Advice from a tree.

This comes up time and time again ....and it always makes me smile!

I guess I'm a pantheist at heart, I still touch wood fervently in true aptotropaic style anytime I don't want to jinx myself, which apparently dates back to English folklore where trees were honoured as it was believed they housed benevolent spirits.... so I suppose this would particularly appeal to me.

It's just getting that hydration intake line in which I find so clever...love yourself, sure, a multitude of inspirational quotations say that...but drink enough water...pure genius.

Happy Republic Day!

Photo by Magikindian

HAPPY REPUBLIC DAY T&T

It’s always been with fierce pride that I’ve observed the Trinidad flag.  From when Prince Phillip visited my international school in Belgium and my five year old self was decked out in red, white and black, to seeing the Trinbagonian flag waving when our Olympians managed to pip the Jamaicans to the post and hit that podium, seeing the striking colours always used to bring tears to my eyes.  A nostalgic longing for the land of my birth, perhaps?  An association with my father?  Having another place to belong to when my meltedness within the West London melting pot didn’t feel too comfortable?

However, now I live here, I no longer cry when I see the flag or hear the anthem (well, with the heavy nationalism, I’d never have a dry eye…) but seeing the flag fluttering patriotically, in contrast with a blue and white sky still fills me with joy…and pride that this tiny dot of an island had the guts to demand total independence.

And let’s not forget it’s another national holiday…a day to train, lime and love up my children, and maybe, just maybe catch up on my work….

Emotional Hangovers :-S

In our household we regularly suffer from what I call an ‘emotional hangover’.  What is this predicament, you may well ask…and does it involve alcohol?

An emotional hangover is the consequence of over stimulation.  The sensitive souls that we are means that following an excess of excitement, interaction…noise particularly… we feel emotionally bruised the next day. 

So, following a delightful birthday, where I made sure to answer every single birthday greeting in a personal manner….ending with one of those jolly, Chinese food eating, wine drinking, family get togethers where everyone talks at once at the top of their voice ….we all got struck the following day..

How is this manifest?  The answer is different for each individual.

The youngest member of the clan did not wish to wake up and go to his home education centre.  He displayed this by shouting, “no” numerous times, with no further explanation of what he was rejecting, and the tremulous emotion rich quality of his voice sent signals to some primordial part of my brain creating a feeling in me of fear and trepidation.  He then went back to bed for five hours before resurfacing ready to at least deal with the less challenging cyber worlds of Minecraft and Toontowne Revisted.  By the evening his spirits seemed to have made a full recovery.

The next character went into school, but spent the day running from noise and wiping away tears.  By pick up time she was a total mess, distraught about every aspect of day as well as the many challenges of being in the Form 5 exam year she is in.  Every nerve appeared to be jangling within her, and I feared a massive meltdown.  However, on reaching home she crashed out on the sofa, music blaring, then woke up and created an oil pastel drawing of a face and background which clearly demonstrated the overstimulation she’d suffered, with bold black marks showing where on her face she’d physically felt the effects of excess.

As for me, I just got into a grumpy mood and ended up quarrelling with people on whatsapp, and getting highly frustrating with my Standard 4 students who feel Art class is synonymous with circus time.  I did feel a heaviness somewhere around the back of my neck, a kind of pre-flu feeling, and a constant background noise seemed to be circling within my head.   Some of the many beneficent birthday greetings had dredged up less pleasant details from my past so these were hovering around my subconscious colliding with present happenings, not too favourably at times.  It was a basic ‘bleuh’ feeling, which I knew would pass, but wasn’t too enjoyable to live through.

This all links to the fact we have sensory processing disorders, to a greater or lesser extent.  My son is probably the most extreme, most clearly exemplified by his projectile vomiting every time I took him to a mall as a toddler…but my daughter and I can suffer equally.  I had to beg my students just today to accommodate my disability by not drumming on the table while I spoke as it was distracting me to the point of total confusion.  As for the girl, for her it’s largely manifest by her being in the presence of too many people…often at school, but now it surfaces at parties where she loses her balance and has to be literally caught by her friends.

I’m sure everyone suffers from this to a greater or lesser extent and it’s probably often masked by drink or drug related hangovers.  But it’s useful to identify the need sometimes to process…the necessity of taking a little time to settle after a highly stimulating experience.  And to understand that as fulfilling and enjoyable social occasions can be, especially for extroverts such as myself, there can be a temporary knock on effect which is probably not worth acting on except to rest, reflect and take some time out.

Happy Birthday....to me!

I'd just like to take this opportunity to wish myself a very happy birthday!  It's been quite a year with 5ks, a 10k, duathlons and triathlons.  I've had a wonderful work life and social life, and I'm halfway through my second Masters...in International Education this time. My children have grown and faced a number of challenges as is inevitable in the rocky road of adolescence. And finally, I've gained the courage to launch this blog...with cheesy pics of my year...not quite one per month as was the original intention, but you get the idea...

The good ole gratitude challenge!

I got nominated on Facebook to do a 'Gratitude Challenge' which involved listing three things I am grateful for on five consecutive days.  It really was a beautiful, life affirming exercise.

Here's the list:

1. The Sun
2. The Sea
3. My two beautiful, passionate, fiercely intelligent children.
4. Despite being so absent minded, (I lost track of my cinnamon between the supermarket and my kitchen), I’m still compos mentis enough to beat my son at chess. 3-1 to Mummy…woohoo (although he’s since been playing on the computer so my moment of glory is likely to be really short lived.
5. I was able to empower two adults to use email for the very first time, one in his twenties and the other in her sixties.  It was truly an honour to be able to spend the short time it took to open the door to a whole new world…
6. My childish wonder at the natural world….seeing a monkey, or a turtle or a stingray, or a snake…. while I’m out training fills me with such joy I remain happy for weeks.  Looking to hang onto that!!
7. When my students exuberantly proclaim: “That was the best PE class ever!”
8. That my mother taught me to bake cakes…both through years of delicious examples and by buying me a baking ‘bible’ back when I was inundating her with pregnancy related cake-craving requests…
9. I’m getting to end my workday three times a week by meeting and facilitating a range of delightful of six-year-old readers
10. My ability to talk to anyone who crosses my path…
11. My sense of humour, which usually allows me to choose laughter over tears…
12. The many wonderful people who have come in and out and back into my life at myriad intervals…creating, restoring, enhancing beautiful connections, which I value above almost anything…
13. I was able to complete a duathlon this morning, trapped nerve and all, very slowly (...although got a little pace on the bike)....and for the first time knew I wouldn't be falling into a health crisis directly after!
14. I can nearly always conquer anxiety with optimism.
15. I absolutely love teaching...and have a wonderfully collaborative, encouraging & supportive working environment.

Duelling the Duathlon

It was billed a 'Mini Duathlon' and I signed up to support a friend who's just embarked on this crazy endurance multi-sport journey that hardcore nutters like me appear to find is the route to ultimate happiness.  My friend became injured on an equally enjoyable 100k bike ride we signed up to a couple of weeks back so was unable to partake...but I already had my race number, which matched my birthdate, and as I have to get back into the game somehow, I went on down to the Savannah. Also compared to the gruelling Sprint Duathlon which is 5k run, 20k ride, 2.5k run, the little 3k/11k/3k didn't seem soooo bad.

The hardest two things are firstly knowing exactly the nature of torture you're subjecting yourself to (i.e. not as bad as the sprint but still bad...) in at least 32 degrees C heat....yep, the soft cooling rain waited until the last athlete had finished; and secondly knowing that all the hard work you put into building your fitness was severely eroded in the four month injury break. On top of this the nerve is still trapped and it was kind enough to remind me of this minor detail throughout the race.

I started off feeling pain in my ankles, shins, calves...the whole lower leg was a hot mess on each side.  I glanced around at who might be a good running buddy for this adventure, but there was no one I could keep up with.  After about 500 metres I considered stopping as I saw almost all my teammates (as well as almost all the other competitors) disappearing into the distance. I glanced back and realised I wasn't last yet and that somehow powered me on for a few more yards.  We had to run 3 loops, and by the second one I'd found a kind of rhythm and so plodded on all the way to my bike.

I'd forgotten all about the rubber bands needed to attach my bike shoes to the bike to speed up my transition and then there were no mounting lines, so I hobbled out inelegantly in my cleats and managed not to burst my tube on the grill as I somehow mounted my bike and rode off round the Savannah with a slight feeling of trepidation. However, once my legs had warmed up a little the ride became smoother to the point where I was actually enjoying it.  And then I started overtaking a few stragglers, emitting a silent, "Baugh!" with each one.  Finally I felt like I was racing, like I had a little power in my legs and I was able to override the feeling of sciatica which presented itself along the length of my right thigh.  As I passed the crowd by the entry back into the transition area I speeded up hoping they would just see a blur as I zoomed past...and didn't drop speed again.  There was an older guy riding at a constant pace on a mountain bike with a beautifully upright posture who kept passing me, but the competitive spirit was out...and I was ultimately able to leave him for dust.

But that's where the fun ended.  Transition was miserable, I didn't take off my shoes early enough, there were again no lines, I was scared of the grill, and the officials were asking me an entirely random question about a cleat cover (???)  I tried walking out of transition, sucking down my Cytomax in the hope that my legs would behave...but they didn't. Absolutely no cooperation there, to the point that I felt someone had injected a combination of lead and concrete into my socks.  I was left with 2 options: to walk it out and hope eventually my bounce would return; or to just run in this heavy footed manner which was marginally faster than a walk.  Needless to say, quitting at this point, despite the knowledge that a further 3k was not going to be remotely fun, wasn't in fact an option at all by now.  So I ran on.  I passed a few walkers who were bizarrely enough struggling even more than me, I jollied on some teammates who were losing heart and I just kept going.

I actually lost count by the last lap and had to verify with a friend of mine who I'd sailed past on the bike, only for her to trot past me on one of those run laps...and she assured me the torture was finally over. I tried to speed up a little to finish the run...and maybe I did and then as ever had that ironic experience of sprinting to the finish line.  How is that possible when I had no energy for the rest of the run? 

And then it was all over and I hadn't come last...as I have on other occasions.  I had also done the best I could in the circumstances. I'd eaten well and hydrated ....although I had missed some sleep earlier in the week and consumed a little rum a couple of days ago which somehow has an ongoing detrimental effect to sports performance..and the contraband carrot cake (...blasted birthday season!)  But my fitness is definitely lower than it was and I'd like to change that.  So, Wednesday 5am rides are back and some more running has to happen.

But the real conclusion I seem to have come to is that as I'm really not planning on being a superstar athlete and am in this game for the health, fitness, travel and liming, rather than continue battling with these beastly duathlons, maybe I should take the more enjoyable option my friends did and do it as a relay team. I could ride my bike, and probably push some speed boundaries if my legs didn't have to endure the hot sun running torture before and after.  And then, like they did, I could even take home a trophy!!

We can feel pride in a number of different ways, and I am proud that I did the entire race without stopping.  However, to come near last does come with psychological debris, debris which sure wouldn't be hanging around if I'd walked outta there with a nice, shiny trophy.

challenges, achievements & plans...

One of these self-help guru types claimed the key way to success was following a simple routine each night.  First, identify your day's challenges. Next, focus on your achievements for the day, and lastly, plan for the next day. So here goes.

Challenges...
Getting to training on time was certainly challenging.  My body ached in various random spots. My pre-race anxiety for the Duathlon tomorrow was eating at my brain, cautioning me to not exhaust myself in advance.  Worst of all, my gut was still quarrelling with me about the apparently irresistible carrot cake I'd made for a friend's birthday and eaten a slice of (as well of several spoonfuls of the icing) despite the very real presence of an abundance of wheat and dairy products that I clearly still can't tolerate!  

The next challenge was getting my son to the barber.  His three and a half inch, utterly shapeless afro of an indefinable light brownish colour had finally pushed me over the edge when he melted down over washing it.  No shampoo, no comb, no moisturiser...in my world = no more afro!  Now it's not that he prized it and loved it, or was using it to express himself culturally or aesthetically.  His take was, "who cares what my hair looks like? I don't!" And like his ultimate role model, Einstein, he cannot understand why hair can't just sit on one's head in any old manner without people feeling the need to constantly be commenting on it. 

I admire this stance greatly, to really not give a pig's ear what people think of your appearance is an attitude which maybe more of us should adopt.  However, when the boy is getting irritable because his scalp is itching, when people look at him and can't get past the messiness and he doesn't have the social skills to override this and when I find more and more bits lurking in the depth of those coarse curls I realise life is a delicate balance. He will be just as happy with a number 2 on the top and number 1 on the sides as he doesn't really care and he will receive more positive social interactions too, so confirming to societal expectations on this occasion may be the lesser of two evils. But sheer logic was not going to convince him!

The third challenge was the carbo loading.  I'm sure some people will snigger at this and wonder why that could ever be a problem; however, with this wheat-free, dairy-free diet it's pretty hard to eat enough at the best of times.  Added to this is the fact that all the whole oats got cleaned out of the supermarket and I refuse to buy quick oat (I mean what are they?? The residue they sweep from the floor of the porridge factories???) so I couldn't even make my fabulous (to my palette only...but still) cookies.

But achievements were right round the corner...
...I made it to training ...and in time to catch a short but rhythmic swim.  We then rode which felt good, despite a bit of mid ride, inability to sprint, flagging. The best was to come last.  As I again doubted the wisdom of running at all the day before a race, but went to do it anyway as I was there, I suddenly realised we had a guest coach.  He was an incredible man, a natural runner who was 74 years old, with an utterly efficient body.  He took us through various stretches, qi gong breathing and effective warms ups...(although I'm still wondering about the exercise he declined to elaborate on which apparently involved wearing rubber boots....) This was marvellous as I'd missed yoga this week and knew I absolutely needed it.  It felt so wonderful to be stretching out the many kinks in my posture, as the warm sun caressed us and the tropical, verdant foliage surrounded us. And this stretching routine entirely replaced the run.

...and I got the boy to the barber.  It was a huge struggle during which I became increasingly more skeptical about my ability to get him there...but somewhere between my threatening to cut it myself with scissors, and my almost losing the plot when in his reactive state of tensing his body he accidentally kicked me, he got up and went to eat breakfast.  So he is now perpetually groomed, with his handsome face shining through, and we've lost one of the morning stressors!

...and I've eaten loads! I bought food, reheated more food, had a protein shake and even tried a ripe Pommecytere for the first time and loved it. The little bananas have also ripened, so I've been gobbling down those.  Carbs are loaded!

...and the biggest achievement is I actually washed down and oiled, not just my bike, but a friend's bike too!  I did it just before sunset so I could even see what I was doing.  

So the plan for tomorrow is to get up, meditate, remain calm, go down to race site, remain calm, warm up, race, lime a little, get son to cousin's house and then lime some more in the expertly engineered, guilt-free 'me' time.... my kinda Sunday.  And I will remain calm.