I really do enjoy riding to work at this time of year. Sure, I’d rather be out riding somewhere interesting and not doing the usual grind to the office, but the weather is mild, the roads are quiet and the changerooms at the office aren’t busy.
What’s to complain about?
Add to that, the fact that both motorists and PT users aren’t having the best experiences at the moment, I suppose it’s a bit of a no brainer to ride.
If only it could be like this all year…
Maybe it’s something to do with the (relatively) wet weather we’ve been having of late.
Or maybe it’s the short days.
But the last few weeks, I’ve been living in a bit of a funk. Interestingly, I hadn’t even realised that I was experiencing it. On reflection, I’m pretty sure I was eating more, watching more TV and riding less.
Would you believe it? I even gained a little weight. This is significant because the phenomenon of winter insulation is something I haven’t noticably experienced before.
It’s just a little bit scary…
Not to matter, it appears that with the rather nice weather we’re having this week, I’m more or less back on track. On track for what, I have no idea, but I’m sitting here today with that familiar feeling of oh-so-tired muscles.
And IT’S GOOD.
It has occurred to me, once again, that one should not promise to pray unless one is actually going to do it.
Or, if we just shift that around a little: if one should agree to pray for someone, one ought to make good on that.
I hope that in heaven there’s no list of the things you said you’d pray for (or the things you said you’d do, for that matter) but didn’t.
And if there isn’t a list, you won’t be on it.
I mean, if there is a list, I don’t want you to be on it.
I mean… I will pray for you.
Love you lots. I think everything is going to be well.
So it’s now the morning of the Puffing Billy Train race and I’m sitting here waiting to catch a train (a metro one so that I can get to the start line).
The last 12 hours leading up to this event has been rather challenging for me. No, no, it’s not pre-race nerves. I’m not taking this THAT seriously. It’s just that I’ve got myself into a bit of a fuddle regarding clothing.
Now when I’m on the bike, I can generally check the weather, look outside and know precisely what I’m going to wear for a certain ride. On the other hand, with running, having only been doing it properly for a few months, I have absolutely no idea what to wear for the colder times of the year. Not only that, I have absolutely no idea what to wear for a colder event, which I intend on running quite hard.
I think it comes from the fact that I generally am quite bad at running, so I’m pretty precious about not being too cold, as well as not overheating. On the bike, I can generally fake my way through most rides in the odd event that I’m not properly attired.
Running on the other hand… well… things need to be perfect.
Hope this works out…
It’s scary being brave, and even embarrassing. But maybe it’s good for me.
I’m tired of being scared of everything.
And in a very strange way, I’m kind of enjoying the edge. I’ve never been here before, and why not just throw myself over? I think it might be a little to do with shifting to the new spot as well. The other world just didn’t have enough brave to it at all. Not any brave. Even in the new spot, it’s got to be brave in different things. Initiating. Leading. Acting. Being humble.
Horribly humble, like they would only ever expect you to be in a place like the new spot. Old world would never have asked you for that. Everyone just ignored it in everyone else. Bad habit, really. It’s… really very strange just totally accepting it from another person and then not holding it against them at all. And not a partner, not family, not even a friend.
Very, very weird.
The edge is a funny place to be, and I’m not even that close to it yet.
Hello, God. What next?
So one of my friends was recently diagnosed with lupus. I’m sure it happens ‘all the time’ elsewhere, but like everybody thinks, it won’t happen in my world. Especially since it’s rare, or rare-ish… right? But I guess it did.
Is this sort of thing really so random? Just… by chance perhaps, this one person and not the other. Her not me. Genetics? Luck? It started with a seemingly-unconnected bout of food poisoning overseas, followed by a month or so of loss of appetite, unsettled stomach, a bit of nausea, etc. Could it possibly be lingering after-effects of food poisoning? Then why didn’t the antibiotics help, and why couldn’t the doctors figure it out?
Then the hospital tests and biopsies and then the diagnosis. “I’d never even heard of it before they told me,” she said, incredulously. “I was like, No way, you can catch that from an undercooked dumpling?” Even when I hung out with her in hospital for a weekend, she made me smile.
No flowers for you girl, you don’t need pretty boringness like that, you want LEGO!
But I digress.
We were only starting to become friends, too. We’re working together in the new spot, and it was a new spot for both of us, so we had something in common. Both finding our feet, figuring out what the place was like, hoping for friends.
How many SMS messages and random emails and stupid Drawsome pics do you think it takes before you become friends?
It has been very sobering, actually, to be this close to something so life-changing. It will now factor into all their plans – all of them, forever. Well, not if God miraculously heals, but let’s just say for now that He doesn’t.
You know, I don’t think I would ever have wished it on anybody, and certainly not her, and I’m not glad it is in any way affecting anyone I know and care for… but I am grateful. I am grateful that it wasn’t me. When you think about it, that’s a kind of terrible thing to say. But it’s true.
I think I wrote this… Sunday 25th March. It’s taken me a long time to come back here.
—–
This one is for you, my secret reader. =)
I guess it was kind of silly of me to stop writing, right there on the brink of the change. It had to have happened though, you knew that, otherwise there would surely have followed another entry of disappointment and musings on the whys and the might-have-beens. Maybe I’m naturally more inclined towards toward the entries of disappointment… now why would that be?? =P
You too though, right? =)
But, eight weeks almost to the day from when I hit ‘submit’ – for the first of 3 (metaphorical) times – the call came. Friday, a good day. I picked up the phone and dived into a meeting room the same way I always had… and plunged into the new busyness of finishing, and of starting, and of falling into a swirling hive of another world.
They said it was faith-based, and I knew it would be different, and they said not to expect too much, and in a way I expected more of the same of what I had known – how could it be that much different? But it was. And they were.
And I walked through hallways where the Father’s promises spread like banners above a field of green – and He created them male and female, in His own image He created them… let justice roll down like mighty waters, righteousness like an ever-flowing stream… He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more sorrow or crying or pain…
Everyone else walked around casually like they didn’t see the wonder of living under these declarations day after day, but it made my heart beat strangely, and already for me, I wanted that to last.
Interlude: Oh, hon, I just saw the funniest thing. I have to ’fess up, I’m writing in the outdoor area of a McDonalds (yes, I ate their breakfast food, let’s not judge, shall we? =P) and a tiny mixed kid was trotting confidently barefoot past me carrying a takeaway bag, when the largest crow in the world suddenly swooped down and landed on the rubbish bin in front of him. It paused only a second there and took off again, but that kid stopped stock still so suddenly and raised his hands so quickly to his face that his bottle of juice fell out of his bag. I suppose I shouldn’t have laughed. Then his mother was there, picking up the juice and scooping him up in her arms and he stared at me over her shoulder with huge eyes. Not a whimper though. Tough kid – I’d be scared of a crow whose length outstripped the width of my shoulders, too.
Ah… so yes, the new spot.
They think they’ve come a long way toward corporate in the last 5 years or so, and I gather not everyone has been pleased with that, but I tell you, coming the other way, it’s still a pretty big gap.
There’s the lack of hierarchical social restrictions, for one. To be sure, in corporate there were those who chatted to GMs and MDs, but many a time there was also present some wariness – part guarded, part assessment and part, well… part suck-up.
Then there’s the very relational, conversational, café style of lobbying, decision-making and allocation. A little frightening for those of us who want to come in with charts and graphs and formulae.
And this one’s petty – but their spelling and grammar is truly horrific. That is all I have to say about that.
But still, hon. Still.
People pray together, and sometimes they weep as they do so. Senior leadership commit every meeting and strategy session to the oversight of God as they open in prayer. People call each other on their behaviour and attitude toward others, at all levels of the organisation. Managers stand in farewell afternoon teas with tears in their eyes and say to their friend and colleague, “I’m so sorry to see you go. I confess that I was part of the decision-making team, and it shouldn’t be this way.”
Sure, it’s normal here, but it is also extraordinary.
—–
It took me a long time to put this together, secret reader. Help me remember to be grateful.
So it seems that in a moment of insanity, I’ve signed up to do the Puffing Billy Great Train Race. That’s right… no wheels… no gears… a foot race.
Now I’m under no illusions about actually beating the train, given that it apparently completes the course in just over 50 minutes, but I do intend on trying to set a decent time.
Now I’m largely unconcerned about the distance I already know that I can do the distance, but there is one thing that is playing on my mind.
The hills…
Well no… it’s actually the first hill… the downhill part.
An interesting aspect of the PB run is that it actually starts on a downhill and quite a substantial one at that. Like most people, I really enjoy the feeling of blasting effortlessly down a hill, but the fact that this long and steep downhill is so early in the run absolutely terrifies me. That’s because I’m in the fourth and last group to start.
The slow group.
The newbies.
The plodders.
The over-reachers.
Now I don’t resent the fact that I’ve been classified in this group because I’ve only been running seriously for about a month and I’m not that quick, but I am expecting chaos. I’ve been at the start line of a few too many mass participation sports events and I know that there are always people taking things a little bit too seriously at the blunt end of the field. And that’s when the accidents happen.
The thought of someone stepping on me as we head down the down the first hill scares me. Heck, the thought of someone taking a spill and subsequently wiping me out scares me.
I really hope nothing happens…
