonald's followed by several ice cream sandwiches. Lucky for us the next day was a return to Georgian Bay, followed by two more days of spraying dog strangling vine including a half day on Friday (when I had hoped we would be snugly home for the weekend!) to finish off the new monoculture. Well, friends, you'll never guess what Katie spotted as we were walking away from the site that day through the forest. The van keys. The fact that we managed to bushwhack the exact same path was unbelievable, even today. 

Bonus: DSV found wilting at site on Friday. It was all worth it.... (?)

It was one of those weeks where we kept saying "we will laugh about this later". That was June. It is several months later. I am still not REALLY laughing, but more shaking my head in disbelief. I always want to be a more conscientious fieldworker, but it is so hectic out there, but I always seem to revert to some sort of cartoon or sitcom character, no matter how hard I try. Lucky for me Katie is my perfect foil in that she is never flustered, and always calm. But that Friday, heading home, the car was very quiet!

Other notable moments from the field season included the time where Katie, Mike, and I were all spraying different sides of a humongous population of dog strangling vine, and I was getting pretty burned out from spraying, so I started listening to Kings of Leon on my phone in my pocket. But not with earbuds in, with music, playing loudly, drowning out the singing that I was doing as I sprayed. It was making the work super enjoyable and I felt like I was performing a mini rock concert, all on my own. I figured those guys might be able to hear the music but likely not my singing. Well, I guess I was pretty into my work and pretty into my personal rock concert because what I met back up with Katie she couldn't stop laughing and imitating what she called my shower singing, belting out (off key) the words to Kings of Leon songs, while my voice traveled clearly across the Alvar. She said it was likely as entertaining for her as it was for me.

There was the week that everything broke including both the front end, the middle section, and the back end of a garden hose at the cottage we were staying which is crucial to mixing herbicides – you've got to have water that reaches the van! What the hell was wrong with that hose?

There was the lady who lived across the street who came over and accused us of building bombs in the driveway because we were wearing protective equipment on our hands and faces while we mixed herbicides.

Contracting severe tennis elbow at the end of the season is not one that I'm laughing about yet, but cutting phragmites seedheads and stalks in a frenzy for three days straight was certainly a memorable way to spend a 40°C heat wave. I think I am still getting over that one emotionally.

Stay tuned for my next post: The End of Fieldwork? Coming soon...

Iceland - Part II - How To Do It

Second and last part of my lengthy Iceland series :) For those seriously considering a trip to this amazing place, some things to consider in terms of logistics. Hope it's helpful!

Costs
So Iceland really is one of the priciest places I've ever heard of, definitely the priciest I've ever been to. Your head will spin when I share some of these numbers with you, but it's important to know what's coming, and modify your trip to fit your budget!

Accommodations
One of our non-negotiables was no camping. The potential single digit temperatures and perpetual daylight were too intimidating for me. So we decided indoor accommodations for sure. Now, I skip a step and don't "do" hostels. Only because I started really travelling when I was 28 and never did the backpacking thing, and now am a spoiled, privacy-lovin', grown up! So that right there was a big cost for us on this trip - accommodations. I booked 6 months in advance and was mainly aiming to get UNDER $200/night, whether it be a guesthouse (with or without a shared washroom :S) or airbnb. I treated us to a hotel one night that was in the "3"s (!!! I'd never pay that anywhere else!) and I learned that the same place was charging $480/night for people booking or just showing up in July. YIKES! So book early, and depending how you want to stay, plan for it. Hostels and camping would have reduced our costs by 90%, so that could have been a huge savings right there - if you're game, do it! Our accommodations were fairly hilarious in terms of how sparse they were - so Scandinavian in terms of avoiding any excess. Always 2 separate duvets folded on 2 twin mattresses pushed together with 2 very flat pillows and the world's smallest washroom, often with the toilet almost inside the shower; tiny kitchen, two burners. And done. Small and tidy, across the board.. I kind of missed our (evil, consumptive) North American excess. ;)

Rental Cars
Another non-negotiable for us was the rental of a 4x4 vehicle. Many roads in Icelands, known as "F-roads" are only navigable by a 4x4 and your insurance is voided if you take a little Yaris down them - plus that would have been seriously scary in places. Be very careful who you rent from. I read a LOT of reviews and a lot of bad ones at that. One of the more "reasonably" (HA!) priced and well-reviewed places was Blue Car Rentals. I found them very professional, and they gave us a Kia Sportage with 8,000 kms on it, that was in great shape. The whole experience was wonderful. On the other hand, we met other travelers who had been rented cars with 200,000 kms on them (!!!!) which broke down en route.. of course they did!! Others took cars down not-so-scary gravel roads and ended up blowing out/shredding multiple tires, likely due to tires being bald (I'd heard this from another friend as well, so always check your treads!). And then have a big drink before you finalize the booking of your car - instead of the $40/day I pay for car rentals for work here in Canada, the prices are closer to $200-250/day depending on the size of vehicle you get. Yup, do that math and think hard about how you want to travel around. Having your own car = ultimate freedom. Diesel was about $2/litre (not cheap, but a tank goes far). But I hear the bus system is not bad, and we saw lots of people hitchhiking as well. Also domestic flights were surprisingly cheap and would be a cool way to travel - $200 from Reykjavik to Isafjordur in the Westfjords?! Do that!

Our friendly Kia rental. Ensure keys are out of ignition before attempting to open gas tank door... finally figured out on Day 13

Eats and Drinks
Food and drinks were bananas. Not literally bananas (not much fruit there)... insanity bananas. The airport duty free MUST be your first stop - about $14 for a 6 pack of tall cans (not bad!), where as you can plan to pay $14/pint in most bars, especially around Reykjavik and other heavily traveled places in the south. YIKES!!! Jeff and I were just ordering pint after pint of draft during the first half of the soccer match, as you do, then nearly fainted when we got our dinner bill and found out that 4 pints = $60!! From then on we vowed to drink only our duty-free stash or share one beer at restaurants lol. (And don't buy beer at the grocery store - that "5%" marking on it means "5% of your daily recommended intake of sodium" or something like that - if you squint closer the % alcohol is only 2.5%!) Every time we ate out I was having small heart attacks, and had to come to terms with this fact: every meal in Iceland is going to cost you $20 (base cost) + what you'd expect to pay for that item in Canada. So if your chicken sandwich would be a $12 menu item here, it will be $32 there. If your lobster would cost $45 here, it will cost $65 there. And so on, If you can rectify this in your head, you'll do ok. Needless to say, the number of pb, and salami/cheese sandwiches, and small containers of Skyr (Icelandic yogurt) consumed out of our cooler bag, and grilled cheese and pasta dinners fried up in our airbnbs, went way up after the first restaurant experience. :) But it meant that when we did go out we were determined to appreciate it, try all the local cuisines, and enjoy every bite! Local food that was awesome: lamb (says Jeff), tiny lobster tails (so good) and other tiny shellfish, salted cod (unreal), and halibut or any other fresh caught fish (skip the plaice, kind of mushy). On those days when stuck on the road with limited food in the cooler, we would grab "roadtrip food" which really meant fairly disgusting hot dogs, burgers, coke zero, fries, pizza, etc. They love a greasy grill over there. Plan to pay at least $25 for a fast food meal, too. The only real deal was gas station hot dogs (revered by Icelanders, they love their hot dogs), which were oddly delicious and so cheap ($3!). Stomachache afterwards: guaranteed. Veggies were pretty limited - sad side salads or a few veggies roasted with the fish or in the fish soup. Grocery store veg was ok price-wise because they have greenhouses powered by geothermal heat. But overall, I felt borderline scurvy-ish when I got home and have been eating nothing but veggies for the past 12 days :) Oh and try the fermented shark... just to say you did it :D

Best restaurants: Kaffi Duus in Keflavik (near airport) - fish dishes; Pakkhuus in Hofn - lobster tails; The Tar House in Isafjordur - every bite you could put in your mouth was the best thing you've ever tasted, fresh out of the sea.

The Tar House, Isafjordur

In lovely contrast to the priciness of most things was the free admission to basically every natural site in the country. Waterfalls, national parks, geysir, mountains, bird cliffs - parking and admission were free, free, free. Very nice! Guided day-long tours were bank-breakers for sure. Expect about $500/pop. But if it's somewhere you couldn't get to on your own, or something you couldn't do on your own, just go for it! I have no regrets about our hike across Hornstrandir or up the glacier. I did notice that my 2013 Lonely Planet travel guide from the library would quote me a price on an activity ($20 for a cave tour!) and we'd show up to find the price had increased by at least 50-75% in three years ($34 for a cave tour!). This makes me suspect anything you do have to pay for is skyrocketing in response to the ever-growing number of tourists arriving in Iceland every year.

People
The people in Iceland were definitely nice, and friendly enough, and I was so impressed that everyone spoke English! It made travelling a breeze. However, the Icelanders weren't a particularly warm people - friendly to a point, then they were kind of done with you :P I'm used to the oozing, chatty charm of Irish and Italian people (we only travel to places starting with "I"), but everyone was helpful, polite and got the job done. I loved their dry sense of humour too. Our guide in Hornstrandir saw my face when I crossed a freezing mountain river in my bare feet, then when I asked him if it was cool to fill up our water bottle from the river he said, deadpan, "yes you just have to cross back to the other side of the river". Our tour guide on the glacial lagoon boat ride was the worst ever - I casually asked him "how do most people afford to eat here?" and he said "I eat canned food." No follow-up, no smile. Yipes.

Tourists
Anytime you can get away from hordes of tourists, do. It's like a panic attack waiting to happen at some of the sites that are clogged with people (note I went in the high season, July). However, anytime you can have a meaningful exchange with other travelers, do! It was so great to get tips on what to do/not to do and hear about the other types of trips people had taken around the country that were different than ours, or similar, and their opinions. We met some of the nicest people ever, from Australia, the U.S., Canada (of course), Belgium, Spain and Britain as we chatted with people here and there on our various travel experiences.

Timing
The northern lights are supposed to be spectacular in Iceland, but I can't imagine having had limited daylight for driving and sightseeing (not to mention there being snow...), so there's a tradeoff. In June/July it's light all day/night long which is something else (bring an eyemask, at least for the first few nights!) The northern lights are a huge part of the culture though, revered and celebrated - it would have been cool to see them. The reason I went in high season, which I never do, being someone not a fan of crowds (can you tell...), was because the average daily high in July is 16C. We reached 16C on about 3 days (one day got up to 19C). Otherwise it varied between 8C-12C or so. AGH! I thought it would be a refreshing break from Ontario's sticky summers, but instead I was pretty sad to put on a toque in July. :P Just bring layers and you'll be grand. My rain gear, fall jacket, fleece and some long sleeved shirts and tees did the trick. Icelandic weather is like in any other coastal place - every day a little sun, a little cloud, a little rain - some days mostly sun, some days mostly rain :) Do not bring shorts.. unless you're Jeff :D Apparently sometimes there are 20-23C days in June/July. I'll believe it when I see it! ;)

Northern Lights, photographed in April by my colleague Arni

Kitsch
I couldn't bring myself to buy any souvenirs because the ugly-cute Icelandic sweaters were $250!!! Made out of genuine, itchy sheep wool. I almost got some mitts, but same deal.. itchy sheep wool! But then I didn't want knock off non handmade gloves.. so I just got nothing. Oh, untrue, I bought a buff which I thought would be a good ear warmer/scarf/hat hybrid (it was).. but you can buy those at home! Lots of tacky stuff, and also giant stuffed puffins (didn't want to have to pay to check him ;)). But I didn't think anything from Iceland was a must-take-home. Some pretty art, but overpriced, as to be expected.

We were tempted, but just couldn't do it!! This model is so dorky, I love it.

Gear
Sturdy hiking boots are a must. Maybe it's my sprained ankle talking, but I barely wore my birks and really appreciated the support of my hiking boots as I trekked up yet another gravelly hill! And don't forget your bathing suit and towel for the public pools and natural hot pots! A total must! Quick dry hiking pants were my big "missed it" item re packing - I just didn't picture a trek up a mountain to be quite so soggy - my jeans were stylishly tucked into my socks the entire time on Hornstrandir to avoid having them wick cold mountain water up my legs!

Have So Much Fun
It's the kind of trip that you can make anything you want. I met a guy whose trip was focused entirely on pools and hot pots/hot springs. I met a group who were doing everything adventurous from hiking the glacier, to descending into a volcano! There were people there just to hike some of the famous multi-day treks. We met young single people, groups of friends, young couples, older couples, parents, and saw a hilarious number of grumpy teenagers being dragged along by their ears. It's kind of a great place for everyone and you can definitely make your own adventure. Enjoy your trip, and I can't wait to see YOUR pics!!

Iceland - Part I - Places to Go

I've been back from Iceland for 5 days but I think my heart may still be in the Westfjords. :) Coming home was lovely for a number of reasons: #1 being the furry happy face of my dog Bailey, next on the list the sheer size and number of pillows on our bed, and then some other factors like darkness at nighttime, vegetables and summer weather. It's neat how travel, even to one of the coolest places on earth, makes you appreciate what you have at home! But this was a tough one to come home from and I'm still dreaming of Iceland every night (like when I left my engagement ring in the kitchen the other day, and dreamt I had left it on the edge of a volcano). Thought it would be nice to walk down Iceland memory lane and also provide some trip advice for the bajillion people who have expressed that they're interested in going there in the near future. My advice would be: go, and go soon! With the cheap flights bringing in hoards (hordes? I'm never sure on that one) of tourists and the small population of the country just able to support the tourism industry for these masses, I have heard (and noticed) the prices (for tourist attractions, accommodations, food and rental cars) skyrocketing over the past few years and I'm guessing the plan is to keep jacking prices up until the number of visitors self-corrects out of necessity. So save up a chunk of change, and go enjoy the beauty soon! There are ways to do it cheaper than us, which I'll get into in my next post.

Reykjavik
Lovely city, but no real need to spend more than 1-2 days in Reykjavik. Though it's a big city in terms of physical size, a lot is sprawl and the good stuff is centered right around the downtown/City Hall/Old Harbour area. I'd recommend checking out the concert hall, Harpa, walking Bank St. to check out the galleries, restaurants and shops, and definitely spending time pretending to be a local - drinking, carousing, whatever your deal is. Jeff and I are sadly too old for nightlife (too much country to see to do it hungover!) but I hear it's out of control in Reyk :) If you can catch a soccer match, do it! We got to see Iceland vs. France in the Euro cup and the energy was insane! There is a public swimming pool just a 10-15 min drive from the centre of town that was so fun - 6 hot tubs of varying temps, a huge naturally heated swimming pool that the locals swim in year round (yes, outdoor swimming, year round.. can you imagine?!), and a super steam room. Not to mention a COLD PLUNGE, Scandinave-Collingwood style (yes, it's all coming together...) which has some crazy reaction in your body to make you feel drugged/happy/sleepy. This pool was so fun, we ended up finding pools in 3 other cities as we traveled along - such a great way to spend a couple of hours at the day's end!

Old Harbour - waiting to catch our puffin tour to the nearby islands in the Reykjavik harbour

One of the most energetic sports venues I've been to - "the hill". Made me excited for when the Leafs are back in the playoffs!

The Golden Circle

This part of Iceland is definitely the busiest and most tourist-y – the free stopovers offered by Icelandair mean that you can shoot out to see all these sights in a day on a bus from Reykjavik, so everyone does just that. However, for me, it was a can’t-miss because of geyser. Geysirs are freaking cool! It’s like live entertainment that actually just a natural phenomenon of the earth. It goes off every 10 minutes or so, so definitely a great place to hang for a couple of hours like we did. Thingvellir (that funny “p” symbol is pronounced with a “th” sound) National Park was a “have to see”, because how can you not go see giant crack in the earth where the continental plates are dividing? But it was crazy busy and without a lot of interpretive signage it was hard to know just where to look/what you were looking at. If you’re into waterfalls (like we are!) Gullfoss is definitely a great third stop ("foss" = waterfall). There are other bits you can add to the circle too, like Kerid crater area (pretty neat, but the only one you have to pay for).

Geysir

Gullfoss

Kerid

Fridland ad Fjallibaki

Yes, good luck with this language. This is a park/preserve that's technically in the highlands of Iceland. So the best way to get there is arranging a bus, hiring a private tour, or renting a 4x4 vehicle and taking your grit to drive for an hour down a somewhat sketchy gravel road. This was a last minute call for Jeff and I (we were going to spend the day on the Westman Islands off the south coast) but once we saw the pictures of the tie-dyed mountains at Landmannlauger, we couldn't NOT go!

Augh

The drive in was essentially a volcanic desert moonscape where you could see for miles, until the view was interrupted by a giant mountain. If you're into hiking, many people camp at Landmannlauger and set out for the 5 day trek to Thorsmork (again the funny "p"). We did a 4 km loop and saw some of the most beautiful mountains and lava fields ever, so that was ok for me! I wish we'd had time to go further afield to explore Mt. Hekla, a huge volcano due to erupt any day (I like living on the edge), but still nice to see it from the window during our highlands drive.

Vik

The rock formations at Dyrholaey were awesome, but to get "the" money shot of the hole in the rock, you need to approach it from the ring road heading east toward Vik. The view isn't quite the same from Dyrholaey. Also Vik is a lovely little wool-makin' town, with a cute church, a couple of nice restaurants, and great black sand beaches just on the edge of town.

Vatnajokull

Anytime you see "jokull", think glacier! There are many all around Iceland to play on. We do wish we'd gotten to take a snowmobile trip across the top of one, but there are only so many excursions one can stomach paying for ;) So we got our cramp-on and hiked up an offshoot of the main glacier in Iceland with Glacier Guides tours. Good workout, lots of fun, and learned a ton about glacial processes which was so cool. Because at the end of the day, I'm just a nerd.

The East

Sadly we had to skip the eastfjords and east coast of Iceland - we only had 2 weeks and were determined to spend some time in the Westfjords, which are off the beaten path of the ring road. So we took pictures as we drove from Hofn to Akureyri and had a lovely day of mountain views behind us after climbing up them! Don't miss Dettifoss on your way across the top of the country - unreal waterfall with a half hour bumping along a gravel road each way to get there :)

Akureyri & Lake Myvatn

I was more underwhelmed with Akureyri than I wanted to be. It's the biggest "city" in the north, and pretty/well-equipped, but I think the location of our airbnb (right downtown, so noisy all night long!), the weather (cold and mostly rainy) and my sprained ankle may have coloured it as less than awesome for me. Though there was still lots of fun to be had, including a day trip to Lake Myvatn. If you do this trip, I'd recommend: pseudocraters, birding, Krafla volcano area and the MYVATN NATURE BATHS! The latter is known as the Blue Lagoon of the north - it also has that insane milky blue water where your hands disappear after 6", full of silica so your skin feels lovely when you leave (though the built in benches are a little slimed up!), an infinity pool view out to the mountains, and for only half the price of Blue Lagoon in the south. Definitely worth a stop. Good people watching, including a man in a speedo and a toque, and a woman doing some sort of jazzercise with her eyes closed in the middle of the cooler pool. Jeff thought maybe she just wanted personal space. ;) We also rode Icelandic horses from Polar Hestar just outside Akureyri and the horsies are super cute, well behaved, and have excellent hairdos. Akureyri is a good base for whale watching too, but we thought since we were recently whale watching in Canada, we'd choose ponies instead!

Myvatn Nature Baths - stolen from internet :)

The Westfjords

Big, beautiful, dramatic, rocky, fjords and bays, barren, tiny fishing villages, abandoned farms, seals lounging on rocks, Arctic Ocean, puffins, sunshine, winding roads, the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve, Dynjandi waterfall, the Latrabjard bird cliffs, beaches, Isafjordur (best town in Iceland in my opinion - so cute, and peaceful). That is my list of words. My list of feelings: overwhelmed, miniaturized, humbled, comfortable, excited, engaged, in awe. This was a really special place. When I first got there I was thinking: I'm not sure it's THAT different of scenery, is it? But something is very, very different about the Westfjords. Maybe it's the fact that <10% of tourists make it up here ;) Whatever it was, it was well worth the three days we spent there and big drives around the winding fjord roads that took a long time to get you anywhere. :) Being at the Latrabjarg bird cliffs was an experience like no other. Watching charming puffins waddle and hop and take flight, and listening to them groan, and seeing their beautiful big orange beaks up close was something special. Hearing the other seabirds screaming in the background was magical. Amazing amazing place!

15 km guided hike (Westtours), Hornstrandir Nature Reserve

Snaesfellsnes Peninsula

We took the Baldur ferry from the Westfjords to Snaef. and had a nice day exploring there. We were SO TIRED from hiking 15km across the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve two days before, then having an epic day of driving/ferrying/birding the following day, and probably the 2 weeks of nonstop adventures we'd had as well - so every little hill to climb felt like a serious chore. :P "We are old" feelings aside, exploring the western tip of the peninsula in the National Park was very special, and the shark museum in the north where you can eat the disgusting fermented and dried shark meat was very worth it!! Of course I made Jeff try it and didn't eat it (I'm a supertaster! like I'm going to eat fermented shark!) and his reaction was mixed. But you can't go and not eat the local cuisine, right!? :)

Fermented shark - drying shack

I don't have any regrets about the ambitious schedule we laid out for ourselves. It meant a couple of long days travelling but was worth it to be able to land in a couple of places for multiple nights and really soak in the landscape and culture. We almost didn't make it to Latrabjarg bird cliffs (would have been a major regret), but Jeff changed our ferry ticket to make sure we did, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who loves puffins. And who among us does not love a puffin!?!?

Hi sweetiepie

I'm going to write a second post focusing more on lessons learned, travel tips, costs (and how to reduce them) and get that up later this week. I found reading other travel blogs really helpful so I hope these posts can be a resource to all my facebook/friends who expressed an interest in wanting to visit this awesome place someday soon!

So Far, So Good

Well it's been a wild week, but I'm happy to say it's finally OVER. All sorts of good things happened which I'm so grateful for - the biggest one being my dad had his Whipple surgery for a bile duct tumour last Friday at Juravinski hospital in Hamilton, and the operation went very well. My mom and I had a surprisingly alright day in the parking office, the coffee shop down the street, the waiting room, the Lebanese restaurant down the street and distracting ourselves by doing every puzzle in the Toronto Star (champions). We both started to go downhill around Hour 6 of his surgery, so when the doc told us everything was good at Hour 7 the relief was palpable. The tight fist of emotions I'd been trying to breathe through (the fist was sitting squarely on my solar plexus) bubbled out of me via a giant relieved bout of sobbing locked in the hospital bathroom (that I never want to see again, for the record) and I felt like I was walking on air after that. It took another 3 hours before we got to see him (around 6 p.m.), but seeing my dad awake, comfortable (read: many pain meds) and cracking jokes that soon after such a major surgery was just amazing for all of us. I was so happy he made it through! I stayed fairly euphoric until about Sunday night, so that was a nice couple of days of visits and just being grateful to the universe for getting him through.

I made a deal with said universe (ah, agnosticism) that I would get back to eating healthily and exercising (sympathy muffin top is keeping me out of most of my shorts...) if all went well so it's been really nice enjoying delicious salads, wraps, fruit, veggies and bike rides, runs and strength training all week! Anytime I wasn't with my dad in the hospital, dashing off some emails, or participating in a quick con call (thank you NCC, best employer ever, for letting me take my own sick time to visit with and care for my dad this week), I was working out or making food, which always makes me feel a lot more grounded!

The week got a bit tougher as it went on, largely because the pain meds went away. My dad is a tough cookie who took no pain medicine after he had a metal plate screwed into his ankle that he shattered in a hockey injury, so I knew the pain had to be getting to him after they took his epidural out and the fentanyl went away when he requested oral pain meds and noted they didn't seem to be working. :( He was a bit more grumpy as he dealt with the pain and the discomfort of the 7 million degree hospital rooms. I was happy to be able to be there to help him out by fetching him a fresh ice pack, ice water, adjusting his fan, his blanket, whatever he needed. It's so easy to feel completely useless and helpless in a hospital setting like that, so knowing I was doing a thing or two to make him a bit more comfortable was comforting to me. We learned about the wonders of dry shampoo, and what happens when you take a drain out too early (we coined the incident "drain-splosion" and "drain-tastrophe", and we'll just leave it at that!!), and just how tough things can be for people in the hospital with cancer that's made it much further along than where my dad was at, like for his roommate Tony :(

Every day it seemed like a different tube was taken out (there were about 6 to start), and in no time at all (Day 6, usually a 7-10 day hospital stay!) he was discharged. I brought him from Juravinski to Niagara on the Lake this morning where he moves over into the care of Nurse Gwen (my mom). I think he'll be way more comfortable at home, with A/C, his own bed, his goofy dog, a nice big tv (vs. the teeny tiny one on a moveable arm we paid for so he could watch Game 1 and 2 this week!). You could tell he was nervous to leave the hospital - with the round the clock care, all the meds, all the answers - but I know he's going to continue to recover and do great at home.

Two days before he had his surgery my mom threw a F*#! Cancer! party for my dad at their home which FORTY FIVE people showed up to. Other than my uncle and aunt, and my mom and I, the crowd was entirely friends my parents have made in Niagara on the Lake since they moved there less than 3 years ago. So I know he'll have a crowd of visitors streaming through in the coming weeks while he rests and gets better. He has "home care" (a nurse he can visit in St. Catharines) to attend to his incision site/dressings, a follow up appointment to get his stitches out on Tuesday, strict orders not to lift anything heavy for TWO MONTHS!, and an interesting sugar-free low-fat diet that he'll have to get used to as his body recovers from losing his gall bladder, half his pancreas and part of his small intestine. My mom is a great chef, so no doubt she can make gnocchi taste great at least 10 different ways :)

For a crappy situation, things are pretty damn great. I am pretty damn lucky and excited to move toward the goal of that extra 20-25 years with my dad I had always expected to get. I'm a little more jaded, realistic and cautious now than I was before, but also so incredibly full of gratitude with a better understanding of what really matters in life.

Thanks to all my friends and family who have supported me emotionally so I could support my parents during this awful past 7 weeks. After I wrote my last blog post I was so touched by the number of people who reached out with messages, texts, visits, invites to hang out and things they thought would make me laugh. :) I have an amazing group of friends, both close, and far, and facebook-only :)

Life will go a little bit back to normal now, and I'm glad for that. It will never be quite exactly the same ever again, but I'll embrace whatever normal-ness I can grab on to. My bff sent me Sheryl Sandberg's commencement speech which was just incredible advice for dealing with hard times - it was, and is so important to remember the three P's, particularly that when bad things happen, they are not pervasive (they cannot invade all parts of your life) and they are not permanent (they can't, and won't last forever). Check it out if you're going through something too, and have 25 mins to chill out with this great woman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqm-XEqpayc

And now some pics to cap off this chapter (for now? hopefully for a long time, or even better, forever). Thanks again everyone for reading, listening, and reaching out. I'm a lucky girl to have so many great people holding me up. xoxo

The horse my dad worked on colouring during his first hospital stay in April. We are going to finish him during his recovery!

Dad and I at Floral Clock in Niagara Falls on May 16, pre mini-golf (he beat my mom and I, no surprise there!)

Dad and I in our green for bile duct cancer custom shirts at his F*!# Cancer party on May 25

This was an interesting conversation with the bakery...

And so far, so good!

I hope none of you ever have to spend much time at Juravinski Hospital, but the view from the top of the mountain is pretty nice if you are in there. Ward E4, then go to the new section with all the giant windows!

Cancer, My Dad, and Support

For someone who talks a lot, I haven't said very much for the past month. I just couldn't find the words. Just over 1 month ago my dad was admitted to the hospital with elevated levels of liver and pancreas enzymes, and other symptoms pointing to a blockage in a bile duct. That same night, we found out the blockage was possibly a tumour, and my world turned upside down. Because up to that point I had been fairly convinced that my parents were immortal. I was very sure that my dad did not deserve anything bad to happen to him. And I had no idea what I would do if this situation ended the way some situations with cancer do - with losing my dad. I still don't. And when I don't have the answers, and the words are physically painful when they come out of my fingertips onto the keyboard - writing was something I knew I should do, but couldn't bring myself to do.  But here I am. It took a month and three days, but here I am.

My dad has bile duct cancer. We are very lucky it appears to have been caught early and can be operated on. However the operation is a complicated one - a Whipple (fellow Grey's Anatomy fans will recognize that word - unfortunately, you hear about it because the doctors fight over that surgery, because it's so 'cool', sophisticated, and complicated). They will remove his gall bladder, part of his pancreas, part of his small intestine and the bile duct containing the tumour. Seems extreme for a thumbnail sized obstruction, no? I agree. But the "plumbing" in that area of the body is complex, and those digestive systems talk to one another quite a bit. So it seems a Whipple is a 'better safe than sorry', do what you have to with minimal damage kinda thing. Unfortunately my dad will be in recovery for 6-8 weeks, including some time in the ICU when the surgery is over. Complications happen in about 1/3 of cases, but the mortality rate from the surgery is a mere 2%, which is good news if you ask me. He will likely have chemo afterwards as a precaution, and regular scans probably for the rest of his life. The 5 year survival rate for this type of cancer is only 50-60%, but as my doctor friend Michelle says, numbers are just numbers and every case is unique. My dad is young, strong and healthy - he's got a good chance of landing on the right side of those odds.

There has been far too much waiting. Waiting in the hospital with him, passing the time with coloring books and sharing our annoyance about the doctors in the St. Catharine's hospital who would flit in for 30 seconds every morning and leave my family with more questions than they actually answered. Waiting for tests - ultrasounds, CAT scans, MRIs, ECRPs. Waiting for the results from tests. Waiting for his surgery to be booked. Waiting for surgery (Friday, May 27 - sorry Carden Challenge, but I don't know how to not be there for him and my mom). Waiting is the in-between of reality when your brain can be your best friend and protect you from worst case scenarios, or be your worst enemy and wander your thoughts down those roads that take you to scary places you don't want to stay very long. Some people cope by staying in the worst case scenario places so that bad news feels like good news ("it's bile duct cancer that's operable! not pancreatic cancer that's terminal!"), Some people cope by not visiting the bad places at all (though the crash down to reality afterwards is tougher, due to how high you were keeping your hopes). Me, I land somewhere in the middle. Don't go to the extreme bad places until you have to. Focus on the positive. But oh my goodness, friends, I am so scared. I feel so sad for my dad he has to go through this. Selfishly, I keep going back to "but I wanted another 20-30 years with him" - he's only 62. I sure do hope I get my time.

I have learned some lessons that I thought I'd share.

TELL THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE THAT YOU LOVE THEM. Do not hold grudges over small things - work to resolve problems as quickly as you can! Time here is limited, and far too short for petty grievances and hurt feelings getting in the way of real conversations and real love.

If you're like me and visit your out of town parents every ~1 month, why not try to throw in an extra visit in the middle. Life gets busy, but there is always time for the people who raised you and loved you and waited patiently through your temper tantrums, your crabby teenage years, and your slew of inappropriate boyfriends that you kept threatening to marry ;) You may not have the 20-30 years you are expecting (though I sincerely hope most of us get them).

Don't be naive to the fact that disaster can strike anytime. Don't live your life in fear, but realize that life is certainly not all peaches, roses, rainbows, etc - and if it has been for a long time like mine was, be even more prepared that it can't last forever. But definitely don't take how good you have it for granted - appreciate it every day.

As my friend Teva would say, live your life like a tornado! Drink it all in. Don't be afraid. Have fun. Experiment. Experience. Laugh. Love, Enjoy. Seriously folks - it's all a fucking random crapshoot, and we're all damn lucky to get to experience it - but the time limit on how long we get to stay here is a big question mark, so stop waiting and start living!

And my last lesson, the hardest one for me to talk about.. the one I should be texting you, messaging you, calling you to tell you... but I'm too shy(?) insecure(?) scared(?) to ask for what I need. I'm too bothered by the idea of inconveniencing you, that I just leave it alone. But here it is: I am someone who needs support in the form of chats, texts of good thoughts, laughs, visits with my friends and distraction by their thoughts, their lives, their stories. I am so incredibly grateful for the people who have forced "good times" on me over the past month. I have been so reluctant to say yes - why would you want to spend your Saturday night with me, with this big grey cloud hanging over my head?? But when you do, and we laugh and laugh, and enjoy ourselves, and talk about this crappy situation, but then move on and talk about hockey playoffs - it is so helpful, and healing and wonderful. I have no words to thank you for doing that for me.

I understand the fear of reaching out to someone having a tough time: I don't want to bother them when they're going through something big. I don't want to make them think about this scary situation if they're currently having an ok day, I don't want to be a pest. I better not.  Perhaps for some people this is true and they would appreciate the space (though honestly.. I highly doubt it.. and if they want the space, they will surely tell you and not begrudge you for asking!). For me.. space is not what I want. I felt lucky to get to apply this lesson this week, for friends going through something much more urgent and scary than this. I thought about making some food to drop off (cookies really do make everything feel a bit better.. I have enjoyed a lot of cookies lately...), but then thought: "but they're so busy; this is such an upsetting time; plus my friend REALLY hates pop-ins" (that's something we've always teased her about). I bet before my own realizations about support, I would have backed off for fear of offending or bothering them and just done nothing. But instead, Jeff will be dropping a care package at their place after work today, because on what planet would anyone mind getting cookies and a note to say "I'm thinking about you", even if we catch them at a tough moment or no one is home? It took me my own situation to realize this, though. Big lesson on supporting the people you care about, even when it's hard to know how, or they try to say no.

I want to send my sincerest thank yous for everyone who has said "if there's anything I can do, let me know". That means so much to me! To those who haven't said anything, that's totally ok too. It's hard to know what the hell to say!! Feelings are tough. Cancer is tough. Support is tough. And everyone is living their own busy, hectic lives and I know it's hard to keep every crisis at the front of your mind. Totally get it. From here forward I promise to ask for what I need when I need it, from those who have offered to be there when I need it. It's often not much more than a talk, a visit, a cup of tea, some friendly contact, or a safe, supportive place I can talk about what scares me and these myriad life lessons I keep getting punched in the face with every day. Thank you for offering, and I will do better to take you up on your incredible generosity and kindness. Jeff could probably use a break :) (sidenote to say he is the best husband in the entire world and I couldn't have gotten through any of this without his love and support! he is just amazing!).

Last lesson: life is all about love, the relationships your form, your friends, your family and the people in it. Cherish and honour those things as much as you can.

Today I'm going down to visit my parents in Niagara (lieu days are the best - I led a rainy nature tour in 9C/45 km/hr winds on Saturday so I definitely deserve this sunny day off!!). My dad is doing just fine. They put a stent in to make the bile flow through the blocked duct, and he even worked a shift at his job as a tour guide for wineries yesterday, and went golfing with his buddies last week and had the high score! Today I suggested we go glow in the dark mini putting, go to the casino, or to the wild bird kingdom in Niagara Falls (rainbow lorakeets land and poop on you - what could be more life affirming than that??). Or we may just sit out in the sunny backyard and be glad for life, for time together, and for good food and wine. I'm grateful for this day.

Thanks for reading. xoxo

Just feeling so lucky to have him as my dad!!! :*)

Sugar Update

This is just a quick update because after my January of non-stop blabbing about my "#kristynquitsugar" experiment people have been following up with me about how I'm doing.  It's been just under a month since I decided to chill the f*ck out and just go back to eating whatever I wanted, and see what happened.

You'd think after restricting sugar for all those weeks I would have fallen face first into a cake, but I was extremely hesitant to eat added sugar again. I was terrified about the idea of having to go through withdrawal again, mainly, and scared of how badly I might feel if I ate it based on my tiny experiments during the weeks of removing it from my diet.  So nothing happened, until a few days later at a restaurant my best friend ordered a white chocolate brownie with ice cream and whipped cream and offered me some at dessert.  She apologized for being an enabler, but I explained she wasn't at all.  Because what happened was I had a couple of bites, found it overpoweringly sweet, put my spoon down and forgot about it. For the first time in history - a dessert sat on the table in front of me, and I DIDN'T WANT IT.

At that cake-filled staff retreat the following week there were, no joke, thirty varieties of cake after every lunch and dinner.  The first night I scraped the tiniest sliver off the side of a mint chocolate torte (which looked DELECTABLE!) and nibbled a couple of bites of it before again finding the flavour very sweet, almost fake, overwhelming and somehow.. soapy?  I pushed it away and my colleague who had been commiserating with me at dinner about sugar addiction asked, a bit embarrassed, if she could finish it (we'd just met 30 minutes earlier).  I sympathetically pushed the plate her way - I have been that girl many, many times in many, many situations - I felt her!!  The rest of the week was about the same - a bite here and there.  I ate an entire piece of cherry pie one day which was absolutely lovely and didn't make me feel weird or ill - I wondered if it's because it was delivered with such a whack of fat (and no sugar) in the crust, and fiber in the fruit - perhaps added sugar was a bit in the backseat?  I also SUPER enjoyed a blueberry scone and some banana bread on a hungover morning during plenary and breakout sessions. But it didn't want to make me eat the sugary snacks that were always waiting just outside the conference room doors.

The past month or so has continued much like that, with an unfortunate side effect that whenever I do have added sugar (e.g. two bites of milk chocolate, or maybe 8 chocolate-covered peanuts, or a one bite brownie, or a Chips Ahoy sized chocolate chip cookie) I get a debilitating headache that lasts no less than 20 minutes. It's quite an impressive deterrent to wanting to eat traditional sweet desserts :( I'm still comfort eating with a bag of chips or smartfood here and there, and have become obsessed with blueberry muffins (chocolate chip muffin = headache; blueberry muffin = heaven... ??).  I also notice I still reach for something sweet after meals, though it's most likely to be fruit (mango, raspberry, apple with pb - all of these things taste like absolute bliss, way better than they did in my past life!) or a date-sweetened dessert.  Never ate a date in my life before 2016 but I can whip up a couple of date desserts that are just lovely - even chocolatey, and headache and trouble free.  I can also eat just a few bites and walk away - though I often want more bites after my next meal because they're so good! A big part of this experiment was wanting to make my socially debilitating post-meal sweet cravings go away and it has largely worked, though it's not to say I don't still want/enjoy those treats when they're around!

I love how I can walk past the open package of cookies or box of chocolates on the kitchen table at work up to 10-20x/day (depending how much tea I drink haha) and not really want them, or care about them. I do feel like I have regained some autonomy - yeehaw for autonomy!

I still appreciate the beauty and delight of desserts - emotionally.  I still hope I'll be able to eat a piece of cake at my best friend's shower and wedding without falling to the ground with a piercing headache. I'm guessing much like most things that end up becoming addicting, they feel pretty bad at first (e.g. first time smoking - so I hear, never tried!) but then you kind of like it, kind of want it, add a little more, then a little more, you like the after effects so your body starts ignoring the ill-effects, and before you know it you have a full blown habit.  I won't be actively trying to put sugar back in my former-self-hurricane-pathway and hopefully it means I can continue to have a grown-up, controlled relationship with it.  Hopefully :)

I wasn't expecting the headaches - they are so weird!!!!! But, hey, that's the point of an experiment I guess - occasional unexpected outcomes....

And to provide some honest commentary on my life - I have had many many less than impressive days in 2016.  Lots of couch.  Some days where I've eaten what feels like my body weight or more in various treats (calorie bomb smoothies stuffed with vanilla protein powder, mango and peanut butter - oh man so good; french fries until I couldn't fit anymore in my stomach, eating a whole day of calories by noon, etc.).  I slacked off from working out for full weeks here and there.  Definitely not losing weight or getting smaller (hopefully not getting bigger!!!). I became incredibly disenchanted with cooking for a couple of weeks and just frankly didn't do it (smoothies are dinner, right?). But with all that said, my main lesson was that I'd really like to learn how to beat myself up less for not being perfect - isn't this just life? I'm happy to say I worked out today and cooked a lovely asparagus risotto for Jeff and I tonight - and it felt wonderful (though I wish I hadn't worked out my arms before making a dinner you have to stir for a full hour!!).  Then again, last Sunday on the couch with Jeff's muffin delivery service (what a Valentine, eh!) felt pretty lovely in its own way too.

I wonder sometimes if my greatest lesson in life will be cutting myself some slack, giving myself a break and feeling proud of myself for the things that are going well, instead of focusing on those that haven't.

Stay tuned - this blog and author are, as always, a work in progress. :)