Just 100 minutes

The first morning of my romantic weekend away, I slipped out of bed, and headed for a special place in the Knysna forest. Today was a day to be tested. To see, if I was good enough.

 A year ago to this day, I had been standing on the same spot, wondering the same things. Then I could feel very little as the effects of strong drugs still leisurely cruised my bloodstream. Drugs that had tried hard to fight a tooth abscess and failed dismally. The run was my worst ever, most of it spent locked in a mental battle to put one foot in front of the other.

Four years ago, on my departure from executive mayhem, I set myself 10 life goals to achieve over the next five years. One of those goals was to run a half marathon (21 kilometres) in under 100 minutes. This was my year to set the record straight.

The race started well but I could feel myself tiring with six kilometres to go. Three kilometres later and the tank was empty, time was slipping away. I shared a word of encouragement with a walker, not sure if it was for me or for him. I really wanted to join him. Instead he started to run again, pacing me, both of us with nothing left to give, stride for stride, until at last the finish was behind us. With 19 seconds to spare!

It felt good to achieve a goal which has eluded me for years. It also felt good to have helped somebody else achieve the same goal, although I hope he felt the same way about me, because I could not have done it without him. I often share my strong mind overcomes everything philosophy with my children. This goal required me to live it and it was much tougher than expected. When all was done, I could not believe how close I had come to giving up. Sometimes success requires a short wallow in pain, and pushing through to the other side.

I am glad it was tough. If it had been easy, the goal would simply not have been tough enough. And what is the point of only doing things that are easy?

Madly in love

Mountains wreathed in mist overlook rolling farmlands clothed in iridescent green. Fields of bright yellow Canola stand tall in their prearranged positions in grandma’s patchwork quilt. Wild flowers grow in abundance along the sides of roads, and big splashes colour vast tracts of land. The normally ugly aloe, now in full orange flower, infuses the landscape with joy. 

The Western Cape is a beautiful place but right now, simply breathtaking.  A marvel to anyone with a moment to look out of the window!

It all pales in significance though, compared to the love I feel for the woman who sits beside me. Donna and I have managed to sneak off to Knysna for a romantic weekend for two. All made possible by my mother who in a moment of madness agreed to look after our three children.

Just two days sans the normal responsibilities of life and plans of any sort have refreshed and revitalised us in many special ways. This is time we so needed and yet could not find. It is also time we have to search for as often as possible in the future, because the benefits are tremendous.

Hopefully we will return home better parents than we left. More importantly, we will return home with bonds of love that have been retied and knotted a little tighter. Bonds which will see us through the good and bad times in a society where marriage seems doomed to failure.

As the flowers of the Cape reach toward the sun and together form a dizzying display, so too I hope my marriage together with all of the other g.ood marriages out there inspire those who are struggling

Running and running and running

So I ran the 21km in Knysna. My wife thought it was a bad idea. The tooth doctor saw no harm. I was there...

The only reason I considered running is that the most amazing thing happened to me on Thursday morning. I spent about 10 minutes psyching myself up to blow my nose, an activity that had grown to be intensely painful. Throwing caution to the wind, I gave it an incredibly hard blow. The result was that my gum burst, releasing all of my pent up pain in a stream of pus. A monster size abscess, that I did not know I had, was now no more.

Yeah, I know; it does not sound good, but boy did it feel wonderful.

Saturday morning saw me at the start of the Knysna half. I was excited and feeling good. I got off to a great start and ran 14 good kilometres at a great pace. I was still on track to beat my target when all of the wheels fell off. I just hit ran out of energy; the tank was completely empty. I guess my special tooth week had sapped all of my resources.

The next 7 kilometers, became a mental game of putting one foot in front of the other. It was incredibly tough and took me forever. I got to the end in a time that was well over my target but still a good bit under two hours. It was not a great run by any means, but in retrospect was brilliant considering the context.

There are two takeouts to this story; I need to treat the mental debarcle as a fantastic training opportunity for my Kilimanjaro climb at the end of the year and I must listen to my wife more often!