I’m a great talker, always have been, my parents used to tease me for talking their ears off, they’d tell me to go outside and take a breath (I’m pretty sure they needed a breather from my nattering too). I love talking so much, I even entered a business where I needed the gift of the gab to get the story. And yet, when it comes to big crowds, when it comes to me standing before a class of 10, 20, 30 students (regardless of age), in front of a video camera destined for the world, and even a small wedding audience consisting of my nearest and dearest – I freak out. My hands shake, my voice quivers, my body goes into full-on sweats.
Presentation speaking is NOT my thing.
This week, however, I tried to quash those fears with a presentation to a mass communications class at the University of the Fraser Valley. The professor, a friend of mine, who we will call TV Prof (seriously, he’s a TV prof!!!) approached me last year requesting I talk to his students. I tried getting out of it, and I thought I had the perfect excuse by having Little Ring right around the time he wanted me to speak, but dammit all to hell, it seems the guy teaches the same class every semester. I tried telling him I suck at public speaking. I tried telling him about the flip book you could make of all the faces I produced in my wedding speech. I tried telling him about how “uhm” takes over my usually awesome vocabulary, being inserted into every second breath of a sentence. But that only encouraged him more.
Just a sampling of my flipbook!
And then, he gave me a topic I just couldn’t refuse: The demise of journalism.
And so, on Monday afternoon, I stood before that class for about an hour (that felt more like 10!). My eyes twitched. My shirt went from dry to soaked. And my voice shook uncontrollably as I read from a script of talking points. I relaxed somewhat when I wandered off into tangents, which anyone who knows me knows I’m akin to do, and during the Q&A portion at the end, I almost forgot I was presenting – answering those questions from the depths of my journalistic heart.
I told them about my long-lasting love for the craft of journalism, how I had always felt I was destined for this career, how I loved getting into the heads of my subjects, hearing their stories and retelling those stories through the written word. And then I slapped them – and their dreams – in their faces with the reality of the news business, going into great detail about how the powers that be are doing everything in their means (knowing or not) to kill this business. I told them love isn’t enough to keep me going. I told them that I, like many others in my position, am working hard at getting out of this business I once called a dream.
Yeah, I’m a bit of a killjoy 😉
And with that, my friends, I share with you that as of this week I am one step closer to becoming a fancy schmancy dietitian! All the upgrading I’ve been working on is now officially complete. The final course, Chemistry 12 (my nemesis!) was completed two weeks ago, and I got my grades this week, finishing with a respectable 86 per cent!!! Holy smarty pants!!! And now, it’s off to real university courses for me – wahoo!!!
- 3:30 p.m. BG before: 5.9
- Temp. basal: none (3 crackers and peanut butter (20 grams carbs) no bolus)
- Distance: 5.25 km – 5 minutes warmup/20 minutes tempo/5 minutes cool down
- Time: 30:57
- Total average pace: 5:54 min/km
- Tempo average pace: 5:41 min/km
- 4:30 p.m. BG after: 5.4
A much deserved post-run Kombucha; 14 grams carbs.
This was supposed to be a tempo run with me averaging a 5:30 min/km or faster speed. And I thought, despite my legs feeling heavy and fatigued in the five-minute warmup, that I was killing it for the first half of the tempo pace… that is, until I turned around at the half-way point and was suddenly faced with a thick wall of wind. Damn you homeward bound wind, damn you!
First shorts run of the season… and yes, I know I have Casper white legs thank you very much 😀
Wishing you all a super duper Easter weekend!