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We’ve all been there… Our week is a bit long, we’ve pushed ourselves a bit too hard and we suddenly find ourselves with a night where we get back home and all one wants to do is crash and hit the pillow. I had just such a night recently. I got home from work and was utterly exhausted. I muddled my way through supper and did my usual dishes and chores before flopping down on the couch and wishing for death. not literally, mind you. But the thought of just closing my eyes and drifting off seemed pretty blissful in that moment. Luckily, we were able to get the boys down for bed relatively early and I ended up crashing myself. I slept for roughly twelve hours, despite repeated alerts from my pump and my reservoir hitting zero units.

I woke up the next morning to a quiet house and made a move towards the first caffeine of the day. I couldn’t help but notice that I still felt utterly exhausted, which may be an issue in and of itself. That might be something that I need to look into, at some point but considering I slept several HOURS beyond what I usually would, it got me to thinking about all the times I chose to nap on the weekends and how it always made me feel more tired than when I first fell asleep. It raises an important question; can one sleep TOO much? The easy answer would obviously be yes, but how far does that answer go?

According to an online article posted by the Sleep Foundation, “Oversleeping, or long sleeping, is defined as sleeping more than nine hours in a 24-hour period.” By that definition, what I did last week certainly falls under this definition as I slept for three hours beyond that threshold. The article goes on to explain that even though there are valid reasons one might oversleep, such as fighting off an illness, but sleeping more than seven to nine hours in any given night can have some negative effects on one’s health, as well.

According to WebMD, oversleeping can lead to a number of conditions including but not limited to obesity, headaches, back pain, depression and heart disease. The article also suggests that oversleeping can leave one open to the risk of developing Diabetes. Although I assume they’re referring to Type-2, it’s kind of nice to read an article where something may cause Diabetes instead of Diabetes BEING the cause. The article also suggests that people who consistently oversleep have a higher death rate than those who do not.

Ultimately, if you find yourself consistently oversleeping, you may want to consider talking to a doctor about it. There may be outlying conditions that cause you to oversleep. Obviously, there are inherent problems with oversleeping if you have Type-1 Diabetes. You may miss a meal, forget to test your blood sugar or like me, have your pump run on empty while you’re still slumbering, causing an increased spike in your blood sugars. Like everything else, it’s important keep a tight control on one’s Diabetes, even during the hours you sleep. ☯️

Today is always a bit of a bittersweet day for me. It’s my older brother’s birthday. Born on December 3, 1972, he was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease from birth. His kidneys failed soon thereafter and he was the recipient of donor kidney when he was a toddler. He was diagnosed with epilepsy, heart conditions and Fanconi Syndrome, which likely contributed to his kidney failure. His replacement kidney, which wasn’t supposed to last more than five years, lasted until the age of 18. A veritable walking miracle, he continues to be a source of inspiration and the example to follow, even in my adult years.

His love of life and love of family taught me the importance of valuing what’s important and to continue fighting, no matter how dark or bleak the outcome may appear. He continued to fight his illnesses and always kept a smile on his face, always ready with a hug or an “I love you” for family or friends. I always admired how someone so young who literally fought death every day could have such a positive outlook on life and appreciated everything. If that isn’t the epitome of a shining human being who knows what it means to live, I don’t know what is.

Sadly, my brother passed away in April of 1991. During what had become a routine hospitalization to our family turned out to be the last time he would leave him home. Called in the middle of the night, my family and I rushed to the hospital to find my brother comatose. He passed from congestive heart failure a short time later. His death affected me in ways that even now, I haven’t consolidated. His influence and example continue to drive my day to day existence. If everyone would be a little more like my brother had been, the world would be a better place. Happy birthday, bro. You would have been 50-years old. Miss you. ☯️

There’s no shortage of imagination in today’s society but it often feels as though old ideas are being regurgitated and recycled at an alarming rate. Movies and shows that came out decades ago are being brought back into the light with a modern look, modern actors and modern twists. And sometimes that can be super fun. Other times, it falls short on expectations and leaves the viewer disappointed.

For example, I’ve always been a great fan of classic 70’s and 80’s slasher movies. For example the Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street series were fantastic and delivered exactly what one would expect: a bunch of people being unrelentingly slaughtered by a supernatural killer. That’s why, when the reboots of these movies came out in 2009 and 2010 respectively, I had great expectations. Both movies fell short.

Sometimes, a remake or reboot can reignite the imagination. Man of Steel was absolutely fantastic and I enjoyed the fact that they focused a great deal of the beginning on the planet Krypton and how Superman actually became, well, Superman. It still doesn’t compare to 1978’s Superman: the Movie with Christopher Reeve. That movie taught me a man can fly! But the reboot did the legend and the genre justice. I especially enjoyed how the Man of Steel didn’t have an all-powerful Superman who was unstoppable. There were several instances where the titular character gets thrown around, showing at least some augury of vulnerability.

That brings us to The Matrix. For those who aren’t familiar, The Matrix is a science fiction movie that came out in 1999, which seems like an eternity ago. The premise is that everyone lives inside a virtual reality environment controlled by machines that have enslaved humanity. The protagonist is freed from the machine environment and revealed to be a chosen “One” who has the ability to manipulate the virtual reality environment. It was a fantastic movie and still holds up. It generated two sequels, which weren’t QUITE as fun as the original but still good.

That’s why I was SUPER excited to hear that a somewhat reboot was being released last year. The Matrix: Resurrections. Despite the pandemic delaying and slowing down certain film releases, previews and hype built my excitement and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this movie. It actually ended up being one that I purchased, which is contrary to my personal policy of waiting for it to appear on one of my streaming services. When I found it a local retailer, I scooped it up. My wife and I are massive Keanu Reeves fans, so we were both looking forward to it.

When we finally got to sit down and watch it, I have to admit that the build-up was somewhat slow. And strange. Considering it’s a sci-fi movie, that’s saying something. Once we got into it, we find out that it’s 60 years into the future and the main protagonists have been “resurrected” by the machines. The storyline was sound but it fell short in its delivery. And it was a little too similar to the previous movies. This usually wouldn’t be a problem for a genuine reboot. But this was shown to be something of a continuation of what occurred after the end of Matrix: Revolutions.

All in all, it was a decent movie but certainly not worth the hype or the excitement I had at waiting for it to come out. To say I was disappointed in it might be an exaggeration. After all, there were some fight scenes and some cool set ups. But I definitely regret not waiting for it to come to a streaming service instead of buying it. First world problems, right? ☯️

I’m pretty late getting a blog post written today. That’s what happens when you waste away a cold, cloudy, autumn-like morning by laying in bed longer than you should, followed by dragging your feet at some errands before the work week starts. Luckily, once I was able to sit down in my rocker, play some daily crossword puzzles and get some caffeine into me, all was good.

Nathan and I started our day by having some breakfast (which consisted of cold pizza for me. What?! It’s the weekend…) followed by running to a local department store to grab groceries and items we would need to make it through the week. When we got home, Nathan was hungry again, which he practically always is. I fed him a snack and since the baby was in bed, my wife and I decided a cold, lazy Sunday was an appropriate time for a nap. I convinced Nathan to stay quiet for an hour so that we could lie down.

When we woke up, Nathan decided he wanted to go to the park. Since it’s the weekend and I have no reason to decline his request, I agreed on the condition that we take our bikes. I’m only about halfway towards my current virtual marathon, which requires 508 kilometres on the bike. I’m currently at roughly 200. Today should have been my day to break out a solid 40 or 50-kilometre ride, but the morning left me uninspired due to the cold.

Nathan and I donned our helmets and took to the streets, hellbent on making our way to a local park, which was about a kilometre away. Nathan still has his training wheels on, since he outright refuses to work his legs consistently to get them stronger. I’ve been threatening to remove his training wheels all summer, but I thought this would be a good opportunity for him to ride with me and get a feel for some actual biking that doesn’t simply include doing circles in the driveway.

Riding to the park with Nathan was a learning experience. For one, I got the opportunity to o learn how slowly I can cycle and still maintain my centre of balance on the bike. FYI, it ain’t very slow. But once on the street with me, Nathan gave himself the effort and started to push hard with his legs. He not only kept up at a reasonable pace, he overtook me a couple of times and the grin on his face was worth the slow speed.

His reward was playing at a local park with a batch of kids and making new friends. He even got to pet a dog. And despite not sweating through my fitness gear like I usually do, I added almost 3 kilometres to my virtual marathon. I’ll worry about great distances tomorrow. today, I got my son on the right track to start using his bike not only for recreation but as a source of transportation. And I can certainly appreciate the opportunity. ☯️

I’m not one for posting more than once per day, but today was particular… Anyone who’s been following my blog for a while is aware that I frequently posted about my bicycling milestones, all through out the summer and fall last year. Given that temperatures hit the high teens today, the whole family took advantage of the warm weather to spend some time outside. During this time, I opened up my garage and cleaned my SUV… You know, typical warm weather stuff.

One of the things I did was grease up the chain on my bike and inflate the tires to the proper pressure. Once that was done, I couldn’t resist taking a quick spin around the block to try the ol’ girl out. I was wearing a hoodie and jeans, completely unstretched and unprepared. But I managed 1.5 kilometres in just a few seconds over 5 minutes. I spent the early afternoon running some errands and picking up my Diabetic supplies, all the while thinking about my bike. Once I got home, I couldn’t resist changing into fitness gear and going for a more substantial ride. Especially since a snowstorm is calling for tonight.

My wife was taking advantage of a quick nap while the baby was sleeping and Nathan was occupied, so I threw in the earbuds, slapped on my helmet and took a ride. 10 kilometres in 37 minutes is far from my best time, and I can admit that I didn’t really do any cross-training through the winter months. But it felt nice to get out and peddle, listen to some rocking’ tunes and enjoy my first outing since snow hit the ground.

I don’t know if a snowstorm will hit as expected, as it’s still 14 degrees out and we’re slipping into the wee hours of the late evening. But once this weather starts holding permanently, I’m looking forward to training to reach my goal of 200 kilometres. This is the goal I had for last year, but I only ever reached about 75 kilometres before it started getting too cold to be out. I’ll try not to be a constant pain in the ass and post about nothing but cycling. But I intend on keeping track of my progress and hopefully reaching the goals I fell short on last year. ☯

Sometimes I feel like an old country song. You know the ones… Where the job sucks, the house is flooding and fate seems hell-bent on bending you over the nearest bench and jabbing you up the rear end with a flaming red-hot poker… Oh, wait! That’s not a country song. That’s my life in general!

Yes, I’m feeling a little morose right now. I’ve been doing some reflecting, and maybe it’s the state of the world, maybe it’s my current perspective or maybe it’s the fact I can’t seem to get a damn break and sell my f&$kin’ house, but it has me down a bit and sometimes getting ahead of what’s getting you down isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

I came to a realization tonight while looking through some old memories from back home (Dalhousie, New Brunswick). I’ve forgotten and been forgotten by more people from my past than I will likely meet and/or becomes friends with in my future. I’ve always been a firm believer that it’s important not to live your life with regrets. Because every step you’ve taken, good or bad, has led you to be the person you are today. And to be honest, I kinda love the person I am today. I think my wife would agree…

But despite the fact that I may regret nothing, I still find myself contemplating and wondering about some of my choices and thinking about where I would be if I had made them differently. I’m sure that some of you have found yourselves in this position as well. And this is the step upon which I find myself sitting on this fateful night.

I’ve applied for a number of jobs back home. Ironically, I’ve found that the majority of these jobs are all located within the same southern New Brunswick city, which would be awesome to live in and work in. But I’ve built my life in Saskatchewan for the past eleven years. The jobs I’ve found all seem to be drawing me back to a specific area of New Brunswick and I can’t help but feel that karma is pushing me in a specified direction.

I’m tired of being tired. Recent obstacles have brought the past two years into question, but I can’t seem to sit back and admit defeat. I don’t think that any self-respecting person in my position could. Would you? Even if you’ve done nothing wrong, would you just throw in the towel and admit defeat? Can any strong person do as much?

Many people have told me that something good is just around the corner. That when one door closes, another door opens. I rather like to think that when one door closes you re-open the damn thing. That’s kinda how doors work. Maybe something good is coming from around the corner. But I don’t feel inclined to wait until that door becomes available. Maybe I need to start forcing open some doors of my own… ☯

I had an interesting dream last night about Japan. It was reminiscent of my trip there in 2001. Although it’s been almost twenty years, I still remember getting on the road in the early hours of morning before the sun rose to drive from my home town of Dalhousie, New Brunswick to Mont-Joli, Quebec where my team and I would grab the first flight of many that would carry us all the way across the globe to Narita, Japan.

It was a long summer before we travelled out in October of 2001. The world had changed about a month prior and I was curious as to whether we would actually be making the trip. But as it turned out, we decided to live life for the sake of living and risk it out. Although the rest of the team took the summer off, I trained hard as I anticipated getting my black belt in Okinawa. I was at the tail end of my time as a brown belt and this trip would provide the final step I needed to finally begin my journey in the martial arts.

We had a total of four flights, starting from Mont-Joli to Quebec City, Quebec, followed by a flight to Montreal, Quebec, on to New York before finally flying to Narita, Japan. We stayed overnight in New York and did the tourist thing. It was nice, and we even climbed the Empire State building. We dined at some restaurants and embarked on the fourteen-hour flight that would take us to Narita.

During that fourteen hours, our flight arc took us across Alaska. I remember everyone being fast asleep and the plane was dark and quiet. I was gazing over the snow-covered landscape that was 35,000 feet below me. I remember leaning my face against the window and thinking about how the world looks so peaceful and beautiful and serene from that high up… Then my bowels almost evacuated. The plane rocked violently and shifted to the side. It felt as though the plane struck something solid and I saw the port-side wing flex upward at what I felt was an impossible angle before settling back to its original position.

I sat there shaking, thinking about how close I came to dying. I looked around the plane and realized that no one had woken. I realized that if the plane had crashed, I would have been the only poor bastard awake to experience it. When Sensei woke up, I told him what happened. He got a good laugh at my expense as he explained that we probably struck an air pocket and dropped a few feet. Once the plane hit normal air, the wings would flex to accommodate the stress. If only I had known, I could have prevented making a fool of myself. It would be the first of many of those situations on this trip…

We landed in Narita, Japan and stayed at a traditional Japanese inn. The rooms had paper walls and tatami mats for beds. Honestly, the most comfortable sleep of my life with the exception of my memory foam mattress. There was a public bath and meals were served by the inn’s owner who was also the front counter person. We stayed there for three days and visited Tokyo Tower as well as the Budokan and Kodokan Judo Institute. Believe it or not, I had my very first beer at a Japanese dignitary’s home during my time in Narita. I was 23 years’ old.

We took a short flight across the Ryukyu islands to land in Naha, Okinawa. this is where we would be spending the following weeks of our stay. We checked in to the Oasis Hotel in Naha, where I would be sharing a room with the two other guys in my team while Sensei and his wife had the second room. As of the following morning, our schedule went a little something like this:

• Wake up at 6:00 am;
• Brief breakfast of whatever foods we purchased from a local grocery store and ate in our rooms;
• Three to four hours of karate classes in the morning before breaking for lunch;
• Afternoons to ourselves, which included laying on the beach, shopping at the local markets and visiting museums;
• No supper, because heavy shit was coming;
• Another three to four hours of karate with the senior class;
• Beer and food at Nakama-Sensei’s home afterwards;
• Ceremoniously pass out from exhaustion;
• Wash, rinse and repeat.

It was a gruelling few weeks of training and running around. Although it was October and considered to be the onset of the colder season for Okinawans, it was 40 degrees and hotter than hell for us. All the beer and sake we drank never came out. I could include a lot of the incidents that took place during our trip. The fact that Sensei filmed one of the other male students applying sunblock on my shoulders while at the beach, getting drunk in front of that aforementioned dignitary since it was my first time drinking beer and accidentally screaming “I love you” in Japanese to a fifteen-year old girl… Yeah, I wasn’t proud of that one. Y’all can tell me in the comments which of those fuck-ups you’d like to hear more about!

Out of everything I experienced in Okinawa, watching Sensei receive his 6th Dan was by far the most rewarding. Combined with a couple of Okinawan elders trying to set me up to marry their daughters and bring them back to Canada, it was a memorable night. It was also a fantastic way to wrap up our trip. I even got the opportunity to visit some Buddhist temples.

I miss Japan and Okinawa greatly. It was mostly a month of good times and good memories. It only surprises me that it’s taken me this long to dream memories of the place. Sensei has returned to Okinawa every two to three years since then. He keeps going back and all I’ve done is dream about the memories I’ve made. Perhaps someday I’ll go back.

I didn’t get my black belt in Okinawa like I planned. In fact, I only got it the following year in Sensei’s private dojo in my hometown. In some ways, a lot of ways, that suited me better. Would it have been memorable to get it in Okinawa? Sure. But I wouldn’t trade the memories I gained in Okinawa or the experience of my black belt test for anything in the world. ☯

How ironic is it, that today happens to be Father’s Day AND the day I write about the people who have most inspired me throughout my life? First, let’s cover off the details of Father’s Day, shall we? Father’s Day was created by Sonora Smart Dodd after sitting in church listening to a sermon about Mother’s Day. She decided she wanted to create a holiday allowing her to honour her father’s memory as he had passed. The first Father’s Day was celebrated on June 9, 1910. It took a long time for the holiday to gain popularity, and it wasn’t until 1972 that President Richard Nixon signed Father’s Day into law as a permanent, yearly holiday.

With all that being said, can you take a quick stab at who I’ll be writing about today? I would be remiss if I passed up the opportunity to write about one of the most influential men in my life: my father. His name is Peter Cook and he was born on May 4, 1952 in Saint John, New Brunswick. My father’s life did not have an easy beginning as he was given up at birth. It wasn’t until almost two years later that my Grandmother Anna and my Aunt Iris went to the orphanage and found him. My aunt took one look at him and said, “He’s smiling at me like Peter Rabbit…” And so my grandmother decided to name him Peter.

My father grew up on the island of Grand Manan, which is island in the Bay of Fundy on the south-western corner of New Brunswick. It’s a very small island, but my grandfather was a fisherman and my grandmother was a nurse at the local hospital. My father spent many a day walking along the beaches, exploring the sea and joining my grandfather on fishing excursions.

My father developed a strong love of nature, which he ultimately passed on to me. He moved to the main land and graduated high school in Sussex. From there, the following years are a mystery as he took to travelling around the province with a backpack. He’s never told me the tales of what took place during those wandering years, but he made his way to the North Shore and found himself in Dalhousie, where he got a job with the Province’s power authority: NB Power.

He met my mother through some mutual friends and within a year they were married and had me. My mother already had a son from a previous relationship, my brother Stephane. He immediately adopted my brother once they were married and my brother became his son. As I’ve written in previous posts, my brother was afflicted with several serious medical conditions that required constant care and medical attention.

My father didn’t hesitate for a second, and spent most of his time working overtime to afford sending my mother and brother to Montreal, where my brother received treatment by several specialists. The important thing is that my father always made time for me when he got home from work, no matter how busy or tired he may have been. But he sacrificed just about every part of himself for his children.

In the early 2000’s, my father began developing severe pain in his back. Although many people experience back pain, his would turn out to be far more extensive. Within the years that followed, my father would develop Degenerative Spine Disease, which would result in the loss of the use of his legs and confine him to a wheelchair for the remainder of his life.

My father is currently living in a care home in Northern New Brunswick. He lives out his life in a wheelchair, but makes the best of it. Like most Cook men, he has a fiery temper and does not suffer fools lightly. He gave up all of himself in order to provide for his family, and never spoke a word of regret. Despite the lot life has thrown him into, he’s never voiced that he would have done anything differently or any regrets he may have. Oh, sure… he bitches about his food and living conditions CONSTANTLY, but who wouldn’t?

My father is a gentle giant… A massive man who speaks softly but isn’t afraid to let his voice boom when the situation warrants it. A strong love for nature and for family, coupled with his ability to keep pushing no matter what life has thrown at him has made him one of the most inspirational men I know. And that’s important isn’t it? Everybody has heroes and it’s nice to look up to them. But I was lucky enough to be raised by mine. ☯

Do you crack your knuckles? A lot of people do. In fact, I have a hard time sitting up and stepping out of bed without my body imitating the sound of 500 mouse traps popping simultaneously. The jury’s out on whether cracking your joints is considered “safe,” but most people do it at some point or another.

Cracking your knuckles and joints has NOT been proven to be harmful. There are various studies that I’ve recently read, and rather than try to link them all here, I’ll just let y’all Google “is cracking joints dangerous” and you’ll get a bunch of articles from peer-reviewed sites that will lend their opinion.

There are different theories as to what causes joints to crack, including the release of gasses between the joints, tendons and other tissues snapping one way or another. The consensus is generally the same no matter what article you read: So long as the cracking in question doesn’t cause pain, steady discomfort, discolouration of the joints or inflammation, you’re good to go.

Depending on the study you research, you may find conflicting information, but cracking your knuckles has NOT been linked with arthritis or any associated condition. However, if any of the symptoms I provided in the previous paragraph occur, it may be a sign of some underlying pre-existing condition.

Now setting side the knuckles for a moment, what about other joints? Such as the neck? I have a nasty habit of cracking my neck, and although the practice isn’t inherently dangerous in itself, frequent neck cracking can pinch nerves and cause damage to blood vessels in the neck over time. This can lead to all kinds of nasty symptoms and conditions.

Cracking knuckles and joints isn’t inherently good or bad, but for some (such as myself) it can lend some augury of relief. If it comes to something delicate like your neck, seek treatment by a trained professional, such as a chiropractor. They’ve been medically trained to know how to alleviate the pressure that can cause discomfort in the joints, neck and back. And it’s much safer than whipping your own head around. ☯

It’s important to have goals. Ultimately, there is no hard and fast rule in regards to when you should get something done in life. Some people are of the opinion that one should be married with kids and potentially own a house by a certain age. But realistically, every person should progress with life at their own pace, no matter what others may say or think.

And while your life’s progression happens at your own pace, one needs to realize that life’s progression also never stops. Life only moves in one direction: forward. There’s no going back and there’s no doing it over. So for the most part, we consider it important to do it right the first time, because even though we should be ablate pick ourselves up and carry on, this isn’t always possible. As I’ve often said, life doesn’t care about your plan.

Sometimes we work really hard towards our goals and we actually achieve them. Dreams are based on something, right? But the mistake that most people make, is they stop or become complacent once they achieve said goal. It’s important to remember that life will continue to truck along at its usual pace, so you either need to MAINTAIN your goals or move on to the next one in order to carry on.

Working on life and having goals is a little like climbing a mountain. Doing so takes extensive training, planning and organizing. And once you’ve reached the top, it can be the best feeling in the world. But once you’ve climbed the mountain, the mountain doesn’t disappear. It still remains as the consistent obstacle that you first set to conquer. The same can be said for your goals. Whether you succeed or not, accomplishing the nice isn’t enough; because the obstacles you fought along the way will still be waiting the next day. ☯