Achieving the Impossible

I have started to read Lewis Pugh’s book, ‘Achieving the Impossible‘. I am only a couple of chapters in and find myself more than thoroughly inspired. If you don’t know Lewis, he is also known as the human polar bear and has spent much of his life attempting the impossible, in terms of long distance swimming. The human polar bear moniker comes from his kilometre swim at one of the poles.


Having my own wild long distance never done before event at the back of my mind, makes this book a very interesting read!

I found myself so inspired that a run at 05h30 this morning seemed to be a brilliant idea. Lewis wrote about long distance running in snow storms. I figured if that was possible, then there was no way I could shirk almost winter morning running.

And so I was on the road at the crack of dawn fumbling my way through the dark and loving every moment!

I so love books that rock my world!

Cat lovers

Last night was fun.

The wind howled and the plants lay flat in subservience. Everything that could fly away did, and the things that could not, flapped in vain to join them. Any washing on the line was redistributed to those downwind of you. My wife and I snuggled in bed, seemingly safe from the worries of the world outside.

And then a creature of that night came inside, something fierce and mean and thoroughly unpleasant. The neighbour’s cat! We are still not sure which neighbour but we will track them down in time. This cat has raged a war of terror on our two cats for the last nine months. This is no ordinary cat. Instead this is a sneaky, street wise fiend.

At approximately 05h31, an almighty commotion took place outside our room. Numerous things crashed and shattered. The transition from dreamland to two paces outside of my bedroom took all of an instant. Asleep on my feet, I realised that something was wrong and with one hand I shut the window that is always left open for the cats. My instinct served me well as a form barrelled down my dark passage. Without a thought I swooped and grabbed this abomination, feeling the joyous slice of claws through my flesh.

I was exhilarated. Nine months of annoyance had resulted in this moment. Hmmm, now what? I had played this scenario over in my mind many times. I had felt the sweet euphoria of dropping this pest into a cat box and ferrying it to the nearest animal shelter. I would then only pay half the money for it to be spayed to ensure that it would be done without anaesthetic! Alas, I had no cat box or a plan and so with great disappointment, I hurled this vermin out of my house. I was rather disappointed, my hands were shredded, and my prey lost. And then I heard the sweet sound of a splash as this rubbish fell into our pool in its haste to leave. I could feel my hands healing as I watched this beast swim back to the side and climb out of the pool.

Last night’s destruction included three framed photographs and an interesting wooden carving completed by my late grandfather many years ago. This rubbish and I will meet again. I have vowed to be better prepared and I guarantee that he will not leave with his nuts intact!

I was saddened by the loss of my grandfathers carving. His memory though will live on in me regardless. As will this amazing image of a cat swimming in my pool!

Swimming Lessons

My oldest son’s school held a championship gala on Friday last week. The idea is that all of the top swimmers in each grade compete against each other.

His first event was a length of freestyle. He and five other competitors mounted the starting blocks. With the ease of seasoned competitors they readied themselves. The starting gun was fired and six splashes ensued. It needs to be said that the competition amongst these six friends is terrifyingly fierce. One of the boys though is head and shoulders above the rest of them though, and there was little doubt that he would be winning everything. That aside, there was no shortage and energy spared in getting to the other side. At the halfway mark, my son was in second, although that may have been my biast parental vision. Then he swam into the wall! He followed that up by swimming into the lane marker and finished a frustrated last.

It transpired that on diving his goggles had come off and rested uselessly on his nose and mouth. These things happen! He was rather disappointed that they could not swim the race again as he had not been able to give his best. He channelled his disappointment into his next race and managed to come second in the breaststroke. Backstroke, a clear non favourite, earned him a fifth place.

When all was done and everyone happy, a prize giving was held. A trophy was handed out to each of the swimmers who had accumulated the most points in their age group. The winner of the under eights, was announced as (big surprise), my son. My wife and I looked at each other and shook our heads. Somebody had made a big bad mistake. On the other side of the pool, my son collected his trophy, and was overjoyed to have his photo taken and then sit with all the other winners.

You can imagine the thoughts going through our heads. We obviously had to fix the mistake as the real winner really needed to be recognised. At the same time, how does one publically remove an award that has been given to a seven year old in a way that he can understand and causes him the least public embarrassment? I guess there really is no way to get that all right.

My wife approached the vice principle (as the principle was still handing out trophies to the right kids). He had the results checked and they found their error. The kid who had accumulated the most points was announced and he too had his picture taken. He then walked over to the rest of the winners.

My son stood up, shook his friends hand and handed over the trophy! Don’t get me wrong, he was very upset. As a dad, I could not have been more proud! My son had just learnt one of life’s tough lessons, that doing the right thing is often more than incredibly difficult (and perhaps that the right thing often does not feel right)!

Three days later and I am still so incredibly proud of the way he handled himself. I hope that as parents, we can assist our sons to build on this strength of character and become forces for good in a world gone mad.