Save the Hero

I’ve always been a big believer in picking oneself up after a tough time, brushing oneself off and moving forward. 

It’s why I keep applying at newspapers. It’s why I ask for feedback about articles. It’s why I thank people for criticism and try to grow. Even if life knocks me on my ass, I can come out of it stronger. 

Sometimes that includes when I literally fall on my ass. 

For those of you that are new to the party, I love me some crossfit. I’ve been training and preparing for the 2017 Crossfit Open. It’ll start this week and I’ll get to push myself and really focus on getting stronger. I’ll also get to know my fellow gym members. It’s gonna be great. 


But sometimes I get cocky. I think I’m more bad ass than I am and then bad things happen. This past week, we were practicing our chest to bar pull ups. I was feeling so bad ass, finally having mastered my beat swings. I was improving and I decided that I must be ready and instead of going up, I fell down,  flat on my ass. Instead of achieving my first pull up, I sustained a bruised and slightly fractured tailbone (but I DID scale that WOD AND FINISH IT. Yup, finished the workout with a mangled back. Be proud). Fortunately, my gym peeps are super cool, so my ego wasn’t fractured as well as my tailbone. Everyone was really quick to ask me how I was, even checking in the next day. I missed the brutal birthday WOD & was so disappointed, but I can’t lift when I can’t stand. Or sit. Or function. Doctor said sit out for six weeks,  & no standing for long periods of time, but I heard “with lots of yoga, you’ll be training again on Tuesday!” I’ve worked too hard to get Open ready, I am not missing it because of a (literal) pain in the ass.


Life doesn’t stop because you have an ouchie. I can’t take time off from work. I have to get everything ready for my transfer to my new mall, conviently located much closer to my house. I can’t stop training because I’m a little sore. I can’t not take the kids to the WWE Live event I bought them tickets for on my one day off this month because I’m sore. That’s not how life works. You gotta keep doing your thing, even if you feel like a pile of shit. 

I also learned that I am literally the only person who loves the Vaudevillians.

Part of self improvement means you’re gonna get knocked down a peg a time or two. You’re gonna have a shitty run. You’re gonna have a crap workout. Or, you’re going to literally fall on your ass. But you can always tell the people who are gonna succeed; they get back up. I could have just sat out the WOD, gone home, and decided that even though I’ve been doing it for two years, crossfit is too hard. But I thought about all of my fitness role models. Trish Stratus didn’t let a herniated disc in her back stop her from living an active life. She used yoga and homeopathy to get better. Nikki Bella didn’t let a broken neck stop her, she recovered, adjusted her style,  and got back in the ring. No one succeeds by staying down. So I got up, dusted myself off, and plugged along. 


You don’t just throw in the towel because you tried something once and it didn’t work. You get up and try again. If JK Rowling got rejected 12 times before a publisher accepted Harry Potter, then I can pitch a story to another newspaper, I can attempt that pull up. I can put together the project my boss tasked me with. I can continue to apply for media jobs and learn from each experience until I accomplish the goal. 

So, while I may not break any records, I’ll be going into the Crossfit Open, broken ass and all. I may feel like shit, but I’ll feel accomplished, not to mention I’ll have all of my rad Crossfit CCA peeps kicking ass with me. And I’ll continue to work on my various projects, and towards helping my new staff at my shiny new location, because life doesn’t stop, no matter how much you’re hurting. All you can do is press forward and reach your physical and professional goals. 

Shape of You

Let me tell you the story of MHC’s terrible, awful, no good, very bad day. 

Actually, it’s probably been about a month of terrible, no good, very bad, but let’s focus on today. 

Today, I woke up, fully planned to kick today’s ass. I really did. I had my game face on, I was excited. Truthfully, despite some personal setbacks, I’ve been super jazzed about life. I’ve been writing some really great articles. I’ve been pitching some awesome stories. I’m currently working on something I’m really excited to share with the community. I’ve been transferred to another location as part of a business restructuring and I’ll be starting at my new store in March. It’s closer to my house and the girls’ school. And then I’m treating myself to a week’s staycation to rest and recharge from my crazy February schedule. I’ve been enjoying the gym. It’s been awesome. 

Which brings me to today. 

Today my kid had an epic tantrum. Like EPIC. I left for work feeling a shitty mom, a shitty neighbour, and a shitty human being. I spent all day in kind of a funk because I felt like the WORST MOM EVER. I work so damn much to keep us fed and clothed that I feel like I’m not giving enough time to them. I mean, I pay someone to clean my house now because I want it done and I have no time. Then they act out sometimes because they are kids & kids do that sometimes. And sometimes I yell back because moms yell sometimes. And in the end, I just feel like an asshole. 

Sometimes I get caught up in the social media trap. I see everyone’s seemingly perfect kids and lives and no one worries about money, their kids always behave and everyone’s house is immaculate and I think “why can’t I be that person? Why am I not the person with the dream job and the perfect car and kids who never ever talk back?” Sometimes I just feel like I can’t measure up. I’ll always be white trash trying to make good. My self esteem takes a hit and I just feel awful. Good moms balance. They do it all right. No mistakes ever. Not like me, who just keeps fucking it all up. 

Then I come home, lay in my tub, do some yoga, and recognize that this is total bullshit. 

Everyone has a bad week or month. Everyone has one of those days where they took a time out to bawl their eyes out because they are so burned out and feel like they handled it all wrong and sit up late at night thinking they are a horrible parent/partner/friend. But if you keep thinking really positively and focus on the good things while making changes, you’ll make it through. 

Today, I was lucky enough to have my friend Paul call me to help me feel better. Bad days happen. Shake it off. Another friend texted me a positive affirmation. My best friend Melissa texted me positive Seth Rollins memes because she gets me. But when I asked each of them why I was failing as a mom, they all reminded me of a time that they did not win parenting. Or housekeeping. Or relationships. Or jobs. It’s easy to feel like you won’t measure up when you’re constantly comparing yourself to invisible competition and FB highlight reels. But I’m not failing as a mom. Or a person. It was just one no good, very bad day. 

When I feel like the world is gonna crush me, I immediately think of everything good that has happened, big or small (a trick I learned from Katniss Everdeen). I think of the nice ladies at Hudson Bay who gave great customer service. I think of the feel good story I found on Reddit. I think about the cool things my kids do. I think about how much I’ve improved at the gym. How rad my friends are. And suddenly, I don’t feel like my life is garbage anymore. 


There’s no instruction manual on how to juggle single parenting, career, home, and being a decent human being. Sometimes I’ll get it right. Sometimes I won’t. But I can’t spend my days beating myself up about the days that I don’t. If I do, I’ll never have any good days. So, the next time there is a no good, very bad day, I’ll take thirty seconds to remember that I’m not competing with the highlight reels, it’s okay to not know how to handle everything and sometimes you just need to learn on the fly and forgive yourself if you didn’t do it right and learn for next time. 

Everything Is Easy

You ever have one of those nights where you’re tired af but your brain is like:

“Hey, member Third Eye Blind? They were fucking rad. You should listen to their entire discography at 1am. That’s SUCH A GOOD IDEA.”


(If this has never happened to you, then I’m sorry, but what kind of freak are you, just falling asleep the minute you go to bed without incident. Teach me your ways)

Truthfully, I’m probably wide awake because I ate a bunch of shit food to ring in the new year. I planned to avoid shit food because I’m working to cut some weight before the Crossfit Open. I couldn’t enter last year because my hip was injured, I had the kidney infection from Hell, and I hated everyone at my gym. This year, my hip is in great shape, and I love everyone at my gym! Because I love my gym, I go there at least three times a week and I’m seeing progress. I’ve built all of my strength back (except my squats are still at a 10lbs deficit) & even hit a new PR for my power cleans, push press and hang snatch. I lift heavy things and then do a happy dance because I am actually a nerd. But after a month of eating properly again, my body rejects shit food. My Fitbit also shames me. Yeah, I have a damn Fitbit. My boss gave one to the entire leadership team. We are challenging each other while also demonstrating the value of the Fitbit to customers. I think it’s quietly judging me. But, it’s helped me come up with a great story idea about wearables and the pros and cons of them, which is awesome. 

What my best friend and I talk about
That’s the big thing for me right now, I have so many ideas on the go that I think it’s hard to shut my mind off sometimes. Before, my goals were focused. They’ve been focused for years; get an article published by a major media outlet…& I did the thing I set out to do. When I got on the plane, I had tunnel vision; get the article published. And I did it in exactly 377 days. Then I focused on getting my story idea published. And I did that. Now I’m trying to build on that while also working a day job, raising a family, and gains. I have two stories on the go right now, one of which I’m super excited about. I have a third pitch ready and I’m brainstorming a fourth. My blog rant about the wrasslin got rave reviews, including by WWE Superstars. I’m wondering if I should strike while the iron is hot and pitch a column about WWE from the female fan’s perspective. I think it’s an untapped market and it could really help me slowly transition into covering other stuff, like MMA coverage. This would diversify my portfolio to include sports writing. I’ve managed to use social media for its intended purpose and have gotten my name out there a bit (if you want to follow me on social media, click here to find out how). I’m working my ass off at my day job to get the kids the life they deserve. And I’m allowing myself my time to do MH things like visit friends and crossfit. I finally have a full life out here. But I think I get so excited about my projects and ideas (now that they aren’t centralized) that I can’t. fucking. sleep. 

My friends are adorbs
I guess I can’t complain. How lucky am I that my only problem in life is that too many awesome things are happening all at once? I’ve worked so hard and it’s all finally paying off. My girls are seeing the power of hard work; it pays off. So, I keep doing it. I keep working harder. I also try to focus on how I treat people & how much I can give back to people. I once had nothing and now (while I’m by no means rich) I have the ability to help others. I need to give that back. I need to donate, to give, to help. I need to be a good person because the world needs more of them. So, I’ll be the hardest working nice person that I can be and a role model for my littles in the hopes that I can evolve into a woman they can be proud of. 

On the start of the new year, I’m wide awake thinking of all the stories I want to write and ideas I want to share and goals I want to meet. No “new year, new me.” New year, same old MHC, same old goals;

1. Be a good mom

2. Be a good person

3. Be the best mother fucking writer I can be. 

4. Never compete with the crossfitters, only compete with yesterday’s scores until I am a bad ass. 

And maybe, to have a voiceover introduce me with “From Concord, California, comes the most stylish, elegant, bewitching, eternally beguiling, contentiously charismatic, and fantastically fascinating woman to appear in this or any arena,” whenever I walk into public places. Or not. Whatever. 

My point is that it’s kind of nice to feel successful and settled into your life. When I got here, I was so afraid that I wouldn’t make friends, find a job where I fit with the company culture, or worse, I wouldn’t succeed as a writer. I shouldn’t have worried so much, because everything came together the way it should once I started trusting my instincts and putting in the work. So, I’ll keep putting in the work and life will only get better and better. 

Oh, and PS; Third Eye Blind put out an album in 2015 called Dopamine and it’s damn good. Check it out. 

Try Everything

Welp, it’s that time of year again, where we look back at our year. I started 2016 at a restaurant, where a man & I went online and selected what was to be my engagement ring. I’m ending it standing on my own, working on an article that I pitched, and despite the odd start, it was still one of the best years of my life. 

Why? Because I was blessed with the opportunity to finally prove that I could do it on my own. I turned personal sadness into professional success. I took risks and built my portfolio up and it was rad. I made some of the most amazing friends. And most importantly, I accomplished the dream I’ve had since I was a little girl. Then I wrote something and people listened. Not just one person. Over 1000 people listened. They commented, they agreed. For the first time in my life, I felt like the journalist I’m meant to be. This was the most successful year of my professional life. I realized any monster who would build a family to abandon it with no explanation (or even a breakup) isn’t worthy of my love. So I’m content to build my empire and when a man worthy of me comes along, I’ll be ready. But most importantly, I discovered who I’m supposed to be without my friends, without a man, on my own. And I learned that the woman I’m meant to be is a writer and a leader. Someone who loves everyone. And nice. Way too fucking nice. I’m a crossfitter who loves food and I am so unapologetically proud of the woman I am. Each of these moves helped me become the happiest girl in the world. I took my life back and it was so amazing. So, it was the best year ever. 

As always, here’s a look at my year (without photos of my daughters to protect their privacy).  I hope you had the best year ever & 2017 is even better. 



Someone in St. Albert kept stealing my pink pen, so my manager gave me a bunch for my new store to make me happy. It was so silly, but it made me feel valued.



My 9yo told us her bunny hung out with PM Trudeau at Pride. We helped her out when no one believed her



I am the boss
Oh nothing. Just an article published by Postmedia
 

That time I reviewed a bunch of plays like a cool kid



Click the photo to read the article.


All hail Crossfit Jesus
Erica is always far away, but she is my human, so here’s an exerpt from our Snapchats





TBooth pro tip. Blue tastes like shit.


Still my favourite

That time Nikki Bella & I casually discussed feminism on Twitter. No big.

If you ever want to follow my zany adventures*, make sure you follow me on Snapchat (unless I’ve blocked you on Snapchat)! I’ve added my snap code below. 


*actually not zany. Largely boring 

Goodness Gracious 

Every once in awhile, I interrupt my normal adventures to mention something that really grinds my gears (I promise we’ll return to the regular format of “today I made choices that weren’t completely awful” later). 


Today’s topic: why douchebag people need to stop being douchebags about other people’s kids. 

This past week, Ryan Reynolds received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He was joined at the ceremony by his wife Blake Lively and his two daughters, James and her sister, who’s name has not been made public. The internet was delighted to see the rambunctious two year old running around and clapping. She even dropped the mic when she decided the ceremony was over. The entire display was adorable as all get out. But of course, the sanctimommies were out in full force to criticize James’s dinosaur coat, her out of control curls, her behaviour, and her name. To those people, please do shut the fuck up. 

(Before you ask why there are no photos of James and her sister accompanying this post, it’s simple. Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively have asked that their children be sheltered from the public eye as much as possible. As a parent who does not post her own children’s photos here to protect their privacy, I feel it would be inappropriate to post photos of their children. If you want to see them, you’re welcome to Google)

These horrible commenters are the very reason that Reynolds and Lively opted to shield their daughters from the public eye. They have stated repeatedly that they want James and her sister to have a normal childhood. That James & her sister did not choose a public life; their parents did. They are under no obligation to tell the public their children’s names, show you photos or justify why they named them what they did. They don’t need to justify why their daughter wore a dinosaur coat. They’re not ugly. And anyone who can spew venom at a two year old and her three month old sister needs to get some serious help. 

I can understand why people who are dissatisfied with their lives could have an issue with Ryan Reynolds or Blake Lively. Here are two attractive and successful people who have found a great love and have a lovely family. But that’s no reason to project your bitterness onto them. I read such classy comments that the pair must have wanted boys, look at the “boy clothes” they were dressed in and James’s name. First of all; James was in a dress. Hardly “boy” clothes. Secondly, there are no boy or girl clothes, just clothes. And most importantly, Reynolds named his daughter for his beloved father, who passed away shortly before her birth. And even if Reynolds & Lively named their kid Princess Banana Nut Muffin, it is none of your damn business what Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively named their kids. 

Let’s all say it together; IT IS NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS WHAT RYAN REYNOLDS OR BLAKE LIVELY NAME OR HOW THEY DRESS THEIR KIDS. 


I love pop culture, but kids should be off limits. Paparazzi shouldn’t photograph celebrity kids. If celebrities choose to post photos of their kids on social media, and you must comment, leave the same comment that you would leave on a friend or family member’s social media page. If you can’t be nice; be quiet.  Would you tell your friend or family member that their kid has a stupid name or they were dressed poorly? Would you Shame a friend for not breastfeeding or belittle them? This happened to Kristin Cavallari and her husband Jay Cutler when she posted a family snapshot. Her choice to give her kids a vegan diet was questioned, with people accusing her of starving her kids, saying they needed a cheeseburger, etc. While I do not agree with her decision to not vaccinate her children, I respect that she is their mother and it’s her call. 

Let’s all say it together; IT IS NONE OF OUR DAMN BUSINESS WHAT KRISTIN CAVALLARI AND JAY CUTLER FEED THEIR CHILDREN. 


Kids didn’t choose to be in the public eye. They are not “fair game” because their parents are famous. This argument was common online when WWE Universal Champion Kevin Owens’s wife Karina was forced to delete her Instagram account because bullies insulted her son Owen & daughter Elodie. They used the justification that since Owens is a bad guy on TV and uses his social media in character, that it was “fair” to insult his eight year old son and two year old daughter and harrass his wife. Karina is not famous. She lives a quiet life with her family in Quebec. She didn’t deserve the abuse. That would be like someone insulting you because your husband got drunk at a family gathering and pissed them off. Isn’t that stupid?

Let’s all say it together; YOU DO NOT GET TO INSULT KEVIN OWENS’S FAMILY BECAUSE HE BLOCKED YOU ON TWITTER. 


I know celebrities seem larger than life, but they’re people too. They love their families. They want the best for their kids just like you or me. Ryan Reynolds doesn’t owe you access to his kids (so you can call them ugly) because you went to see Deadpool AND the Green Lantern and you watched all six seasons of Gossip Girl so Blake Lively best share every gory deta of her birth stories. They have every right to protect them from trolls and bullies, just like you would protect your family from online abuse & mean strangers. 


So, the next time you feel the need to question a famous person’s parenting, ask yourself how you would feel if someone did it to you, because I bet someone has and it super pissed you off. I always tell people that the world would be an infinitely more wonderful place if we practiced the lost art of not being an asshole. Let’s try not being an asshole. 

False Alarm

Let me tell you a story. 

I have an online dating account. I’ve had it forever. I used to use it to troll creepers. Now I use it to (kind of) try to meet people. I’ve been getting to know the guy we’ll call the stage five clingy soldier for awhile now, but that’s a story for another day, when I feel like talking about my love life. I got kind of burned so I leave my relationships out of my blogging life. 

Anywho, back to the actual story. Most of my adventures in online dating look a lot like this: 


Or this 


Or this

Or this 


My personality is rather snarky on a good day & my guard is up after being led down the yellow brick road and left alone in the woods to find my way home alone, but again, another story for another day. But I can be polite too. However, today’s story involves a man I said no to, & why some women struggle to say no. 

See, I said no to a guy awhile back. Then he mocked my career. So I questioned his being self employed. After some harassment, I blocked him. Tonight, I was met with him (on a new account) seeking me out and sending this gem. 


This is just part of it. There’s a bunch more, including threats to ruin my career, etc. All because I told a guy no. 

Sadly, this is a harsh reality women face when they are dating. No can turn into a dangerous situation (here’s a link to a story about 14 other women who found themselves in far more dangerous situations). People ask why women don’t say no/stay with their abusers/go back to their narcissistic exes, well here’s why.  No can be dangerous. No can lead to violence. Smear campaigns. Verbal abuse. All because we said no. 

The end of my story is simple. I told the guy off, blocked him and laughed about  it on Twitter. But for a lot of women, that’s not an option. They’re stalked. They’re harassed. Bullied. And people defend this behaviour. So I decided to share this story as a harsh reminder of the realities that women face when they say no. Not all men do this stuff, but all women have a story like this one. Whether it’s a catcall, a stranger telling her to smile, or the guy who follows her down the street, every woman has a story about a man who didn’t take no for an answer. So, before you say “not all guys are like this” or “why don’t women say something,” take a moment and remember that this is why. 

I hope the take away from this story is that threatening to ruin a woman professionally isn’t the way to her heart. Also, that apparently editors are very wealthy. I didn’t know this. When I was an editor, wealthy was not the word I would have used (unless he has pictures of Spider-Man. Maybe that’s why he’s rich?). Perhaps try tact. Or not being a raging doucher. I know, strange concept, but try it, it might work!

How Far I’ll Go

Sometimes, I think the universe kind of likes me. 

Last week, I was met with some disappointment at work. I was feeling depressed, despondent, and ready to peace out of this place (okay not really. Moving is expensive and I’m too lazy for that shit). 

But I felt like I sucked at my job. I felt under appreciated and seriously contemplated getting hammered in my bathtub and crying like a little bitch. 


But before I went to the liquor store to buy the booze required to get drunk in the bathtub, I got a lovely Facebook message from a lovely young woman named Rachel Woznow. I wrote an article about her last year. She’s a beautiful and talented woman and you should probably buy her song Firestorm on iTunes (I listen to it when I go running). But she told me she’s been following my career and my life through my blog and she was inspired by my journey to finally become the reporter I was meant to be. I cried. In the moment where I felt least valued professionally, a random message popped up telling me that someone thought that I talent and deserved to go far. 

courtesy: rachelwoznow.com

Next came an email from a publisher in rural Alberta suggesting that I apply for a temporary contract position with their newspaper! Had I known how to drive, I would have jumped all over that. But alas, I’ve had to wait until the new year to learn to drive because driver’s ed costs money & requires time and I pretty much live at my store. Hachem did offer to teach me, but he’s busier than I am (& also a pain in the ass and would likely piss me off more than anything else), and I don’t like asking people for help with stuff because I’m a boss ass bitch who does it for herself. But I figure six months is enough to learn to drive before my road test. It won’t be THAT hard, right?

Regardless, once again, the universe reminded me that I am where I’m meant to be. I’m meant to be here, writing articles and creating interesting stories. I’m meant to be here, with my good friends and my girls. If I keep working hard & building my portfolio (and possibly bribe the editor of the Journal with delicious baked goods), I’ll finally get to where I want to be. No matter how hard things get, the universe will remind you that you’re in the right place and on the right track (& maybe kick your ass to learn to drive a car). 

I guess it’s all about outlook. My day job had to potential to be a disaster, but I went in to this new development with a positive attitude and a determination to learn. I’ve gained a lot of positive feedback from my peers, but more importantly, an ally in the workplace and a great new friend (seriously she’s so awesome). I may not always feel like people are reading my work or care, but obviously someone is and they kind of dig it. And the only person holding me back from success is me & my lack of driving skills…and car. But if you go into life or a situation feeling like shit and claiming it’s all doom and gloom, you’ll never get anything out of it. Even when things are super shitty, there’s an opportunity to make it not shitty. You’ve just gotta allow yourself that time to feel your anger, sadness, etc. And then listen to the world around you. It’ll let you know if you’re on the right track. 


As for me, I’ll keep going down my path, which doesn’t have much of a path. It’s more of a jungle that I have to navigate through. But it’s my path & mine alone and I’m excited to see where it’ll take me. 

The Divine Zero

Despite my fascination with pop culture, I must admit I do not keep up with the Kardashians, mostly because everything they say and everything they do annoys the shit out of me. 


From Kim’s baby talk to Kris’s whining, whenever I see them on social media or TV, I immediately flip to something else. If I had to pick one that didn’t annoy me to no end, it would probably be Kendall, as she at least to have a job of some kind, as well as some talent or a skill (modelling is a skill). I feel like Kendall may also be smart. The rare times that I hear them speak, she seems to be the only one that has her shit together. So, good for Kendall. 

I googled “Kendall Jenner” and saw lots of pics, but this one stuck out. She looks so fresh faced and lovely

Now that I’ve made it clear that I don’t keep up with Kardashians, I am also late to the party when it comes to their “projects.” I casually flipped over to People Magazine’s website to read the gossip (because celeb gossip is my guilty pleasure, fight me) and I discovered that Khloe Kardashian has a show called “Revenge Body!” Basically Khloe plucks people from obscurity to teach them health and fitness tricks so they can get a slamming body to get back at an ex boyfriend, mean parent, or childhood bully. Wait till they see how HOT YOU ARE?! THAT WILL TEACH THEM!

What. The. Fuck. 

As a someone who worked to lose a ton of weight, gained some of it back and am working to lose it again, it must sound weird that I’m saying this show’s concept sounds bloody God awful. Well, here’s why. The concept of a “revenge body” is fucking stupid. Do you really think a shitty ex boyfriend is gonna magically say “I shouldn’t have been the shittiest boyfriend ever because she has a fantastic squat ass!” No. He’s probably playing house with the girl he was cheating on you with while you were trying to save the relationship or on Tinder swiping right. You shouldn’t give a shit about what that guy thinks. Or your high school bully. Or your douchebag dad. Why? Because not a single one of these people matter in your life. “Shamers” are not real. Words only have power over you if you allow them to. And besides, by losing weight to “shut them up,” they’ve won! They made you feel badly until you changed! Don’t be that person. Change to grow. 


When I chose to get healthy, I chose this to be a role model to my girls and for me. Not the shitty ex husband who abused me. Not the shitty ex boyfriend who treated me like shit and abandoned me. Not the shitty guy who lied about getting a colonoscopy to go out with another girl. Not the asshole coworker who shit talked me when I left the room. Not the girl who bullied me in grade nine math so much that I refused to try out for basketball because she made me feel badly. Why? Because these people are irrelevant. They are simply chapters in my life that I’ve closed. I wanted to get in shape for me. I wanted to live longer. I wanted to look cute in leggings. I wanted to feel more confident. I wanted to be the best MHC ever so that I was happy with me. But it was my choice for me & I want everyone in life to be confident in their choices for themselves. When you need revenge, you are letting someone else take up space in your mind. Every second you waste on them is a second that you could be loving yourself. Why waste those seconds on shitty people who treat you badly when you could use them on yourself!

Still a work in progress, but always progress

Maybe I’m totally off base, and Khloe Kardashian is helping these people let go of their painful pasts and focus on their incredible futures, but the promo shows people announcing who they’re getting “revenge” on. But from one human to another, the best revenge is letting go, moving on, and investing in you, for you. You don’t need revenge. You need to love yourself enough to invest in yourself. Because if you do it for revenge, once you get the killer body, you’re still empty. They still treated you badly. You didn’t get back at them, or get them back. Chances are you don’t really want them back because they are sucky people! The shamers won’t be impressed. Instead, they’ll piss on you for something else. Then you’ll go right back to your destructive, unhealthy habits because nothing changed. You need to change. Change your habits and your mindset so that you can be better for yourself. When you do that, you’d be surprised at how far you’ll come. 


Khloe herself admits she started working out to stop people from calling her the fat & ugly sister and stick it to them. That’s so sad. She’s a beautiful woman and while I don’t keep up with her or her family, I believe everyone is good somewhere. She’s a sister, aunt, friend and tried very hard to make a toxic marriage work. I’m sure she’s a lovely person. I just hope she’s found better motivation.  Maybe she’s learned to love herself. But I’d hate to think that with all of her success, loving family, wealth and the like, she’s letting faceless internet trolls or the ghosts of husbands past rent space in her mind.

So, screw the idea of the revenge body. How about we focus on healthy bodies, healthy minds, and healthy hearts?! I’m gonna keep working on mine. I hope you work on yours too, but because you want to, not to stick it to someone else. 

Gold Medal Ribbon

I’ve always said that the true test of a person’s character is during times of disappointment. 

It’s easy to be humble and grateful when everything kicks ass, but what about when things are hard and kind of sucky? That’s what separates the successful people from the bitter bitches. 

This week I suffered a minor workplace disappointment. I’ve been in way over my head and my boss called me on it. Fortunately, I work for an amazing company that wants their employees to succeed, grow. So, together, we found a solution to help my store grow and me thrive. Work disappointments hurt the ego, but ego isn’t important. What’s truly important is that the collective succeeds. I have an amazing team. I have a great group of colleagues. I want them all to succeed and I’m lucky that we came up with a solution. I’m lucky that I’m part of a company that wants to help me grow and learn. And at the end of the day, that’s what matters. 


I could be one of those bitter bitches and blame my struggles on lack of training, or my boss is mean (he’s not) or some other bullshit. But lack of accountability makes you a bitter bitch. I am not a bitter bitch. Bitter bitches never grow. I see hard times as an opportunity to grow and evolve. So, I’m going to take the negative and turn it into a positive and use it to learn and grow from it. After all, that’s the keys to success, right?

I think the most important thing a person can do is accept disappointment with humility, with poise, dignity, and an open mind. No one grows if they just dig in their heels and stubbornly refuses to accept that maybe they need help to get to where they need to be. It takes just as much effort to be optimistic as it does bitter. But one gets you further in life. 

So, I’ll continue to focus on the positives and work harder to become better, both professionally and personally. When you fight setbacks, you fight growth, and I always want to grow. 

Today I Saw The Whole World

I swear, I didn’t die. 

I know I kind of fell off of the blogosphere for a bit, but I was really busy listening to Pierce the Veil. 

More importantly, I was hyper focused on work. Between my store commitments and the articles that I receive money for, my focus was on the jobs that pay me. At my day job, I was taking several recruiting and training classes, so I can hire better people and train them to become successful. I was also working on several articles, including this piece, which was a top news story for Edmonton Prime Times. I’m also working on a mental health article that means a lot to me. 

Oh, and I was learning to twerk. 

I literally cannot tell this human anything

Nope, didn’t make that shit up. 


I’ve been researching an article for one of the magazines I’m working with, an article about alternative forms of fitness. The form was dance. So, I took some classes! First of all, as someone who hasn’t been as fitness focused as she used to be, and has only been attending regular workouts (aside from running) for the last six weeks, I was nervous enough, but I’m also a power lifter. I train for strength. How hard could dance be?

Spoiler alert; really fucking hard. 

As the tiny human (who is incredible) led me through the movements, I learned that A) this is a really effective workout & B) that I am too white and too awkward to ever twerk, or move in any way that could ever be viewed as sexy. My abs really hurt and my thighs were on fire. I certainly burned a lot of calories and also discovered a whole new level of shame by attempting to twerk. My ass jiggles, but never in time with music or in a way that is sexy. Everyone else rolls their hips and looks sexy af. Me? I awkwardly rock back and forth while praying for a meteor to kill me. Now let us never speak of this ridiculousness ever again (except to read about it in the January issue of YEG Fitness). 

I wanted to try as many styles as possible, so next, I moved on to pole dancing. My best friend was a dancer for years and often talked about the strength and intensity required to pole dance. I laughed at her, because I’m mean. But it honestly does require a lot of hard ass work. My legs were battered and bruised after that class, but I left feeling so empowered. Here was a group of women cheering each other on and working hard and also embracing their own sexuality. It’s super cool and every Wednesday, I’ll be attending pole class, as I’ve decided that I’ll be the pole dancing, crossfitting, article writing Queen of Telecommunications. A year ago, I was afraid to pitch an idea to one magazine. Now, I’m confident in my talents and abilities. None of those abilities involve twerking. 


I am not a good pole dancer. But I wasn’t a good crossfitter when I started. But I trained and got better. But I learned the environment helps too. The women I train with are super bad ass. This helped me realize that I hated the gym I have gone to for a year, but kept going to because I felt like it was me, I just was a bad athlete and didn’t fit in. But I realized that I pay to go there and if I’m not happy, I need to find a gym that makes me happy. And I found one. Smaller classes, engaged coaches, and programs designed to see progress. I freaking love it and my new fellow athletes. It’s been a great switch and I would definitely recommend my new gym to anyone looking to get stronger. 

Make sure you are following my ridiculous adventures on Snapchat (ASHMHC) unless I have blocked you on Snapchat

It’s been nice to get back to me, the happiest MHC. The happiest MHC needs to be working towards goals and growing into a better woman. Taking risks, trying new things, new adventures. The happiest MHC loves fitness and wants to get stronger, setting those PR’s, like the one I just set for power clean (90lbs!). I need to be pitching ideas and seeing them come to life. That’s who I want to be. And that’s who I’ve become again and it’s so rad. I’d rather take the risk than never try. So, I keep taking the risks. Sometimes, it goes horribly wrong (like trying to twerk). Others, I discover something new about myself or a skill I’d like to try. But either way, it makes me a better woman & a better role model for my girls, as they are learning to take risks and find themselves, and not let anyone else tell them who or what they are supposed to be. 


So, go out there and try the new thing. Go on the adventure. Move across the country to become successful. But don’t be afraid to do it your way, on your terms and on your own. Even if it all goes to Hell, you’ll have learned and come out stronger, which will only make you better.