The Wooden Spoon

I am not a blessed athlete. I am blessed that I am healthy and capable enough to run, but ability or talent is not overflowing from my running cup. Sometimes during a race or training run, my much faster, taller, male running partner will say something like "I really feel like pushing and hurting a bit" and he speeds off into the distance. And even though I support him fully, it's tough to be the wooden spoon. So. I plod along after him, pushing as fast as I can, whilst quickly running (pardon the pun) into my limits. Panting furiously, burning, sweating and hurting I am the little engine that could not keep up the pace. Sadly. And this is not a chat about speed training or Fartleks or anything related to optimising my speed. Those things we do and talk about peripherally but the reality is that most of us, the weekend warriors, do not optimise, we train to do the job. We train to survive. I am talking about a feeling of inferiority or loss that once you verbalise it is better described as being humbled by your own physical limitations. I realise on some level that running is not really about time, even though we measure everything in time. Running is about attitude. Dealing with ones own failings, the injuries, ageing and lack of talent, is actually how we get better at it. There is of course some rewards as you train more and more but even when I am fit as fiddle there is always somebody that is "in better shape" or younger or faster or...or...or... Remembering that the how well I do, is not the same as doing well takes a bit of introspection, usually overdue :-) Maybe it's ego or competitiveness but it is hard lagging behind. Yesterday afternoon's training run was one of those runs where my partner and I was out of sync. He needed a sprint or a hard run having missed our 8 km training run on Tuesday. So on our way back from a quick 4 km, he sprinted away from me to "feel the burn". I had two choices, I could relax and gently jog back home or I could push equally hard and see how long I can keep it up. Not keeping up, but keep it up. I pushed hard. Competing against the gap between us and my own breath. 

Accepting my own physical limitations and as always running provides. Even though I still got the wooden spoon, I found a way to feel competitive. Perhaps running is all about realising that the spoon is not really there!

Recovery

My first event for 2013! We swam the Roode1000 on Sunday 27 January. I almost panicked the first 250m because suddenly I realised, I have not trained properly for 8 weeks and now suddenly I am attempting an open water swim! A year ago, I did not even regard myself as a swimmer. So I breastroke-ed the race and made it in 27min50s. Not being the swimmer in the family is a bit of a challenge but at least I did it and I was not last :-).

Our next event is still to be determined, but is seems we may forego climbing Killy this year and rather go on a 4x4 trip to Botswana this year. A new and exciting dream to plan for. 

And as of this week, I am back at work. After 6 weeks of being away, I can't say I was enthusiastic to return. I do enjoy my area of work, but like most people once you get involved in the management of a group of people and a business unit, a lot of the joy is lost. I am starting the year off by trying to write a few papers and thinking about stuff. Strategise.

We are planning our training programme for the marathon and will start next week actively managing the running. In addition, swimming will steadily continue and we started a weekly Pilates class. For balance and core strength. So far we love it and I sleep very well Monday nights. And although the dieting is a slow and painful process, we are chipping away at the fat. After 3 weeks of diligence I have lost 1200 grams. Just need to keep up the good work. Focus. Strategise. In the meantime, I hope our next adventure is just around the corner.
  

Inspiration, resolutions and peace

I am inspired.

Newly inspired to continue with my journey and blog about it too. Last year with all it's wonderful highlights was sometimes brute force tough. The year 2012 was a bit of "good cop-bad cop". I have however been re-inspired, by a moment in the park, by my family (these include friends, actual family, furry loved ones and my partner) and by my resolutions. Somehow we stuck together, even though the strangeness of 2012 hit us all quite hard. We started off last year with a serious bang, so I wonder if the universe was balancing us.  I for one feel more at peace and more appreciative of simple things. The Midmar mile and then the Great Wall Marathon were two of my year's highlights, but somehow things went a bit off the beaten track after that. Another highlight, although this one should come with a HEALTH warning, we got a second puppy. Also a long coat German Shepard...but oh boy did we not see her coming at ALL. We practically should have taken out insurance, she is a one puppy tornado. And we love her to death. Jonty is still the most wonderfully gently, kindhearted sole you will ever meet in fur, but he was lonely. Now, poor thing, it never ever stops ;-) So comment around Jonty often goes like this: "We didn't appreciate you enough when you were a puppy. Good Boy".

And with 2013 starting a bit slower than usual for me (recovery from an op in Dec), I am happy to just be here, typing away at the keyboard, hoping this year will bring lots of inspiration; and believing it actually for the first time in a while. We also have, as a family, allocated a theme for 2013 "The year of the body". I am still pondering the theme song, but the general idea is that "Sweat will be fat crying" and the scale will be our friend - at least an accomplice... to be friends after being enemies for soooo long, not every relationship can be fixed all in one year ;-), maybe next year. It is however more than just being fit and healthy. Somehow, we lost faith in our bodies during the second half of 2012. We felt let down, this year we will work together again at being "together" again. 

I have on the provisional agenda the following (some people might refer to these as "resolutions"):
1) Run a marathon (thus far we are aiming for Wally Hayward 2013) - and this would be my first local marathon)
2) Swim the Ebenezer mile 16 March 2013
3) Get fit (obviously)
4) Lose the weight
5) Appreciate
6) Climb Killy
7) Learn something new
8) Blog more :-)

Dedicated to my new blogging buddy, Max Mom. Thanks for simple gifts.
Max Mom's blog about our meeting in the park. 

PS: On Saturday morning we took the pups for a walk at a local park. Inside family joke: A pack of huskies also frequent our park and the owner gathers them by calling "Huskies"; which seems super cool when 10-15 huskies come running. Well we are trying out "Shepards" with less spectacular effect, but having a lot of fun with it. Anyway, on Saturday we met Max Mom in the park and had a lovely and inspirational visit. Nothing like the freedom and absolute happiness of puppies running around the park to cheer one up. It has become one of my favourite things on a weekend. Park Time.

Proudly South African?

We were talking about not reading the news for a while. Just because being informed may not be good for the soul. I listen to 702, read the news, follow lots of journos on twitter and am usually pretty informed, but lately I think all this information is adding to my stress levels. Compounding what is, granted, a stressful time in my life in general. I don't know if "ignoring" the negative is the right thing to do, or is that just how we are going to survive? I am positive by nature, but hells bells the last few weeks things have really been rough. A large group of my neighbours in my suburb is linked via BBM, thus we have minute by minute community news - usually crime related. I have BBM group messages like "Four robberies in Sixpence street yesterday" or "Suspicious people walking the streets" all the time. I support any community based activities because we need to be communities to beat this, but I found that knowing about what is happening to my neighbours is scary and stressful and worrying beyond what I expected.
I am positive by nature, optimistic and maybe even idealistic. I have often been the odd one out in discussions about this country. I wonder though, if getting older eroded some of this in me or if somehow I missed a trick and "believing" got harder.
The ability to believe?  I want and choose to believe that people cannot be this bad to the core and that things will get better. But recently, I just started worrying. Worrying if the alarm is good enough or if the electric fence is up to scratch or if we should install more gates or maybe we should install cameras? I just don't feel safe, I feel insecure about the future. I don't like this feeling. Are things worse now or are we actually improving things and I am just experiencing a delayed reaction. Reports about corruption: Is that getting worse or are we just reporting more on it because it is newsworthy? How much of my tax money is actually being used to build this country? This country that I love so dearly.
As we sung the anthem on Saturday at Starlight Classics, images of our athletes from the O- and Paralympics were flashed on huge screens and we all commented about what a "feel good moment" it was. How "we needed something like that". After the weeks of Marikana and the miners striking, Julius, Mangaung, Limpopo etcetera etcetera, I wonder if we can somehow bring some pride and some "feel good" back in our lives, be true to our real natures.
 
I have told the story of my Great Wall Marathon run and what it meant to me. And one aspect that really struck home, because it reminds me that South Africans are special, have featured in a business presentation I gave a few months ago. I ran the Marathon in May 2012, one of the greatest adventures of my life. About 2000 athletes/runners/joggers started the various distances (about 1000 did the marathon = 42.2km). And for the rest of my life I will remember the race and how wonderful it was to be there, one of 27 South Africans! Not just another athlete, a South African. I can easily visualise how the athletes felt at the Olympics (as a South African). As I was running I met up with SA runners and we all greeted each other "Hello South Africa" having never met before. Every SA runner wore our flag in some way. From beanies to skirts to shirts to socks. I wore the flag on a specially made running top. What struck me was that more than half of the runners in the race were Americans, and I never spotted a single USA flag. It made me proud to be a South African, and I realised that I am not the only one with a Proudly South African spirit.
Truly, we have gotten something right in this country! Brand SA is in our hearts. Now all we have to do is live it. I am not sure if the negative stuff should be taken in in small doses? Or if we should focus on our own communities only and hope it will make a difference. But maybe it is just living day by day, focussing on the good stuff, like the spirit of our flag-bearing athletes in London. I don't know the answers but I am trying really hard to remind myself of the "good" when the "bad" seems to be everywhere.

Don't step on it...it makes you cry.

Today's blog is not for those of us with no fear of the scale. This is for all the girls who's scale is not their friend. My entire life weight loss has been an issue. I have - mostly - made peace with my "body type" and the constant battle with the weight gain, but I do some days just wish it wasn't so hard. I have always had to work hard to loose a few kilos and fight to get fit. Genetically I did not hit the jackpot in this regard. So, typical pattern is that during winter exercise decreases and weight increases. Sigh. It happens every year! One would think I would learn by now! I have been on a path of avoidance since June. I refuse to get on the scale. Not that my clothes don't tell the story - those unwanted winter fat rolls can't be ignored, but I just don't need to see those depressing numbers on the scale right now. Or so I tell myself. My theory works as follows: I need a focus or goal that is not weight related to enable me to work towards weight loss. If I focus to much on the weight, I start obsessing about food = leading to more food. If I focus on a running or exercise goal then food becomes less important. I sort of "reverse psychology" myself by visualising the fitness goal clearly and believing that the end result will be as desired: fitness and weight loss. This requires a bit of imagination and a lot pep talking myself.

So here's the plan: Get fit enough to run the Tough One in 3h30min end of November and then, I do the operation. Actually, just run the race. Move forward.

"My favourite day." said Pooh

I checked the definition of "fertility" and the first part of the definition was almost word for word what I would have written down if asked, namely "The ability to produce offspring". The second part however gave me a clue to the feeling I've been struggling to verbalise all this while: "Fertility - the power of reproduction". And therein lies the word I've been struggling for. All this time I've been feeling powerless! Not just sad or angry or grieving: powerless. We (the girl-children) are brainwashed about our power. Our power to choose. Our power as women in the new South Africa, our right to be equal...and yet a simple little word "infertile" can change one's self image dramatically.

This word's been hanging over my head for a longt iem. I thought I was "fine", maybe sad sometimes with a sense of loss, but hey I think that is an perfectly acceptable feeling. Once you start poking in the dark places though, unexpected nasty things stir and suddenly the issue of self worth stirrs the dark inners of one's soul. Powerless. Like a rolling blackout, lost even. I've spent quite a few sleepless nights trying to accept and prepare myself emotionally. I've researched the practical issues, chatted to a friend who had a hysterectomy and tried really hard to be brave about this. I drew the line at checking out the procedure on You Tube (a friend of mine did and I am sure I couldn't handle knowing the gory details of the actual operation). So hell, I am scared. Scared that I will be pathetic afterwards. Scared that I won't be the same person. Scared that somehow psychologically the "womb-lessness" will make me different.
So I am writing down scary thoughts, sorting through the issues and hopefully finding my equilibrium. I am - not so eloquently - sorting through my stuff because in the end a knife is going to cut something out of me - something I was born with. Something that changes the way you think about yourself - even if it shouldn't. 
It is a blend of being "fine", understanding the situation, accepting the issues, and yet being confused and scared all at once. Yesterday I was reminded of my first principle (via a friend's WhatsApp message): "...in this moment there is complete peace". It is true and it is truth. We cannot change the past. I can change how I feel about it, but it is what it is and yesterday and tomorrow does not exist.

"What day is it?" asked Pooh
"It's today." squeaked Piglet.
"My favourite day." said Pooh

Thanks to Annie and Pooh for reminding me.

China and life after the marathon

Dear Diary...
I made it. I ran a marathon and I made in good time (for that marathon) - 6 hours 23 minutes. And I was so proud, so happy. Even though that was May and this is August, maybe I should end this cycle, complete the circle and tell the story - at least some overview.
It was amazing. Tough as hell, beautiful and challenging, but amazing. I was ready and I did it. I have the medal, the poster photos and the t-shirt. I did it.
Strange, I meant to of course, write up the whole thing and how much it meant to me. After months of preparation and many interesting stories, it was almost surreal once I was done. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing. I don't think I can put into words how amazing it was. I am so glad to have seen, felt, touched and experienced the Great Wall. It is worthy of it's name. I did not find China - Beijing - in general awe inspiring...but the Wall took my breath away. Of all the things to see in life, I think this is one worthy of effort. But once I came back life took me on it's normal roller coaster ride and I never actually got around to writing my story. And when I started thinking about it, I realised the story changed. It is different now, maybe I am different now.
So I ran the marathon, a tough one, and came back home (really homesick) and winter hit and my running went from feast to famine. And I started missing having a goal. It does not help that I am still sans training partners (Toe-less-wonder and Falling-down-stairs are both still slowly coming back to the fold). So August is here (and it is snowing today) and I started attending my ritual of running again in the past week. I am back. And I have stuff to say, stuff to think about and a big life choices to make. Life after the marathon has begun... But before I turn the page, some of the visuals from my big adventure.

The poster child at the finish.

Never before was I so relieved to finish. So many starters did not make the official cut-off time. I took many pictures and fought many demons to get to this point. I loved it. I hated it. I loved it.

Beautiful views, breathtaking scenery...

So it was harder than just a normal marathon? Yes. Steeper than I expected? Yes.
Killer steps were hard, but the gradient that is what killed me, but hey it was way easier than I had anticipated.

There was one section that took me 30 minutes to climb a mere 1 km. It was just so steep. And after 35 km, it bites!

And in the end, I was also reminded how much I love SA and how proudly South African we are.