Hope (noun)

 A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen... 
 

Tomorrow

Tomorrow things will be better. I was thinking that last night, despite my ramblings of the past few posts, I am still an enternal optimist. I live in South Africa, but I refuse to be just negative. I want to believe that things will get better, even against the odds, despite logic...I am a believer.

A friend sent me this picture this morning, and I smiled. I thought wistfully last night before I fell asleep: "I am sure tomorrow will be better".

Tomorrow for me is not mañana, meaning "not today" or "tomorrow" in Spanish. I am too much of a planner to just let life take me. When you ask a Spaniard to do something for you and they say "mañana", what they actually mean is "What you asked me to do is not important to me and I'll get around to it when I can. My "tomorrow" is a proactive dream or the opportiny for something great to happen. Perhaps tomorrow, I will get to do more fun stuff at work. Perhaps tomorrow, something great will happen. Anything is possible...tomorrow.

All I have to keep doing is: believe..
So mystical land here I come :-)

More questions?

It took a while, but we are mostly back to normal. I still have a strange sense of loss though. It is not the loss of my stuff. I've lost my sense of direction or purpose in all of the drama. And then today the news from Boston breaks and my world tilts just a little more towards the "nothing makes sense anymore" angle.
Running events are my safe place. Emotionally and physically.
Early morning starts, fresh air, laughing, chatting runners huddled together, the anticipation in the air and the wonderful sense that anything is possible. I always feel closer to people and somehow there is a sense that we are all just human beings doing something we love!

And then somebody evil destroys an event like then Boston Marathon and my heart breaks. And I don't have words...

Only questions and no answers.

A box of chocolates

The past few weeks have been a mixed bag of hard work, hardship and hard yards.

On Monday the 18th of March, I got the dreaded phone call from the neighbour and armed response. There's been an incident at home. I fly home at top speed, knowing my cleaning lady was home alone. It turns out we had an armed robbery; held at knife point while they ransacked our house. Virtually the entire contents of our cupboards were on the floor (especially in the main bedroom) and I lost all my jewelery. I am not a big collector or anything, but I had a few old heirloom pieces (more than a hundred years old) that is now gone. The chaos was traumatic. The police caught a suspect, but three got away with stuff. Overall some items were recovered. Amongst these were our running shoes! And some of the electronic appliances (PS3, iPad, phones etc).It is such a strange feeling to see all your stuff, packed in your own bags, in the back of a police vehicle. They handed the stuff over the wall. The flat screen TV was damaged (screen cracked) and the guys that got away got my camera (see Canon Day). Anyway, the entire insurance inquisition that followed left me traumatised and weak. I felt like I was in a Nazi camp. Despite the ordeal, the insurance covered most things and we have a replacement TV and camera and I have to get some jewelery back, but somehow the joy of the getting new things don't really apply. It is just tainted. I am grateful nobody got hurt. I took Liz for trauma counseling, and she bounced back wonderfully. My pcyche got a bit dented.I couldn't sleep for a week. But even that is getting better now. Maybe because we are spending a small fortune on palisade and electrical fencing infrastructure (and trust me it is on the scale of infrastructure!) Nobody was physically hurt, the puppies are safe (the thieves were kind enough to close the gate and leave them alone), but I've been generally sad. Sad at the waste (broken things), the lost heirlooms and family history and the lost children (because they were juveniles) who's lives are so wasted. 

I felt violated. They touched and searched through my clothes, stole my clothes and shoes and stuff. I had to wash all my clothes again before I felt better. 

I've felt a bit lost too. Once somebody's thrown the content of all the cupboards on the floor, it is weird how you can't find stuff. I don't know if we've misfiled it or if it is stolen. I just feel frustrated because I am looking for things all the time - never knowing if it is gone or not.
At work, it's been a month of being Acting Manager of our division again. We still don't have a new manager after 7 months, it is getting a bit like boot camp. Every few weeks you get your turn to be in managment boot camp. I am a wreck. Working hard on my own ulcer.
Between the chaos at home and the stress at work, my body is just not rebooting properly anymore. This past week's been rougher than most and I even struggled to be enthusiastic about running. So we pushed a few kays through, but it was hard yards.
Where am I now? Craving some comfort food, even decadent KFC or some form of take-out food, just because I am tired of toeing the line. I want to put foot down and speed down the highway at 160km/h and not care about fines. I want to stay at home because I feel like it and not feel guilty about work. I just want to be for a bit.
My life's been a bit like the Gumpian "box of chocolates" of late, and all I can think of is, gimme some of the cocoa goodness...now! Stop the bus, I want to get off. I am not going anywhere.

Hard work and rewards

Sunday we ran our second half marathon of this year in an exciting 2:13 (Edenvale), more than 10 minutes faster than our first this year 2 weeks earlier. We both were a bit creaky afterwards, but we felt proud. We couldn't run on Tuesday or Wednesday and Monday was our rest day. The weather spoke loud and clear (lightning and thunder) and we chose to not run. So after weeks of running 5 times a week, this sudden break caught me slightly off gaurd. I suddenly felt fat like I picked up weight overnight (I am not kidding). My urge to snack increased dramatically. All I could think about is my weight and food and how much I miss cheese. Psychologically I struggle with adjusting my self image accurately relative to my actual weight. Since mid-January I've lost 5.4kg and yet my mind is still convinced the weight will jump back on if I drop my guard for a second. Intellectually, I know this not to be true. The thing that fascinates me is how our emotions (the baggage we have) can play havoc with our general mindset even when you are aware of the pitfalls. I struggle with weightloss and it is doubly hard with no thyroid, but we've been really good and have hardly stepped of the healthy diet track in nearly 3 months. I have to train like a demon to stay fit, my body's natural state is "couch fit". My weight has always been a struggle. I have had a few good years but I have never been super thin. So weightloss and training is always an uphill battle for me. And there are in life, like in a race usually more uphill than the downhill, but man when you hit a downhill after you worked hard up a steep one, that feeling of freedom is beyond description. It often just clicks, a few kilometers into race: your stride feels fluid, you feel like a real athlete and your breathing is easy. In that moment your mind is clear and bright and the world feels like a fabulous place and if you are lucky, your iPod is blaring a good song right at that moment. The high is so worth all the effort. Not because your brain is duped by good chemicals, but because your body is doing something that you've worked hard to achieve. We are but physical beings, even I, who scoffed at physical stuff most of my life and focussed on the intellect, am totally converted. A runner's high is rare and usually short lived, but it is so worth it. May we all have a few "runner's highs" today, no matter what we do! I leave with this favourite quote:

"I often hear someone say I'm not a real runner. We are all runners, some just run faster than others. I never met a fake runner." -Bart Yasso

And later (maybe next month)...

Sometimes you just need some beautiful

gedagte-heelal

soms is jy my
maan
wat gedagte-getye
laat eb en vloed

soms is jy ‘n
sterrereën
wat my dorre siel
kom voed

en soms is jy die
son
waarom ek kring in‘n
ons-om-wenteling

©Isabel Geldenhuys

I was reminded by a friend that sometimes, we just need some beauty. And a poem and photograph says more than any babbling blogging can.

The hard yards

It's now time for the hard yards, the slog, the grind. Training for longer distances is not like just running for the soul. There is sometimes less joy and soul when your training get to the hard yards phase. The problem is Mondays, the count starts at zero for week. The grind starts all over again! And you are at the bottom of a very steep hill. By Wednesday/Thursday I start getting into the groove and on Saturday I am feeling like a champion for sticking with the plan.
I thought I was immune to the grind of building the foundation, but stepping up the distance and then adding on top of that losing weight stresses (and tiredness)... it al adds up to a bit of a "lull" in the mood. Two nights in a row now we went to bed at 20:30. And slept. Slept like a moss-covered log. Last week's efforts were impressive, we upped the total kilometers for the week to 54 km. Which meant two long runs on the weekend. I know the hard yards need to be done (run), but it can make one feel a little snowed under. It helps me to stand still for a moment and remember that there is joy in the running. Stop and smell the fresh air, enjoy the beautiful sunrise and the new shoe smell. Remember to not focus on only the hard work, effort, sweat and tired feet. This is usually when I pull out my spreadsheet and graphs. Since actively starting to train this year (after recovery from my op), we've completed more than 200 km (in about 2 months). Not too shabby. Since starting this journey I've lost 4.8 kg - not only a huge advantage when running, but also a great morale booster. So when I get discouraged, I look at my records and I add up the numbers and I remember that the hard yards also add up and in a month these same tough times will no longer be "the hard yards", they will just be hard facts, telling the story of progress. I feel better already!

My quote for the day: There's a difference between interest and commitment. When you're interested in doing something, you do it only when it's convenient. When you're committed to something, you accept no excuses; only results. (Kenneth Blanchard) - Running is all about commitment. I never consider quitting. Sometimes you just get tired and need to remind yourself why you are putting in the time.

PS: And after all of that, we are on the list for our Botswana adventure in August. Watch this space!