Having a day off from running today after back-to-back weekend Hash runs.
For anyone who hasn't heard of the Hash House Harriers (H3).... it is a non-competitive running club set-up by Brits abroad. It is designed for people to run off the excesses of the weekend. And then to re-indulge in all those excesses at the end of the run. All members have a Hash Tag. And to anyone who have seen hashers running around led by a 'hare' blowing a bugle and periodically shouting 'on, on'....you will understand why the Brits are viewed as eccentric, if not plain weird.
This weekend was no exception. The first run on Saturday was through a Bird Sanctuary. But a proper 'sanctuary' as in...it was in the middle of the bush. There were huge spider webs everywhere (beware yellow females...apparently). So I picked a suitably tall US marine to run behind and off I went not really knowing whether to look down (thus avoiding rocks, snakes, thorn bushes) or up (spiders webs everywhere). I am a city girl and am not really suited to this, but I persevered.
And then the really weird run on Sunday. It was the annual fundraising run for the Cheshire Homes of Lusaka (founded by the famed WW2 Dam Buster Leonard Cheshire). The home in Lusaka provides free orthopaedic operations and care for some severely handicapped children. So, a worthy cause....
BUT, the annual wheelchair run was not a sanitised affair of putting an able-bodied Hasher in a wheelchair and pushing them through central Lusaka....oh no! About 30 handicapped children were 'run' at breakneck speed through the city followed by a flatbed truck to carry those who couldn't walk and didn't have a wheelchair. The truck probably hadn't seen a professional mechanic in the past 20 years and as for seatbelts - Ha! This was full on fundraising and with the amount raised I assume the means justified the ends.
As a runner who didn't push a wheelchaired child, I led the runners and ran most of the checkpoints in the African midday sun. As I was shouting...checking 1, checking 2...On, On, I realised I am as bloody weird as the rest of them....
If you would like to donate to this worthwhile cause, you can do so online at....
http://www.justgiving.com/LH3WheelchairRun2013
Monday, 25 March 2013
Friday, 22 March 2013
Hunky Dory
I still think the world is made for my generation: I have an ipad; I listen to Maroon 5; and I am on level 37 of Smurf's Village. Ergo, I belong in the 21st Century. On the other hand, I have also lived through 7 British Prime Ministers; 8 US Presidents; numerous war-like-NATO-supported invasions of countries I've never visited; God only knows how many episodes of Friends, and the ra-ra skirt. I can also recollect all phases of Madonna's career.
In other words, I've been around for a while, but can keep up sufficiently with modern culture and technological innovations to still feel 'in touch'. Or so I think. Every once in a while something happens which makes me realise I am kidding myself....
....So, I've got the kids in the car and I play some 'drive time' music. On goes the best of George Michael (and Wham!). We are all happily singing along to 'wake me up before you gogo' when I realise it's close to 30 years old. OMG where has the time gone? In FB Timeline terms, this is the equivalent of my mum playing Glen Miller and Bing Crosby to me back in the 1970s. How has this happened?
Right now, my kids are still young enough to think that I am the best thing since sliced bread. They think it great that they (and their mates) see me running around their school track in the morning. But I realise I am on borrowed time...soon my plodding will become a source of huge embarrassment. As they transition from 'young' to 'youth', I fear I will soon see how uncool I really am. In the meantime, I'm off to download the latest Bowie album...
In other words, I've been around for a while, but can keep up sufficiently with modern culture and technological innovations to still feel 'in touch'. Or so I think. Every once in a while something happens which makes me realise I am kidding myself....
....So, I've got the kids in the car and I play some 'drive time' music. On goes the best of George Michael (and Wham!). We are all happily singing along to 'wake me up before you gogo' when I realise it's close to 30 years old. OMG where has the time gone? In FB Timeline terms, this is the equivalent of my mum playing Glen Miller and Bing Crosby to me back in the 1970s. How has this happened?
Right now, my kids are still young enough to think that I am the best thing since sliced bread. They think it great that they (and their mates) see me running around their school track in the morning. But I realise I am on borrowed time...soon my plodding will become a source of huge embarrassment. As they transition from 'young' to 'youth', I fear I will soon see how uncool I really am. In the meantime, I'm off to download the latest Bowie album...
Tuesday, 19 March 2013
Living as a cavewoman
You don't need a degree in nutrition to know that my diet is way too full of processed flour and sugar. I love cake, cookies, bread - any dough will do. Having run off some of my excess poundage, I have found my consumption of food (especially of the unhealthy kind) steadily climbing. And with it, my weight...
Let's take last Saturday. It was my daughter's birthday party. Having spent 3 hours entertaining a bunch of 8 year old girls, my husband and I sought out some adult company. We found an Anglo-American soiree which welcomed us with open arms and bottles. I proceeded to drink a few gallons of red wine and, at about midnight, the hostess tried to sober us all up with platefuls of mac 'n' cheese. Never has reconstituted pasta and cheese powder tasted so good. Or at least, I think it did, I don't really remember much. And actually, it might not be a good example of why my weight is increasing as, according to my husband, I threw it all up when I got home...tally ho!
But something must have clicked physiologically. As I have a sudden urge to purge my diet of gluten and sugar. And, through a Facebook friend, I have discovered the Palaeolithic diet. The theory is to go back to our true biological dietary needs rather than rely on modern farming produce. So, lots of seeds, fruits, veggies, nuts, eggs and meat (although there are both vegetarian and vegan versions of the diet). No bread, no refined sugar and no cereals or grains.
Anyway, there are some great recipe websites which I discovered through the FB friend and yesterday I made my first Paleo recipe....peanut butter Blondies (as opposed to Brownies). You mix together large quantities of peanut butter, dark chocolate and honey with an egg, baking soda and salt et voila, 20 minutes later you have a gluten free, fat-laden cake. So, family loves Paleo diet so far... Today, I will be dipping frozen banana pieces into molten dark chocolate....feel healthier, more cavewoman like already...uga, uga, bunkum!
Let's take last Saturday. It was my daughter's birthday party. Having spent 3 hours entertaining a bunch of 8 year old girls, my husband and I sought out some adult company. We found an Anglo-American soiree which welcomed us with open arms and bottles. I proceeded to drink a few gallons of red wine and, at about midnight, the hostess tried to sober us all up with platefuls of mac 'n' cheese. Never has reconstituted pasta and cheese powder tasted so good. Or at least, I think it did, I don't really remember much. And actually, it might not be a good example of why my weight is increasing as, according to my husband, I threw it all up when I got home...tally ho!
But something must have clicked physiologically. As I have a sudden urge to purge my diet of gluten and sugar. And, through a Facebook friend, I have discovered the Palaeolithic diet. The theory is to go back to our true biological dietary needs rather than rely on modern farming produce. So, lots of seeds, fruits, veggies, nuts, eggs and meat (although there are both vegetarian and vegan versions of the diet). No bread, no refined sugar and no cereals or grains.
Anyway, there are some great recipe websites which I discovered through the FB friend and yesterday I made my first Paleo recipe....peanut butter Blondies (as opposed to Brownies). You mix together large quantities of peanut butter, dark chocolate and honey with an egg, baking soda and salt et voila, 20 minutes later you have a gluten free, fat-laden cake. So, family loves Paleo diet so far... Today, I will be dipping frozen banana pieces into molten dark chocolate....feel healthier, more cavewoman like already...uga, uga, bunkum!
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
The Marathon Marriage
Running well again this week. Thankfully. Need something to keep me buoyed up. If I relied on my husband to add to my self-esteem I would be a quivering wreck. It should have been a great weekend: daughter had 8th birthday; it was Mothering Sunday and a bank holiday. Fat chance... I was left to arrange everything for the birthday, Mothering Sunday was overlooked (again) and we did nothing of any note. The most penetrating conversation we had was which plates I was planning to use for the dinner.
I had a great job when I met my husband and earned as much as he did. I spend lots of time agonising about my current lack of economic worth. The last time we moved, I got a job. We needed the money and I needed to feel like the sum of my existence was greater than my ability to create 101 pasta dishes. But here I am again: jobless, virtually husbandless and in a strange land without any support.
As I've said before on this blog, one of the reasons that running has become so important is that I respect myself for it. If all else is going wrong, I have this one thing which I have succeeded at for the day. Today, I ran 27 laps (about 7 km) which ain't too bad for a bird my age....
I had a great job when I met my husband and earned as much as he did. I spend lots of time agonising about my current lack of economic worth. The last time we moved, I got a job. We needed the money and I needed to feel like the sum of my existence was greater than my ability to create 101 pasta dishes. But here I am again: jobless, virtually husbandless and in a strange land without any support.
As I've said before on this blog, one of the reasons that running has become so important is that I respect myself for it. If all else is going wrong, I have this one thing which I have succeeded at for the day. Today, I ran 27 laps (about 7 km) which ain't too bad for a bird my age....
Monday, 4 March 2013
In the name of Plod
I had a spectacular running week last week. I coped with my extra lap and just enjoyed the run. I've also started well this week. I felt good running today and their were lots of women on the track. Hats off to all you ladies....
It takes a lot of guts to grasp the exercise nettle. Apart from the sheer determination and single-mindedness required to motivate yourself, you also have to overcome the way you feel about the way you look. I am still self-conscious about the way I run. I don't think of myself as a runner. But rather as someone who endures plodding around the track in the interests of physical and psychological self-preservation. I try not to question if my bum looks big and wobbles while I plod. I've known the answer for years....yes, yes it does.
If I'd had the discipline, I would have introduced a private exercise regime. I would have bought a DVD or a home treadmill. But I can't exercise at home. There are too many other things to do. I had to have the discipline to just arrive at the gym each day with my kit. Once there, I knew what I had to do. But it was the 'getting there every day' bit which required the single-mindedness.
I exercised slowly and alone at the treadmill for almost 6 months, before I had the confidence to go to a class. And it was 10 months before I felt up to publicly running on a track. On the track, you are on 'display' not just to other runners and walkers but also those who are just going about their normal daily business. Unlike you, they are not lycraed up and puffing and panting. They are elegant, well-dressed and made-up.
I felt and still feel intimidated about exercising in public. I have not yet managed to road run or to enter any competitions. But I like to think I'm getting there, albeit slowly.
It takes a lot of guts to grasp the exercise nettle. Apart from the sheer determination and single-mindedness required to motivate yourself, you also have to overcome the way you feel about the way you look. I am still self-conscious about the way I run. I don't think of myself as a runner. But rather as someone who endures plodding around the track in the interests of physical and psychological self-preservation. I try not to question if my bum looks big and wobbles while I plod. I've known the answer for years....yes, yes it does.
If I'd had the discipline, I would have introduced a private exercise regime. I would have bought a DVD or a home treadmill. But I can't exercise at home. There are too many other things to do. I had to have the discipline to just arrive at the gym each day with my kit. Once there, I knew what I had to do. But it was the 'getting there every day' bit which required the single-mindedness.
I exercised slowly and alone at the treadmill for almost 6 months, before I had the confidence to go to a class. And it was 10 months before I felt up to publicly running on a track. On the track, you are on 'display' not just to other runners and walkers but also those who are just going about their normal daily business. Unlike you, they are not lycraed up and puffing and panting. They are elegant, well-dressed and made-up.
I felt and still feel intimidated about exercising in public. I have not yet managed to road run or to enter any competitions. But I like to think I'm getting there, albeit slowly.
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