Changes

Crazy how a new human being in the house can change things, eh?

As many of you may or may not know, my wife and I welcomed our first child into our life on January 21st. Sofia Elizabeth Bhamani was born at 11:39 am at Oakville-Trafalgar Memorial Hospital, weighing 7 pounds 7 ounces. Both mom and Sofia are doing great.

It was quite the experience, one that I am completely unable to put into words. It all happened ridiculously fast - my wife was only in active labour for four hours. Sofia was born just one full hour after we got to the hospital (scotch-guarding the leather upholstery in the back seat almost paid off).

Originally, I didn't think I could handle watching the actual birth, and wasn't even sure if I would want to cut the umbilical cord. In the end, I did both, and it was just the most remarkable thing I have ever witnessed. Seeing Sofia being born and immediately being placed on my wife's chest was absolutely breathtaking. For me, it was more emotional than when Joe Carter went deep off of Mitch Williams in game 6 of the '93 world series. That's right. It was that powerful.

It has been a week since Sofia's unusually punctual arrival (she was born on her due date), and life is progressing as you might expect. Late night feedings, crying, lots of dirty diapers (she clearly takes after her dad), and lots of pictures. But its not only our daily lives that have changed, so has our house.

Consider my living room, for example, where I am currently writing this essay. Prior to last Thursday, the living room had the following:

- TV with stand;

- couch;

- chair with ottoman;

- coffee table and side table;

- two lamps;

- china cabinet; and

- two bar stools.

Now, my living room has everything mentioned above, plus:

- a baby car seat;

- a playard (don't call it a play pen);

- an unassembled swing seat;

- a nursing pillow;

- dirty dishes

- dirty laundry;

- clean laundry;

- diaper bag;

- a quilt laid out on my shag area rug;

- stuffed animals;

- half a stroller;

- burp clothes;

- two cameras - one point and click, one digital SLR; and

- one camcorder.

Changes, indeed.

My training schedule has clearly gone on a hiatus as I am up to my elbows in dirty diapers, but I hope to get back at it with a session on the trainer on Friday, and another deathly spin class on Sunday. I really hope to turn things up a notch to make my daughter proud.

In the meantime, somehow, I have convinced Aaron to train twice as hard this past week on my behalf. He is doing it. He has actually lost 11 pounds in the last five days.

That's right. He is going to be a doctor. Ahem.

If you haven't already had a chance to donate to my ride, please consider doing so by clicking on the link to the right of screen. Later.

Sofia

Guess who showed up on her due date?

Give me a couple of days, I will tell you about it...

Need sleep now...ciao.

Spin Class

My work out regiment has essentially been one or two visits to the gym with Aaron, and one or two sessions on my indoor bicycle trainer. That sounds like a lot, but it has been relatively inconsistent from week to week. After much coercion, Aaron and his wife finally convinced me that I needed to give spinning class a chance. Did it this past Sunday morning. And despite a couple of shocks from a defibrillator and an EKG test, I seemed to have survived, and am resting comfortably.

Just kidding.

My journey actually began on Saturday night. After my wife was already asleep, I went over to her side of the bed, slowly lifted the duvet, and had a heart-to-heart with my child.

"Look kid," I said softly. "I have committed myself to go to a spin class in the morning, and I really don't want to do it. At this point, the only thing that is going to save me if for you to make a break for it, ummm, so to speak. So please, do your Dad a solid tonight, huh?"

Not even born, already rebelling. He/she is hereby grounded for the next month.

I nervously walked into the class that Aaron had already signed us up for. I resisted the urge to introduce myself to the instructor to ensure he had some sort of liability insurance, and instead gave Aaron a list of allergies and pre-existing medical conditions to give to the medics when they got there.

If you have never been to a spin class before, it starts with a nice instructor leading the group in a few stretches while they are warming up on their machines. Soon thereafter, the instructor turns into a vampire. But not the kind that sucks your blood. Oh no. Worse. The kind that inflict great pain and humiliation, and strip you of your soul. Sprint! Climb! Lean forward! Sprint! Climb! DIE! DIE! DIE!!!

My thoughts:

9:03 - These stretches are easy. Nice to losen up.
9:07 - This isn't so bad.
9:12 - Working up a good sweat. Should have agreed to do this a long time ago.
9:18 - Thighs are starting to burn. This is great! I feel awesome. I could go all day. I wonder if there is a prize for being the first to finish all 200km in June...
9:26 - Strange...its starting to get a little hot in here. Maybe the furnace is broken...
9:31 - I think I broke the machine. The tension seems to be getting higher on its own.
9:34 - OH MY GOD! I WANT TO DIE! WHY AM I DOING THIS? WHY DID I LISTEN TO AARON? LOOK AT HIM OVER THERE! HE IS SO SMUG! LOOKS LIKE HE IS STROLLING THROUGH CENTRAL PARK ON A SUNNY AFTEROON! I HATE HIM AND HIS BEARD! WHY IS HE TORTURING ME? I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS! I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE IT TO MY 32ND BIRTHDAY! WHY DO HUMANS DO THIS TO THEMSELVES? I AM SEEING SPOTS IN FRONT OF MY EYES! I CAN'T BREATH! WHATS FOR LUNCH? AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

And so on for the next twenty minutes before we start stretching again.

Had to be the most physically demanding thing I have ever done. I felt nauseous at least twice, and it took me 15 minutes to get up one flight of stairs when I got home. But it was worth it. I can't imagine I have ever burned 450 calories in one hour before. We are going to try going every week for now, and maybe at some point up to twice a week.

I don't think it is going to get any easier for the next few weeks, but maybe it will at some point. Just in case, I will be sure to bring a cross and some holy water to each class. And I want the instructor to know that I am more than willing to sacrifice Aaron. Sorry dude, sometimes you have to make tough decisions.

Later.

My wife

As I mentioned before, my wife and I are expecting our first child any day now. Someone at work today asked me if I was nervous about the birth, and about being a dad.

A little.

I tend to be a bit of a worry wart (see: understatement). And I think everyone is a little anxious when they are about to become a parent for the first time. I was super nervous for the first few months of the pregnancy. But today I realized I am far more nervous about the 200 km ride then I am about the birth. And it felt good.

For this, I have to credit my wife. Pregnancy isn't always a picnic for women, and despite little sleep, great discomfort, and an idiosyncratic husband, she has been a rock. Always positive, always supportive, she is a role model for me, and for everyone. Her confidence in me, and her, has carried both of us. She was built to be a great mother, just the same as she is a great wife. And on the third anniversary of our Islamic wedding, and on the eve of tenth anniversary of the first time we met at a Sloan concert at LuLu's in Waterloo, she is clearly the best thing to ever happen to me.

This also accentuates how poorly my training partner Aaron is doing in helping me mentally prepare for the ride. Why do I have a feeling he is going to take off on me about 3km in?

Good thing he isn't my wife.

And so it begins...

The last time I can remember being in decent physical shape was when I was six years old. My parents still have my tee ball team picture from the summer of 1985 (also the year of the Toronto Blue Jays won their first American League East pennant), as part of the Bramalea Boys Minor Softball Association. I must say, I look rather svelt.

It was about then that I got sucked into a fierce, loving, yet destructive love triangle with food and television. Well, lets just say its been downhill from there.

In the last few years, I have made a couple attempts at getting into shape. Four years ago, with encouragement from my brother, I tried my hand at hockey. Of course, having never skated before, I was doomed. The only thing I got really good at in the three years that I played was ploughing full speed into the boards, face first.

A few of our friends have taken to triathalons in the last couple of years. Stupid me thought with a little practise in the pool, I could at least make an effort to complete a tri-tri (which is essentially a mini-triathalon). A while back, I took up swimming lessons too, primarily to impress my girlfriend (now my wife), so I had the technique down. I joined the Oakville YMCA, and every week was out there in my goggles, nose plug, and flippers. Unfortunately, going swimming with more equipement than a football player proved futile. I learned that my feet appear to have cinder blocks attached to them, resulting in the distinct ability to swim precisely three-quarters of one pool length before hyperventilating. Good thing she married me when she did.

Alas, here I am at the turn of a new decade, and with a new get-in-shape scheme. I can count on both hands the number of times I have been on a bicycle since I was 15 years old. Surely, that is enough to ride 200km in two days, right? After constant nagging from my friend Peter, I signed up to do the Ride to Conquor Cancer, a two-day bike ride covering 200km from Toronto, to Milton, to Hamilton, and across the escarpment to Niagara. Cancer has affected all of our lives in some form or another, and the Princess Margaret Hospital Foundation is a great cause.

I am doing the ride with my friend Aaron. We both live in Oakville, and have copious amounts of body hair. That is where the similarities end. He is a tall, pencil thin, med student, that will ride 50km before breakfast, and run a half-marathon after lunch. I am a short, pudgy, management consultant, that is out of breath after brushing his teeth.

The next six months are going to be full of intense training, and to make things a little more interesting, my lovely wife and I expecting our first child in the next two weeks. I have decided to document my ride preparation in this blog for your amusement. This is the second blog I have decided to write. The first one was supposed to be with my friend Armen, about all things pop culture. It lasted long enough for me to set up the blog site and to write half a paragraph on why Joey and Pasey belonged together.

Hopefully, this one will last a little longer. Please bookmark this site, and check in every few days for an update on our progress. Ciao.