It's Stampede Week, and I'm a tired Turtle.

Yes, sir. Many days of early mornings and late nights filled in with settling in to a new vie avec Nathalie has made Tortue a tired boy.

A couple days ago I was up far before the birds because by the time the birds were to be up, I had to be on site at a pancake breakfast to provide sound for a group of perhaps-not-so-enthusiastic corporate types.

As I was in my pre-first-coffee daze - around about 6:30 AM - I came across a well-known classic country tune that, as it was playing, reminded me of that age-old question,

"If you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would that be?"

The song in question was Country Roads by John Denver.



Why this man, you ask?

The answer is simple.

And that, too, is the answer: His unique simplicity.

I truly believe that most artists - be they painters, poets, authors or musicians to name a few, express themselves and quite often the truest sense of themselves through their art.

There I was, in my far-too-early-in-the-morning-to-be-here daze, unable to do anything but that which was ingrained in me through sheer repetition of the years. Somehow, the lyrics and music and genuin-ness of the man came through clear as chrystal.

This is a guy I'd love to know.

Of course, John Denver has passed away, but isn't it wonderful that he's left a few pieces of that which fed his soul and inspired other humans along the way.

This space reserved for...

...a really long story!

Of course, the story grows longer as the days pass by, so I should do my due by not putting it off any longer.

I told you recently of a lifestyle change I've been preparing for.

A big one.

It involved, but has not be limited to, a whirlwind tour by truck round-trip to Quebec City.

And yes, AC, it had everything to do with a girl.



Meet Nathalie. She made the decision to move back to Calgary from Quebec City back in May, and I've been excited, not to mention a little nervous ever since.



We took this picture of us in the lobby of the Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City on April 5th. I think it's a delightful shot.

I'll give you all a fully-detailed account of the trip soon, but duty calls and I must now move some furniture out to make some room... she's off to buy a kitten she found at the pet store.... won't Tiki be pleased! Now our household is up to two dogs, two cats and a rabbit... not to mention four humans.

Tally-ho!

Oh, yes, more on my visit with AC as well...

A bientoi!

When's the next train?

OK, you all know I love trains, rail lines... pretty much anything to do with railways in general. My friend Utah and I went walking in Edworthy Park yesterday.


The CPR tracks run east/west along the south end of the park, and as we walked the Douglas Fir Trail, we came to an opening that exposed the railway.



Honestly, I'm not in the habit of tying girls to train tracks... this one volunteered all on her own!




It was a beautiful evening for photos all around... this one of Calgary's downtown core demonstrates why so many people were upset at the height of the Petro Canada Buiding; what's Calgary's skyscape without the Calgary Tower?




Last week a complete stranger told me I had a genuinely good aura about me. Looking at this photo, I tend to agree.

It can't hurt to pray

I've never really considered myself an overly "religious" sort. I think it comes from an experience I had in my mid-teens when I found myself going to church and watching all these people "going through the motions", as I saw it at the time. They would recite similar passages every week, and you could tell those who were simply rambling on from memory when a slightly different text was introduced. You know, they read the following sentence as they had the week before, only the selected version of the text was only slightly different enough to be just that. While those who were reading continued on by the text, those who were reciting from memory were caught not paying attention, and it was painfully obvious. This was only one example of the number of people I saw "going through the motions". Sometimes I felt that the clergy would do much of the same, with the same inflections on the same words, verbatim from last week. They were reading what seemed to me to be sacred words, words to be honoured and respected, not rambled off.

You often hear the story of the parishoner who dozes off during a lengthy and sometimes boring sermon, well... that happened too.

I've had a lot on my mind over the last week or so, and as I sit here in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, my thoughts have turned to prayer. I think sometimes quite seriously about my own spirituality and my approach to living life. Sometimes I wonder if I'm that very parishoner who, instead of blindly reciting words of worship, am blindly making my way through life. Sure, I'm aware of a lot of things around me, and some would agree that I'm among some of those more "self-aware".

I'm preparing for a rather dramatic change in my lifestyle right now, and it has me thinking of such things as how I conduct my life - most specifically my daily practices.

Am I paying them all the attention they so richly deserve?

I speak specifically about daily habits like domestics - quite literally, keeping house. I'm not always the most organized fellow, and every so often it causes me enough grief that I sit up and take notice.

Also, things like keeping my health. Last year at this time I remember being almost hyper-focused on it. I was on top of my regular chiropractic programme, massage therapy treatments each week and yoga. By the end of November last year I'd let a number of those things slide - like the parishoner who goes through the motions. Sure, I was "religious" about visiting the chiropractor, but all the supporting activities became very hit-and-miss.

I cleaned the inside of my van yesterday and found myself, quite literally, not satisfied. Everything was wiped down, the floor and seats vacuumed, but I started to flip out because now that it was "mostly clean", the few specks that remained stuck in the carpet, or the stains left behind from a beverage spilled were driving me completely bonkers.

Then it hit me.

Am I becoming a perfectionist?

I thought about it.

Hard.

I remember when I first started working with sound systems and electronics. I, at 16 or 18 years of age, had the best sounding stuff. I was so fixated on the quality of gear I used that nothing else mattered. I was a perfectionist at 18, only I didn't have enough energy nor interest to carry it through all aspects of my life. It took so very much personal energy to maintain perfection in my area of interest that I found it impossible to be that way in the areas of tidiness, wardrobe (and that's a biggie for me right now - people who dress like they're "put together" impress me, whereas I, for as long as I can remember, have been quite satisfied with much less), academic study and so forth.

So here I sit, thinking about all the areas in which I've been "going through the motions". Maybe with a little more focus and some genuine prayer, starting from the inside working out, it will all come together.

Step One, back to bed for some much-needed sleep.

Turtle out - sans spell-chek

Camping in Charlevoix

I went camping last week. In Charlevoix. It's beautiful country on the St. Lawrence. Here's an idea of the landscape:


A lot of the old houses were made of stone






One of my favourite photos. I love trains and rail lines!


A bit of an "artistic" shot here






The weather was a bit rainy and wet, making the fire a bit smokey... no, a lot smokey.


Lots of plastic, a good thing too!

"How are you?" "Tired and cranky, thanks...." "Well, at least you're aware of it."

Those were the words I shared with my chiropractor this afternoon as I lay head-down on the adjusting table. I don't really like being in a grumpy mood, but sometimes it's just the way it is, and today was one of those days. Dr. Mike had some interesting input. He said that adjustments to the neck often affect positively one's "mood", almost instantly because allowing the endorphins to flow through the neuro-transmitters create for us that "feel-good" feeling. All very well and fine - I generally feel better after an adjustment any time, but honestly, it's just a bit of a down day for me.

I won't get into the details here, but I'm facing - by choice - some events over the next month or so that will be significantly, and quickly, life-changing. Those of you who are closest know what I'm talking about, however I'm not quite ready to make it public knowledge, except to say it's taken a great deal of my personal energy lately.

I came home from a bit of a camping get-away to some sad news. John Pilling passed away while I was out of town. He was the rector at our church during my early teens and twenties. Also, the current rector at the church announced that he and his wife are separating.

Need a nap.

Turtle out.

...we interrupt this broadcast to bring you...

OK, almost a week afterward, (It's Friday now) I've got some time and inspiration to write about the Mother's Day 5K race (if you'd call it that) I ran on Sunday last. To Mollie and Janice, thanks for your pre-text comments on the post and I hope this answers your questions!

I started running in December or January (It's all a big blur, really...) and along the way had a little help picking and paying for the correct shoes. Pretty much everyone in this circle of bloggers knows Sarah, and after having watched her go from blown-out knees to marathon-runner, I was concerned about what running could potentially do to me. After all, it's no wussy sport! Running is hard on things like ankles, knees, hips, spines and heads (physically if you land on it, and emotionally if you let setbacks get the best of you) To be honest, I've never really even liked running. I've never done it well, felt really clunky at it and as a result, never really put my heart into it - let alone my soul... or come to think of it, my sole, too!!

I consulted my chiropractor who, by the way, was instrumental in getting Sarah back on her feet, so I felt confident in honest words from a man who also is a runner and all-round athletic type. He said to me,

"That's great - do it, absolutely! But... start slowly. If you work into it starting now, you'll run the full 5K. If you over do it off the top, you'll be walking it, or may not do it at all."

That was enough for me. So in my true Turtle style, I dogged it. I mean, I started SLOWLY! I checked out the web for this thing they call a "walk-run" programme. The fist one I came to suggested a ratio of 90 seconds walking to 30 seconds running. Very well. I did it. There's a bike and walking path by my house, a portion of which was ideal for my training. It took me down some hill, up some hill and had some flat spots too. I discovered very quickly, though, that the cold winter air - not to mention the icy patches on the path - set me back. I couldn't seem to run when it was chilly out, let alone windy. Overall, I had a very on-again-off-again training thing going on for months. Those of you who live in the Calgary area or know people who do, know that our weather patterns here can be and are rather erratic. This year particularly has been all over the map weather-wise. Needless to say, I hadn't done a lot of running just prior to Race Day, so it was going to be an interesting challenge!

As if I didn't have enough challenges already, I had work in Banff on the Saturday night prior to the race. I crawled in the door at something like 2:30 AM, the race was to commence at 9:00 AM.

I met my sister, brother-in-law, nieces and nephew on the C-train platform at the University and we rode down together. (along with SO MANY other enthusiastic runners!)


My sister, Laura May, sporting her green walkers bib.


Here we see Doug and Julia. Julia walked the course with Laura May, Doug warmed up with the Mother's Day 5K then headed for his long-run, an additional 20-some-K in training for the full-marathon in July.



Here's Daniel - he and Doug paced together, starting out at the 8-minute-per-kilometre mark.



Nicole ran with me, requesting that we back ourselves up a bit to the 9-minute-per-kilometre start position. I wasn't going to let on, but I'm kinda glad we did, considering my state of sleep deprivation!



Eyes-front to the main stage and start line



My attempt at an artistic shot of our start position, showing the Calgary Tower. 9th. Avenue is a one-way east, however for the race we faced west."




Looking forward to the 8-minute-per-kilometre position. Can you spot Doug and Daniel?



Along the way, heading north on 4th Street, I spotted this, a gourmet hot dog joint. I've never been to Le Chien Chaud being a proud supporter of Tubby Dog on 17th Avenue, but I will one day venture back to check it out.




The race completed at Olympic Plaza, but not before passing in front of City Hall on MacLeod Trail. Here we are (Doug played photographer with my phone) after the race.

All tolled, it was a great day. I wouldn't say it qualified in my mind as a "race" more than simply a "fun-run". The course was flat, which was a pleasant surprise since the majority of my running had been on one piece of pathway with lots of hills. Wouldn't you know it though, as we rounded the corner of 10th Avenue and headed up MacLeod Trail in front of City Hall toward the finish line, there was this grade. Not much, but just enough to frustrate a newbie-runner. Here you can TASTE the finish line, and all of a sudden there's this wee challenge of a grade! It makes me laugh to think about it!

Oh, and only one little frustration during the run: I discovered a little over half-way that my timing chip had broken free of my shoe. I was clocked in at the start line, but never clocked out at the finish. I checked the stats on the website, and my name doesn't even appear as "not completed" - I simply don't exist. It kinda choked me since I'd worked toward this, my first-ever-race, for months. Ah well, I have photos and witnesses, and best of all I have the memory of a race well run.