Perfect Timing

I have a passion for what some might call “bad photos.” You know the ones, where the camera snaps before your eyes were open or before you lifted your head or your hand isn’t perfectly on your hip yet or your mouth is making an awkward upside-down duck bill. These, by far, are a few of my favourite things. If my friends allowed me, I would make shirts with all their stupid grins, drunken smirks, distance glances, and awkward stances; and I would wear them with pride.

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Of course there are just ‘bad photos,’ and its tough to put my finger on what it is that differentiates the special ones from the ones we ought to chuck in the waste basket. But, for me at least, I think it comes down to a few simple things.

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Ain’t nobody got time for that?

Not so long ago I was sitting in my recently tidied apartment with nothing but 4 hours of completely obligation free time. It was terrifying. I had no idea what I should be doing. I mean, I could fall down a rabbit hole of some Netflix show that I don’t really care about, or scroll through the interwebs endlessly, but to what end?

Excessive free time isn’t a state most of us find ourselves in, I don’t think. Though, who am I to speculate, maybe you have an insane amount of free time and I’m just projecting busy-ness onto all of you. But, at least from how we all go on, we seem to generally live (or create) rather busy lives.

I, however, am in this weird sweet spot in my life where I have almost no weekly obligations other than showing up to my Monday – Friday, 9 – 5 job. I should really get to volunteering for something, but that’s a discussion for a different day. I also happen to have a friend who has two children under the age of 3 and a husband who travels a lot for work. The stark juxtaposition of our lives struck me in the face with the realization that I will probably never have more free time in my life than I do right now, and I best take full advantage of it to follow whatever whims I choose.

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It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love. Love. Love.

According to John and Paul, it’s all you need.

We go to great lengths for the things and the people we love. But I mean, if all you need to survive is love, then why not. Suddenly ‘alls fair in love and war’ seems a reasonable notion.

I find the idea of finding your ‘one true love,’ idealistic and irrational. I mean, one person out of all the people in the world? Life isn’t Cinderella, your one true love won’t find you because you have a magic slipper that only fits your foot that a kind, sparkly, and somewhat rotund woman in a blue dress gave you (but let’s not get too cynical this close to Valentine’s day.)

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Why I Gym

I’ve always been an active kid. My parents would make my brothers and I go outside and run around, we spent our days climbing fences, swinging from trees, and riding our bikes around town from park to park. I’m sure I complained, but really I loved it. I’ve always loved getting active. I grew up playing sports in school then graduated to the adult world of fitness centres.

In recent years I took up running, and more recently heavy weight lifting. I’m not here to tell you to do the same, or prophesize about how it will change your life, but I will tell you why I go to the gym or run long distances or pay a someone to kick my ass.

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