Monday, January 13, 2020
Saturday, May 5, 2012
A day in the life of ...
Some wise or cynical person once coined the phrase 'Time waits for no man' and I can indeed confirm that he or she was spot on with that observation. As I believe all who read this post can well attest to.
I started this blog four years ago to try and motivate myself to be a runner. My goal was to be fit and healthy, lean and mean when I hit the big FIVE OH.
Well four years later I am still trying and failing to be a runner. I have managed a handful of 10km slogs at great physical cost and even more blows to my ego. This morning I went for a 5 kilometre walk/jog and felt the same after that as most people feel after doing a marathon. I believe I should just accept that running is not one of my life skills.
So I have decided to re-open this blog as a sort of Zen activity to calm me down after a long day at the office and to type my daily experiences in this little village called Cape Town, South Africa. It may be mundane, it may be profound .....but probably not... but it will be mainly for me... sort of like keeping a diary but a shared one so I cannot write all my dirty little thoughts (yes, I sometimes have those), I cannot hang the washing out on the line and of course I will not write down my ATM pin number .
Now, duty calls as I have a small website I write for called www.purepunting.com and yes, that is one of my many vices. I love horse racing and you will slowly discover all my vices over the next few weeks.
Until next time....
I started this blog four years ago to try and motivate myself to be a runner. My goal was to be fit and healthy, lean and mean when I hit the big FIVE OH.
Well four years later I am still trying and failing to be a runner. I have managed a handful of 10km slogs at great physical cost and even more blows to my ego. This morning I went for a 5 kilometre walk/jog and felt the same after that as most people feel after doing a marathon. I believe I should just accept that running is not one of my life skills.
So I have decided to re-open this blog as a sort of Zen activity to calm me down after a long day at the office and to type my daily experiences in this little village called Cape Town, South Africa. It may be mundane, it may be profound .....but probably not... but it will be mainly for me... sort of like keeping a diary but a shared one so I cannot write all my dirty little thoughts (yes, I sometimes have those), I cannot hang the washing out on the line and of course I will not write down my ATM pin number .
Now, duty calls as I have a small website I write for called www.purepunting.com and yes, that is one of my many vices. I love horse racing and you will slowly discover all my vices over the next few weeks.
Until next time....
Thursday, September 4, 2008
In Abstentia
Long time no type, but after my last jogging experience I needed some time off... like a long long time off. So I hid my takkies where my partner could not find them, concocted a fearsome story as to how I had been mugged by a tribe of leather eating widgets who stole my running shoes, and settled back into my sedentary lifestyle again.
Now, I have to tell you about my woman. She is petite, gentle, loving and caring. Alas she is also TENACIOUS... like extremely tenacious when she has set her sights on achieving a goal, or changing the world... or as in this case ... changing me. More specifically my sedentary lifestyle and my carefully constructed physique profile... from fat to flat !!!
It started with a small heart shaped note on my pillow...'You are invited to an intimate breakfast for two. Be ready at 07h00, and wear shoes...... Your Lover'... Now three words caught my eye immediately.. Intimate..my heart leaped, my blood pressure rose... Breakfast... I started salivating... shoes... my jaw dropped and my toes cringed. ShOES?? She knows I don't wear shoes. I reread the note, turned it over , sniffed it... checked the handwriting again. Looked and smelt authentic. At this stage I started getting mildly anxious.... but decided to focus on the positive.. intimate and breakfast in the same sentence.With visions of body chocolate and featherbeds drifting in and out of my mind like metronome clouds I climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.
It was still dark when I was rudely awakened by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I glanced at the clock as I reached for the phone... 06h30. Who was disturbing my beauty sleep at this ungodly hour ? " What?" I growled into the phone speaker. My sweet ladies voice suddenly reminded me that I had an appointment at 07h00. Suitably chastened, I told her I would fetch her at 07h00... and yes, I would be wearing shoes. Rolling off the bed, I stumbled to the kitchen for my caffeine fix, treading on the cat's tail as I went.
Now, I have to tell you about my woman. She is petite, gentle, loving and caring. Alas she is also TENACIOUS... like extremely tenacious when she has set her sights on achieving a goal, or changing the world... or as in this case ... changing me. More specifically my sedentary lifestyle and my carefully constructed physique profile... from fat to flat !!!
It started with a small heart shaped note on my pillow...'You are invited to an intimate breakfast for two. Be ready at 07h00, and wear shoes...... Your Lover'... Now three words caught my eye immediately.. Intimate..my heart leaped, my blood pressure rose... Breakfast... I started salivating... shoes... my jaw dropped and my toes cringed. ShOES?? She knows I don't wear shoes. I reread the note, turned it over , sniffed it... checked the handwriting again. Looked and smelt authentic. At this stage I started getting mildly anxious.... but decided to focus on the positive.. intimate and breakfast in the same sentence.With visions of body chocolate and featherbeds drifting in and out of my mind like metronome clouds I climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.
It was still dark when I was rudely awakened by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I glanced at the clock as I reached for the phone... 06h30. Who was disturbing my beauty sleep at this ungodly hour ? " What?" I growled into the phone speaker. My sweet ladies voice suddenly reminded me that I had an appointment at 07h00. Suitably chastened, I told her I would fetch her at 07h00... and yes, I would be wearing shoes. Rolling off the bed, I stumbled to the kitchen for my caffeine fix, treading on the cat's tail as I went.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Life's lessons - 29 March
So in my new 'galvanised' state, I hauled my notebook out and devised a training plan. To put things in perspective, a jog from my front door to my car would be termed a 'hard' workout in my current shape. So a training plan could very well include things like 'Hard' day is "Take a walk PAST the fridge on four occasions without sampling the contents". An 'Easy' day would be 'Use manual wine bottle opener to remove cork from Sauvignon Blanc bottle instead of electric opener'. I am, to put it kindly, in bad shape.
Saturday dawned an absolute pearler here in Cape Town. I could actually appreciate this as I exited my home wearing takkies (sneakers / cross trainers) and T-shirt and shorts. The plan was to take a leisurely 7.5 km jog. As I set off the thought did cross my mind that getting up early and out of the house was not exactly unpleasant.
The first up gradient I met was 50 metres from the front gate, and I tackled it manfully. Huffing n puffing I strode on at a magnificent pace which I maintained relentlessly. The first indication I had that my progress was not as swift as I believed, was when a woman pushing a perambulator passed me, a child on her hip, another in the pram waving a golden brown teddy bear to all and sundry. At first I admired the elegant manner in which her hips sashayed from side to side nothwithstanding the burden on one of them, then a smile of appreciation crossed my lips at the shapeliness of her lightly tanned gastrocnemius muscles. As the gap between us widened it dawned on me that the lass was walking rather fast....... then two young lads dressed in boy scout outfits walked by me, one on either side, laughing loudly at some shared joke. As they rapidly moved off and the sound of their chatter faded away I became aware of a rhythmic 'pshht pshht' sound. It was the sound of my shoes shuffling along beneath my not insignificant girth. My magnificent stride was no longer. My progress was negligible and my goal was rapidly being re-evaluated. Staggering to a stop, I bent forward and placed my hands on my knees and gracefully jettisoned my morning coffee, some twisted part of my mind trying to read shapes in the splash as one would read clouds.
It was a long walk home, probably the longest 600 metres of my life. My youth seems to have left for good, and the only memory I have of it is the damage to my old body left by the abuse handed out by my younger self. Clearly I needed another plan.
Saturday dawned an absolute pearler here in Cape Town. I could actually appreciate this as I exited my home wearing takkies (sneakers / cross trainers) and T-shirt and shorts. The plan was to take a leisurely 7.5 km jog. As I set off the thought did cross my mind that getting up early and out of the house was not exactly unpleasant.
The first up gradient I met was 50 metres from the front gate, and I tackled it manfully. Huffing n puffing I strode on at a magnificent pace which I maintained relentlessly. The first indication I had that my progress was not as swift as I believed, was when a woman pushing a perambulator passed me, a child on her hip, another in the pram waving a golden brown teddy bear to all and sundry. At first I admired the elegant manner in which her hips sashayed from side to side nothwithstanding the burden on one of them, then a smile of appreciation crossed my lips at the shapeliness of her lightly tanned gastrocnemius muscles. As the gap between us widened it dawned on me that the lass was walking rather fast....... then two young lads dressed in boy scout outfits walked by me, one on either side, laughing loudly at some shared joke. As they rapidly moved off and the sound of their chatter faded away I became aware of a rhythmic 'pshht pshht' sound. It was the sound of my shoes shuffling along beneath my not insignificant girth. My magnificent stride was no longer. My progress was negligible and my goal was rapidly being re-evaluated. Staggering to a stop, I bent forward and placed my hands on my knees and gracefully jettisoned my morning coffee, some twisted part of my mind trying to read shapes in the splash as one would read clouds.
It was a long walk home, probably the longest 600 metres of my life. My youth seems to have left for good, and the only memory I have of it is the damage to my old body left by the abuse handed out by my younger self. Clearly I needed another plan.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
New beginnings.... new horizons.... new shape....
I was sitting comfortably slouched, sipping on a cold brew at my local watering hole..... my lovely lady sitting opposite me. I was feeling good, having just had a good win on the bowling green. The sun was shining, wild flower fragrance permeated the air and there was no pressing business to be done.... ahhhh, heaven is.
And then my woman made what she thought was an innoccuos (how the hell do you spell that word??) remark..... "you know, bowlers all have funny bodies, bellies hanging over their belts, slightly slouched and stooped"... she paused and then carried on... "except for the two you played against. They were rather slim and upright".
I doubt she noticed the fact that I stopped breathing, but I did. I was mortified, horrified..... in fact every 'fied' thats known to man. My opponents were 30 years my senior... and I was under the (obvious) illusion that I was in great shape. Pulling in my midriff, slowly lowering my beer to the table, I sat upright. Before I could open my mouth... my lady suddenly realised her gaff, and blurted out..."My love, that did not include you of course. You do have a bit of a boep.... but I still love your body" reaching out to pat my hand, still damp from the chilled beer glass.
Well dear reader, where the heck is this going you may ask ? Good question ? It is going direct to the heart of the matter. My ego, damaged self image and my love of the good things in life (ok, that's quite a few heart of matters..)
At that very moment I did some real soul searching, had a good look in the mirror and actually saw myself in the flesh, as opposed to my image of what I was. I saw an ageing, pot bellied male. I was shocked. I was galvanised into mental action .....
And this is the start .....
And then my woman made what she thought was an innoccuos (how the hell do you spell that word??) remark..... "you know, bowlers all have funny bodies, bellies hanging over their belts, slightly slouched and stooped"... she paused and then carried on... "except for the two you played against. They were rather slim and upright".
I doubt she noticed the fact that I stopped breathing, but I did. I was mortified, horrified..... in fact every 'fied' thats known to man. My opponents were 30 years my senior... and I was under the (obvious) illusion that I was in great shape. Pulling in my midriff, slowly lowering my beer to the table, I sat upright. Before I could open my mouth... my lady suddenly realised her gaff, and blurted out..."My love, that did not include you of course. You do have a bit of a boep.... but I still love your body" reaching out to pat my hand, still damp from the chilled beer glass.
Well dear reader, where the heck is this going you may ask ? Good question ? It is going direct to the heart of the matter. My ego, damaged self image and my love of the good things in life (ok, that's quite a few heart of matters..)
At that very moment I did some real soul searching, had a good look in the mirror and actually saw myself in the flesh, as opposed to my image of what I was. I saw an ageing, pot bellied male. I was shocked. I was galvanised into mental action .....
And this is the start .....
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