I like to bike fast. Down in the hills of the city of Halifax where I study I can get moving really fast. The uphills are not so fun. But every uphill puts me in better shape and allows for that thrill going down after the hard work.
The next month is going to be tough physically for me. I had been working hard at school to finish my classes and I didn't exercise much. Now that I am done the semmester getting in shape will be tough. I've been biking everyday to school so the running and the swimming will be the main challenge. I know I can do it because my family encourages me and when I get home next week everybody they're is going to training up a storm-Mike
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Still running?
It's November 29 I’m in the library finishing assignments for the semester and in 17 days I’ll be back home for the holidays. Christmas is great because it is one of those times that I get to spend with my family. It doesn't matter what I do during the year or where I go I always end up at home with my family.
Still running?
Still running?
Friday, February 29, 2008
Swimmers take your mark
The phrase, "swimmers take your mark" was what an official said before every race I ever swam. I began to hear these words when I was eight and continued to hear them until I turned nineteen. This made swimming and competing a big part of my life during my youth and childhood. Migranes and two hour practices for six days a week was enough to tire me out, so, I decided to stop swimming competively after tenth grade and focus more on school and studying the violin. Even though I left competive swiming behind I never forgot it. Just over a month ago I began to train for the Breezy Point Triathlon and within the first ten minutes of being in the pool a flood of memories came back to me. I found myself back during my swimming years freestyling my way in and out of six different pools during the morning and at night, indoors and outdoors, gliding through water anywhere from 65 to 89 degrees. My memories of being in the pool brought back the sound of "Go! Go!" (people cheering for me on the pool deck) when I went as fast as I could and emptied myself of everything I had. These cheers made me remember the feeling of pain that goes along with being physically drained and not even coming in top 16.During my training for Breezy Point I get to deal with these memories. As I retrace my strokes of the past I must find a way to swim that is not painfully fulfilling. "Swimmers take your mark,” the official said... “Ha” I thought as I turned into lap twenty, this race is different.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Blog 2
I wrote this a few months ago on a scape piece of paper intending to put it in my blog.
It’s the evening before Mother’s Day and I have found myself riding on a bus to the old city of Salamanca. The trip is quiet and smooth as the bus moves gently under the sun’s still powerful rays. As time goes by that large ball of heat keeps it’s strength but slids down the sky like a single raindrop moving down a window pane. When the sun slowly looses it’s position in the sky, it loses the power to kill and its reign over darkness.
The bus continues to move through the hills and into the mountains of Madrid’s sierra as dusk begins to grow. My view outside the window shows me a temporal world of green. I can see that winter has finally unfolded into spring and the land has been blanketed by short stubble grass. The climate here is hot and dry, but spring is the moment when it’s temperance allows for a change from brown earth to green saud. With this in mind I know that soon summer’s heat will take away the green and again the land outside the window will be barren. But today I celebrate spring and it’s victory over a barren land.
The trip reminds me that this is the third time in four months that I have left Madrid. It feels nice to go outside the city and see things from a different angle. As I look out the window I can see that the mountains the bus has been moving through are now blurred by the clouds that cover them, hovever it may seem as though I am just looking through a foggy window. But the windows of the express bus to Salamanca are clear and clean and the landscape continues to remain alive.
It’s the evening before Mother’s Day and I have found myself riding on a bus to the old city of Salamanca. The trip is quiet and smooth as the bus moves gently under the sun’s still powerful rays. As time goes by that large ball of heat keeps it’s strength but slids down the sky like a single raindrop moving down a window pane. When the sun slowly looses it’s position in the sky, it loses the power to kill and its reign over darkness.
The bus continues to move through the hills and into the mountains of Madrid’s sierra as dusk begins to grow. My view outside the window shows me a temporal world of green. I can see that winter has finally unfolded into spring and the land has been blanketed by short stubble grass. The climate here is hot and dry, but spring is the moment when it’s temperance allows for a change from brown earth to green saud. With this in mind I know that soon summer’s heat will take away the green and again the land outside the window will be barren. But today I celebrate spring and it’s victory over a barren land.
The trip reminds me that this is the third time in four months that I have left Madrid. It feels nice to go outside the city and see things from a different angle. As I look out the window I can see that the mountains the bus has been moving through are now blurred by the clouds that cover them, hovever it may seem as though I am just looking through a foggy window. But the windows of the express bus to Salamanca are clear and clean and the landscape continues to remain alive.
Monday, April 2, 2007
Mike Caring for Carcinoid
My name is Michael Blackwood. I was born in Montague P.E.I. on May 27, 1985. I am the sixth child of my parents. I have 2 sisters and 8 brothers one of those is my identical twin Tim. I like to play the violin, the Spanish language, and Spain. My family is the community I grew up in and it is a very important part of my life.
My parents work a lot. My Dad is a family doctor. My mom is many things; she works as the office manager of my Dad's family practice and has brought up ten kids. She turned fifty, one year ago. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with carcinoid a rare form of neroendocrine cancer. She likes to play the piano.
I’m studying music and Spanish in Madrid. My twin brother Tim and I live in a working class district called “La Latina.” We rent two rooms from a woman from the Dominican Republic. The rooms don’t have heat but it's still a neat place to be. I'm thinking of returning to Spain this coming year to continue my studies.
As a young person it is easy to feel as if there is no end to life. Yet the more reality calls my name, it says that life is not meant to be ignored. My mom having carcinoid is one of those realities. The future is what will come and the present is what we have in our veins.
Mike
My parents work a lot. My Dad is a family doctor. My mom is many things; she works as the office manager of my Dad's family practice and has brought up ten kids. She turned fifty, one year ago. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with carcinoid a rare form of neroendocrine cancer. She likes to play the piano.
I’m studying music and Spanish in Madrid. My twin brother Tim and I live in a working class district called “La Latina.” We rent two rooms from a woman from the Dominican Republic. The rooms don’t have heat but it's still a neat place to be. I'm thinking of returning to Spain this coming year to continue my studies.
As a young person it is easy to feel as if there is no end to life. Yet the more reality calls my name, it says that life is not meant to be ignored. My mom having carcinoid is one of those realities. The future is what will come and the present is what we have in our veins.
Mike
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