Inspiration from Friends who are Killing It!

I am starting to feel like myself again in the mist of processing everything. At times like these, I can find it pretty hard to get motivated to train or work on the projects that I am normally passionately immersed in. My people, the family you have that are either blood related or not, have been incredibly supportive and have reminded me how many great things I am working towards. I am taking a little time to focus on all of the extremely inspirational people in my life and borrow a little energy from them. I wanted to use this post to celebrate just a few of the amazing people in my life and the infectious power that comes from chasing your dreams whole heartedly.

First up is my cousin, probably one of the most inspiring women I know. Her love for others (of the human and  the furry, 4-legged variety) and her hours upon hours of introspection is one of the few reasons I admire her. She has the ability to navigate through life’s major ups and downs with feeling and with flare.  When she was here in Vancouver for her brother’s wedding we were lucky enough to spend a couple of days together. She is going after her passion for food, mentorship and management while working her way up the restaurant chain. I have no doubt that she will one day own her own restaurant one day. And on top of that, she pursues it with such fashionable feistiness, I cannot help but want to do the same with my own pursuits. 

Next up is the stunt ladies in my life. One of them has been working in the sutnt industry for a while, one of them has made a major breakthrough this year and the other is quickly working her way onto the scene. They all come from different backgrounds of elite level activity.  Not your typically girls group either. Ju jitsu, muay thai, motorcycles are just a few of their collective passtimes. I sometimes feel intimidated when they bring me to their martial arts training sessions but other times they make me feel very confident in my own skills when they ask me to teach them gymnastics or parkour. Makes me realize that we may all be masters of our own trade but we are students of all the others. Not only are these ladies incredibly talented but they are so positive and accepting. They have brought me into their group, mentored me and provided support throughout the ups and downs.

Two of my most favourite people in the world are killing it as a team. I consider these two my family. I have been friends with the husband since we were in Grade 10 math class together. He knows me better than anyone. THe wife has been a total blessing to him, and to myself. Seriously, he is one lucky guy.  She is the full package deal and I never thought that I would have such a close relationship with another female. I love these two immensley. More importantly though, they have worked together, supporting eachother at different times, as each of them strives  towards their personal goals. She is new to the fashion design industry and is already experiencing immense success. He finally took the plunge and changed up his career path while simultaneously returning to the competitive golf circuit. A true team. Not to mention they are my biggest cheerleaders and have fully embraced and supported my lifestyle, goals and craziness. 

FINally there is one other special person in my life who is truly killing it. THe only other person I have met who can juggle ambitious career goals with a multitude of athletic persuits (both mainstream and extreme), volunteer work and a packed social schedule. And they do it with such passionate conviction. I don’t think that I have met anyone else who packed up everything and moved to China in search of a new career, in a new industry, on the other side of the planet. And I’m not talking about a fearless risk taker because those people scare me and belong in REdBull commercials. I’m talking about calculated risks that are outside of the score of almsot everyone I know.  Spending time with this person makes me want to be better at whatever I’m doing. Whether it’s problem solving at work, training my circus routines, learning a new sport like kiteboarding (see next post for more info on this grand adventure) or putting in that little bit of extra energy to network. It is rare to find someone that inspires you in all facets of your life. 

 So what do all of these people posses that I feel attributes to their “killing it”? First off, they all have passion. Very high doses of passion. Hardwork that is directed at a goal they want so bad they dream about it. Secondly, they are all very self aware. They have gone their own trails and tribulations and used those experiences to develop a keen sense of self. Thirdly (which is actually a combination of the first two), they do what they do, and go after what they do, unapologetically. They stay true to themselves, they stray from the norms, stick to their guns and they don’t apologize for it. And that is my definition of Killing it. Something to look up to as you are trying to get your motivation back.



The power of a matriarch


I was sitting on a plane bound for my new-ish home in Vancouver after a brief stint in Calgary and an even more brief, stopover in Ontario. I had intended on spending the long weekend in a large gym, crammed with volleyball players and volleyball supporters, promoting the company a few of us started up last year. Six days working a booth, talking to parents about AthleteConnect and how it can improve not-so-little (even the 15-year olds are giants compared to myself) Lexi and Tyler’s opportunities to play post-secondary sport in Canada. Not a luxurious way to spend a long weekend but an entrepreneurial necessity.

Well I put in a solid 3-days at the Olympic Oval before I had to catch the red eye to say farewell to someone very dear to me. Someone whom I will probably see for the last time. While I was home amongst this looming sadness, I really started to think about the effect that a strong matriarch can have on a family. With the early departure of the patriarch, she is the one person who is responsible for maintaining the current branches in the family’s tree. She has been around long enough to amass an extensive collection of trails, tribulations, joys and successes. She upholds the traditions of the clan and can manage the politics of a family solely by the respect her presence in the room commands. She also happens to be the person responsible for filling you with ice cream sundaes, butter tarts and the birthday cards containing a bit of spending money.

As we flooded into our hometown from all over Ontario, British Columbia, Virginia and Australia, something overwhelmingly powerful happened. For the first time in 11-years, every daughter, son, granddaughter and grandson (as well as a few additions to the family, including a great-grandson) gathered in one place, caught up and reconnected with each other. Rather than sadness filling the air, there were hugs and laughter as everyone took turns sharing their latest successes and adventures. As the photographer grouped the four extensions of the clan around the almost stoic matriarch for one final portrait of it’s kind, there was a strong sense of pride and belonging.

The Ross Clan

The Ross Clan

So what happens to the many branches of a family tree when the matriarch has to leave us? Does each limb grow in it’s own separate direction, preparing to expand it’s own reach to the next generation? Who will step up to carry on and instill the family values and traditions that we associate with being ‘home’? Perhaps, large congregations of the clan will be limited to the wedding circuit.  Or maybe it will only be in times of major sorrow that our paths cross. A passing of the guard is inevitable. With it comes a wave of wonderful memories that become etched in one’s heart forever. It’s not an answer but a consolation within a process of change.


Certain realities of money

Money. A reality and necessity of living. Especially in the wealthy, developed land we live in. A reality that has recently given me a not-so subtle kick in the pants. The pleasure of training and pursuing one’s dream without making much money (certainly not enough money to afford solo-rent, gas, organic/ free-range / GMO-free food, evenings at the local craft-brewery and any sort of plane ticket to anywhere) can apparently only go on for so long.

The difference between needing and wanting when it comes to the above mentioned list of creature comforts can get quite blurred with me. Living on my own gives me my coveted personal sanctuary. But the price tag on that, especially in Vancouver, is steep. My grocery delivery service allows me to eat good food, save time and avoid impulse purchases at the grocery store (whose checkout lines are a constant test of will against all of the rubbish magazines, chocolate bars and candy that call to you as you wait for your kale and avocados to be scanned and bagged). The personal and social benefits of enjoying a cold summer pilsner or warm amber ale with friends at the local watering hole are self-explanatory. A 6-pack of Glacier at home just cannot properly lift one’s spirits or quench one’s thirst. And then there are my monthly training expenses. Let’s just say they border on ridiculous.

The reality is that at some point, you either need to make some decent money to live or you have to say goodbye to ALL of those creature comforts we cannot seem to live without. I recently hit such a crossroads and found myself on the side with regular massages, farmer’s market double smoked bacon and surf sessions on the Oregon coast. I can only imagine how relieved my father was when I told him that I needed to venture back to the dark side of paper pushers and weekend warriors. I signed a year’s contract to run a gymnastics centre while my boss is on maternity leave. Unlike my previous job where I had to build up the gym from scratch, my sole responsibilities are to hold down the fort for a year and not make too many changes or mistakes. Not an entirely difficult task. And this deal was sweetened with enough flex time and freedom to continue a scaled-down version of my training regime.

First day on the job, obviously had to do a handstand...

First day on the job, obviously had to do a handstand…

I certainly didn’t jump at this endeavour right away as, with all decisions, there is an opportunity cost. That cost for me was training and networking time. For each hour on the job equaled one less hour I could train or one less hour I could meet a stunt industry professional on set for possible big break. But here’s the reality of it. I love a challenge, I love a regular paycheque (as I equate it to the hours of kickboxing lessons I can take and all of the exotic places I can escape to on my ‘vacation’ time) and I have a very hard time saying no. This is a great opportunity with a fixed timeline.

The traditionalist people in my life jumped for joy and offered little sympathy as I hung up my freedom to rejoin the working classes. The free-spirited people in my life, embracing alternative lifestyles were cautiously supportive. At the end of the day, the ability so save some more money away for a future bout “professional acquirer of stunt-related skills”, mixed with working for an awesomely energetic management and admin team who have graced me with some flexibility, made it very difficult to turn down. Do I feel like I have betrayed big dreams? Temporarily, yes. But that evening glass of organic vino, trip home to hold my new nephew and the occasional visit to the acupuncturist are pretty nice too.



Gem Alberta and one last big move

For those of you who have read some of my previous posts about moving, you will understand how long and drawn out this process has been. Well, what’s one more moving story. This one is hopefully the last for a while as this particular adventure concludes with all of my stuff (minus a sofabed) being in one location for the first time in 9 months.

I flew to calgary and got upgraded to a sweet rental car. From there I drove out into the middle of nowhere to a town called Gem. Possibly named for it’s beauty, which it has some. More likely named for it being as small difficult to find as a precious stone. If you blink while driving, you pass right through it. What brought me out to this part of the prairies you might ask. A real gem. My good friend from university who has found bliss in the countryside with the man of her dreams and a puppy who has paw-printed every piece of clothing I brought with me.

This wonderful friend of mine brought be out to be the guest speaker at the women’s provincial A1 championships for Basketball. To be honest, before I showed up to the banquet I had no idea what the event was, how many people were going to be there or what they wanted out of my speech. Not the best planning by someone who is very nervous when speaking to large crowds. ANyways, I shared my  experiences in sport and tried to impart how beneficial staying in sport after high school is. Whether or not I made an impact, let alone made any sense, these girls were wonderful. They listened, they danced, they sang, they laughed and I felt very fortunate to share this experience with them.

I don’t get to see this friend very often, and I miss her and her baking like mad so it was so great to catch up. Seriously, this lady baked all of the cupcakes for her own wedding. She always has some sort of delicious treat at the ready. THe visit and the baked goods served as an excellent distraction from driving a uHaul filled with the remaining wordly possessions I have, all the way to Vancouver.

The journey was pretty smooth. My couch did not make it. As in, didn’t even make it out of my condo. Officiallly a house warming present to whomever purchases my place. We lost a DVD tower en route and I managed to snap a metal IKEA storage frame when I muscled the uHaul door open upon my arrival in Vancouver. I needed to downsize anyways. All in all a successful journey and now I can continue to settle into my not sonew home.


Another St Paddy’s Day with the Birthday Princess

Some birthdays are more memorable than others. Sweet sixteen on the beaches of Florida, I can finally use valid identification to go to the bar with my wrestling team 19th (if you are in Ontario), the 25th “break your nose on the side of a van” pirate themed party, and the 30th in Boston on St Paddy’s Day with my favourite people (need I say more). I can confidently add the 32nd to the list.

50's themed Brithday princess (self made, Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany's custom)

50’s themed Brithday princess (self made, Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany’s custom)

Some of my fam in Boston at the parade in Southy for my 30th

Some of my fam in Boston at the parade in Southy for my 30th

First off, I think I need to talk about my dark side. My fatal flaw. I suffer from a self-imposed “condition” or what is self-diagnosed as birthday princess-itis. Loosely described as the neurotic implementation of high expectations on your social circle (and any other passers by who are game to participate) to stop and celebrate your day of birth.   It is the annual opportunity to justify my desire to be the centre of attention and hold the stage for 24 straight hours. And in exchange for your undivided attention I continue to promise and deliver 24 straight hours of entertainment at my expense. Gifts are not required but definitely enjoyed as all I want is your time and sense of humour / adventure. And, on top of all of that, if things end up getting out of hand, you have apologetic coffees, chocolate and repaired / dry-cleaned clothing to look forward to the following day. So in my mind, it is an equitable arrangement.

I can honestly say that I was not expecting anything this year. New to Vancouver, having left all my friends and loved ones who understand just how neurotic I am about my birthday, I had done a pretty good job of lowering expectations as low as a birthday princess could. I kept plans low key and flexible. Wowza, was my mind blown with how awesome my day went!


I awoke to the long distances birthday wishes of my family and best friends in Ontario (who were 3 hours ahead and patiently waiting to be the first to call) and Calgary. I chatted up a storm all morning as I made my way to the top of Grouse mountain where, donning my green tiara, I spiked my coffee with Jameson’s and took in the breathtaking views of the city below and the ships cruising into the harbour.

I made it down into the city feeling extremely zen. I received my first birthday present from my friend and talented hairdresser at BangTown who couldn’t join the festivities that night so he, with his magic wand (aka. curling iron and 5 pounds of hair product), ensured I looked fabulous from the scalp up. I felt like a true diva. Then, with my fabulous new hair style, I was given one of the coolest birthday presents yet. I was invited to experience the process of choreographing a bad-ass fight scene for a film. Yes folks, for my birthday, I got to be a stand-in villain who gets killed by the anti-hero. The real present came when I was able to contribute one of my former wrestling moves to the fight which led to a “good job Andrea” pat on the back from the stunt choreographer. A moment which gave me a non-caffinated high for the rest of the day (and much into the following week).

Designated Birthday Buddy

Designated Birthday Buddy

Finally it was show time. Exposing my new friends to the gong-show, alter-ego that is the birthday princess. I was decked out in my birthday dress, tiara, green helium balloon attached to my wrist and carried a green purse stalked with green beads, leprechaun tattoos and a deck of cards (because a birthday princess is always prepared). My designated birthday buddy kicked off the event with TMNT (teenage mutant ninja turtles for those of you not raised by late 80’s cartoons) shots and escorted me down to Olympic Village where a group of new parkour and circus friends ate, drank and laughed at a pub. I even got the thrill of watching some of the reactions of those who were quite shocked and taken back by this loud, sailor-mouthed, enjoyer of awkward moments with the helium balloon reattached to her green tiara. My circus training buddy made me a beautiful necklace, others generously shared a variety of shots / beers and another friend managed to make an appearance after flying all day from Europe. How lucky am I!

Parkour friends represent

Parkour friends represent

Circus friends represent

Circus friends represent

I woke up the next morning with aching cheeks from smiling and a deep appreciation for the awesome friends I have made in Vancouver. They’re freaking keepers! Another incredible birthday for the books and further justification to leave the birthday princess-itis uncured.


Becoming a British Columbian

So I have finally come around to the idea of relinquishing whatever ties I have left of being an Albertan  and begun the slow, painful and costly process of becoming a Vancouverite. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not just for the fact that change is hard but also because any beaurocratic system is far from being efficient and quick.

I managed to shell out way too much money to get my car provincially inspected and got my drivers’ licence switched over. I felt a little naked without my ID for the 2 weeks that I only had a paper permit. lt was the first time since I was 18 that I desperately hoped I wouldn’t get ID’d at the liquor store because I did not have photo ID with me. When my new identitification came in the mail it felt like I was getting a brand new identity along with it. I was now Andrea Ross from Vancouver, whatever that meant in relation to ANdrea Ross from Calgary, formerly Andrea ROss of London. 

The most exciting part of getting my new drivers licence was being able to get my library card. Having access to millions of books, audio books, free internet, and the occasional outdated film is so exillerating to me. I am currently listening to “A Week with Marilyn” as I drive from coaching to training to auditions and back to coaching. The downside of getting my BC drivers licence is saying goodbye to free Alberta healthcare and hello to $70 a month so I can still pay full price for my massage, chiro and accupuncture. The tradeoffs we make.

The other major undertaking I’ve had these past few weeks has been my living situation. I can write about this now becasue it has all seemed to have worked out. Last week I wasn’t feelign so great about the whole subject. You go from owning your own condo to bribing and begging landlords and property managers to accept you as a tenant. For two weeks, I stalked craigslist, made dozens and dozens of phone calls which led to daily apartment viewings. When I finally visited a place that was within my budget, that didn’t reek of mould and that had a fridge and a stove that where not built before I was born, I would get to the application portion of the process. 

Anyone who has tried to rent in Vancouver will know that it is extremely competitive. By the time I finished filling out one application, the apartment would have already been leased out. Apartment buildings became odd tourist attractions where one group would be ushered out while a whole new tour group were ushered in. Everyone josteling to get in the door first and then passive aggressively trying to gain favour with the landlord. The other thing I had going against me was trying to explain to property managers how my 5 various jobs made me enough money to consistently pay rent. It didn’t matter how much I stretched the truth and overstated my monthly income, the apartment would still go to the boring person with the steady 9-5 job. 

After almost giving up and drafting floorplans for my cardboard box house in East Hastings I got a little drunk, went for a walk along the beach and dictated a letter to potential property managers with the top 5 reasons why, even with my alternative lifestyle,  I  would make an excellent tenant. Well wouldn’t you know, the second landlord I handed that letter to called me the next day and asked when I wanted to sign a lease. I felt so victorious! I may be trading in brand new, 650 square feet with underground parking, dishwasher and ensuite laundry for super old, 400 something square feet with shady street parking, no dishwasher, and shared laundry for almost the same amount of money. But I have a home now and with a little assistance from my fabulous interior designing aunt from TOronto, I will make it great!


My first stunt audition

Holy smokes batman! This week I had my very first stunt audition! It is the first real indicator of progress because the only way that I found out about it was from people in the stunt community. If take this as a sign that I have not scared my new friends away and that I am a total b*tch. I had 24 hours to prepare for the audition that could have us doing anytrhing and everything. The only thing I did know about it was that it played to my parkour strengths.

I was so nervous and excited the morning of that I couldnt’ t eat breakfast or drink any coffee. I got there extra early and warmed up thoroughly. Apparently this was not your typical audition, which sucks because I had so much fun. The 40+ other people there were high energy, the stunt coordinator was very nice and the skills he asked of us were things I had already done hundreds of times. 

Was I the best there? no. Was I the best female there? no. Was I close? I definitely think so. What did I learn from this experience after having some time to recap?

– there is a fine balance between demonstrating what the coordinators want and standing out from the rest of the crowd (I would’ve taken more of a risk with some of my skills)

– shut up and listen

– anything goes….anything (it just might not be what they’re looking for but everyone is still supportive)

– networking 101: Introduce yourself at the beginning, thank them for their time at the end (facetime in this industry is key)

– a smile and positive attitude go frickin far (well that’s still to be determined as I am yet to get a call back…)

I had so much fun at that audition that I was not prepared for my commercial callback. We were in and out before I even realized I wasn’t in a gym anymore. So there it is, just as you are getting a little frustrated with your journey, something small but great enough happens to refresh your passion.

Athlete Inspired