Been a bit slack lately...

Well I started my blogging in the holidays but boy have I been slack since going back to work.
I think the main reason why I have not blogged for a few weeks is because during my last session I wrote quite a lot, only to lose it all due to a laptop glitch. Perhaps this scared me off a bit, I don't know.
However, after talking to a friend today whose blog inspired me to start my own, I have renewed faith in my own ability, and that of my laptop to get back into it.
It is not a case of not having the time, it is in making the time.
Everyone in the world has 24 hours in a day, so how we choose to use it is up to us.
Hopefully I can lock myself in even for just an hour a week, stay tuned...

Stand By Me | Playing For Change | Song Around the World

I Love My Music...




This song says it all. Some of the best street musos singing a classic song.
I love my music and have it playing all the time. Anything from ' Playing For Change' is always on high rotation.

Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run (acoustic) - Live 4/27/88

More Classic Music...


Bruce Springsteen, an all time favourite is played constantly. This acoustic version of 'Born to Run ' is amazing.

Some lighthearted moments...

With the amount of time I have spent out on the road either running or cycling, a few things have happened along the way. Some are funny, some not so funny and some just contemplative...

"Sexy Legs...NOT!"
This happened when I lived in Ballarat in the 90's and was out having a run.
I had been going along comfortably for a while and had to stop at a set of lights in Mair St, one of the main streets in Ballarat. While I was waiting for the 'little green man', I could hear some wolf whistles coming from my left. I didn't want to appear overly excited and turn straight away, so I just had a subtle glance out of the corner of my eye. What did I see ? Three rather nice looking young ladies heading my way !!!
As I was playing a pretty straight bat and determined to look cool and unbothered by this attention, I continued to look straight ahead and wait for the lights to change.
This did not stop the whistles, as they kept doing it as they got closer to me. My response ? Keep looking straight ahead, but lift the leg of my shorts a bit higher and show a bit of leg. The more they whistled, the more I showed. Boy was I feeling good about myself !
BUT... as they got closer on my left side, I suddenly heard a lot of giggling from my right, and upon looking I saw another group of girls coming towards me, and they were calling out to the group that I had first shown my wares to.
Then it dawned on me, they weren't whistling at me, they were whistling to their friends who were approaching from the opposite direction that I hadn't noticed, due to my pre-occupation with flashing my pins at them !!!
What followed next was about 20 seconds of untold embarrassment as I held my gaze steadfastly ahead, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, and hoping for hell that the lights would change so I could escape!
The two groups of girls gathered at the lights too, but I couldn't tell you what they were talking about as I was just sweating profusely and going redder by the second. Needless to say, they were in hysterics after watching the antics of this nuffy jogger.
When the lights changed, you have never seen someone move so fast in an effort to get away from others.
The giggling as I took off is just as clear in my mind today as it was all those years ago.
I still laugh about it now, but at the time there was not a hole big enough for me to hide in.

Ganbatte !!

For a few years when we lived in Ballarat I taught Japanese as well as my usual other Primary teaching.
When I was attending classes at Uni, we were encouraged to use our new found skills wherever and whenever we could in our daily lives in order to embed what we were learning as well as have real life experiences in using the language.
At about the same I was running in a half marathon in Melbourne, and at the time these events were extremely well supported by many Japanese people.
I couldn't believe my luck - what a great opportunity to practice my Japanese skills on other runners !!
At the start I was looking around at the other competitors, and yep, there were certainly a lot of Japanese people. All I had to do was go for it.
As the race started and people gradually found their place in the filed, I decided that now it was time to do it. I gradually ran alongside a Japanese runner ( I have to admit that I assumed each one I went to was Japanese !) and was all prepared to say something, but at the last minute I wimped out.
Undeterred, I thought to myself "Next person, definitely".
So, I eventually worked up the courage and got alongside another Japanese person and, you guessed it, wimped out again.
This must have happened at least 8-9 more times, and I was starting to panic as we were quickly running out of km's !
So, after convincing myself that it was now 'Do or die', I got alongside a Japanese man, gave him 'the nod' (you know, the acknowledgement nod) and said to him loudly, "Ganbatte"  ( which is a term of encouragement, keep it going, do your best etc) in my best Japanese.
Imagine my shock/horror when he replied in the thickest Aussie drawl, "How are you goin' mate?"!!
This bloke was probably more Aussie than me !
Just like I did at the traffic lights when the girls were whistling at me (or so I thought) I accelerated at a pace that was not physically good for me, but was enough to get me out of the vicinity of the person I'd just made a tool of myself to.
My mouth stayed well and truly shut for the rest of the race.
Once again, I can laugh about it now, but at the time I considered myself to be a total nutbag.

Ouch !!
A few years ago I purchased a road bike so that I could cycle more in an attempt to rid myself of some injuries and ailments that were troubling me. Very quickly I was clocking up the km's as I rode all around Bendigo, looking rather spiffy in my full kit of shoes and lycra and on a brand new bike.
One day in particular that was a little wet, I was going through a roundabout when the bike slid out from under me in the wet and I was sent sliding across the road, still attached to the pedals by my shoes.
As I must have been going at a good pace, I could not believe how far I actually slid, but I quickly became aware that I was sliding headlong into the path of an oncoming car.
Thankfully we both stopped a few metres from each other, and while I was getting myself back together and checking my injuries there was a tooting of a car horn right behind me. Thinking that it was someone offering some help I sat up and looked at them, only to see an older male driver motioning angrily at me to get out of the way as I was blocking his lane !!
I could not believe his attitude, as here I was bruised and bleeding on the road in front of him and all he wanted was for me to get out of his way.
Luckily that is the worst that has happened.

Ouch 2 !!
Mid last year I was out riding again through the centre of Bendigo, and I reached an intersection that meant I had to cross over some tram tracks that run along our main street.
As I was turning, my front wheel got locked in the tram track, but the rear of the bike slid outwards. This created something of a catapult effect, and I was ejected rapidly out of my seat over the bike and onto the road. In comparison to my crash at the roundabout mentioned above, this was the total opposite. A number of cars stopped immediately in their lanes and people were offering to help. At first I was too dazed to respond as my first thoughts were to see if any trams were coming as I was in the middle of the tracks. My next thoughts were about the bike, as I was still about 10km's from home, but after a few quick tweaks here and there it was soon rideable again.
After getting off the road and onto the footpath, it was time to check the body. A lot of skin missing, some big bruises and cuts and some holes in my gear, but the biggest shock was how much force the helmet must have taken when my head hit the deck. It was definitely the difference between minor and serious injury, so if anyone says helmets are not necessary, tell them to think again.
The best part about this bingle (if there can be) was how so many people stopped in their tracks (no pun intended) to help me, on a busy Saturday afternoon in the main street of Bendigo, unlike the old bugger at the roundabout who probably wanted to run me over anyway.

Being in the zone...
Sometimes when one goes out for a run or a ride, you can just tell straight away if it is going to be a hard one or an easy one. By this I mean that there are days when the body is saying "Yeah, I'm up for it" while on others it is saying "Well, do this if you have to, but don't expect much from me".
Then it becomes a mental battle of whether to push on or pack it in, but in most times I tend to push on as I hate getting ready to run or ride and then pull the pin.
Sometimes when running it just all seems to come together. The fatigue is not happening, the legs are cranking away smoothly, nothing is hurting, the breathing is good. One just feels at these times that this is just about as good as it can get, and I have learnt to really cherish these moments, as few and far between as they are.
When possible, and if I have the opportunity I love to take photos of where and when this happens.
I have included three photos that were taken in Canada when I went for a few jogs, as this is one of the best ways to explore a new city or area.

The track around Vancouver Harbour

Along the foreshore in Toronto

Along the river in Canmore, Alberta, Canada.

In each of them, everything just felt so right, so I took a photo of where I was. I am still not sure if the environment contributed, or if I was just in a good headspace. You be the judge.

Running

Running

For a long time, I have enjoyed running.

I think this may have stemmed from when I first went to Boarding School in Kilmore when I was 14. Every Monday night, rain, hail or shine, every boarder had to assemble together in their running gear and were told which route we would be taking that night. There was no escaping it. Names were checked off at the start, at the half way mark and again at the end. If one wanted to be excused they had to have a pass note from the nurse who ran the sick bay, but these were as hard to obtain as rocking horse poo, so it was futile to even attempt to get one.

Distances ranged from as little as 3-4 km, to up to 8-9 km. If you wanted to run further that was up to you, but few took up the option.

At first I tolerated these runs, then grew to look forward to them. Not because I was a good runner, far from it. I loved the challenge of beating certain other kids, trying to match it with those who were always ahead of me, and trying to beat the course itself. 

There was also the added bonus of being closer to the front of the queue for the showers at the end, always a priority in a Kilmore Winter ! 

The running also helped us stay fit for football, which was the main priority at school at the time. Education was secondary !

Over the next four years I began to take an extra run each week and by the time I was in Year 12 I would run each night after school in order to clear the head for the next few hours of study that we had to do each night.

By now I was enjoying going for runs, and I kept it up when I left school and lived in Melbourne for a year when I worked in a bank. It was a great way to explore the suburbs, and often I would drive my car to a different part of Melbourne, go for a run there, and then drive home. I got to know Melbourne very well in a very short time.

The running now kept me fairly fit for football, so pre-season was never a hassle.

I then moved to Ballarat for 3 years to study teaching and I quickly became aware of the running culture of this city. Football was still my main focus sporting wise, but I always ran when I could.

Over the next few years it was football first, but I always ran when I could. When the first of our 3 boys was born I bought an old pram and scrounged an old chair from the school I was teaching at and attached it to the pram. This enabled my son to sit up and come with me for runs.

Soon we discovered in a shop a larger 3 wheeled pram that was a forerunner of all of those ones you see everywhere these days. An infant could be transported in comfort and with a plastic cover, in any weather.

We soon became a bit of a fixture around the Lake in Ballarat as there were no other running prams going around at the time. It was also a great way to get the kids out of the house if they were ratty, couldn't get to sleep or if my wife needed a break.

Each year as part of the Ballarat Begonia Festival there is a 16.5km race that attracts hundreds of entries, and I managed to push each of the boys in the pram in different years. The photos are below.

Pushing Will

Pushing Sam

Pushing Lachlan

                                                                  Australian Ekiden

We had a team of dads who ran in a team marathon event, each pushing a child in a makeshift pram. (We were the only ones to do so)

We came 2nd after getting pipped 400m from the finish line

The 1994 Ekiden

 



I have been lucky enough to have completed 6 marathons. The feeling as you cross the finish line is a combination of exhilaration and exhaustion, there is no other feeling like it.
I hit the wall in one marathon at the 25 km mark and ended up in the 'Sag Wagon', which takes you to the finish line and another medical check up before they release you. It was the lowest of feelings, not being able to finish. It burned for a whole year until the next event when I got to the same point and kept going, it was a major incentive to finish.

After a run in Darwin. What you cannot see is that I am totally drenched with sweat from running in the humidity.

After a Winter's night run in Bendigo. That is frost on the beanie.

While running has been a long time passion, it has also put me in hospital a few times. Numerous knee operations have laid me up from time to time, hernia operations also. But the thing that stopped me in my tracks and put an end to marathons was the dreaded Osteitis Pubis, a condition I wouldn't wish on anyone. The treatment for it was a course of the most painful needles I have ever endured. It took a few years to shake, but I am always aware that it could surface again.
Despite this, I have never lost my love for running. It has enabled me to meet an amazing range of people, in particular The Tann Clan in Ballarat.
For those unaware of the Tann Clan, it is a group of people who meet 3-4 times a week to run together and enjoy each other's company. The last time I ran with them there were nearly 70 in the group, ably lead by Richard Tann and his reliable offsider, John 'Coach' Burt.
Each morning at 6.00 am, regardless of weather conditions we would meet and run for an hour through the streets of Ballarat. Some would meet earlier and do a bit of extra work too. Look out if you slept in as there was always the chance they would run past (or through) your house and wake you up!!
The group would train towards their goal each year, to complete the Melbourne Marathon. My one regret is that I never got to do a marathon with them as I ended up in hospital on Marathon weekend needing surgery for a running injury, but they did come and run up to my bed the day before to cheer me up !!
In that one year that I ran with them I discovered the true joy of running, and that it didn't matter who you were or what you did, if you had runners on then that was good enough. For most of the year I was very friendly with one bloke in particular who I thought was a farmer, only to eventually discover that he was a heart specialist and that farming was a hobby. He had runners on, and that's all that mattered, and it showed how we often judge people by what they do, not who they are.
Running gives me 'think time', and I cannot begin to estimate how many lessons for school have been planned on the road, or how many ideas I get just from observing what goes on around me. It is also a magnificent release if I have had a bugger of a day. Even my wife will tell me to 'hit the road' in my runners or on my bike if she senses I need to unwind!
I could go on forever sharing my feelings about the joys of running, but two quotes sum it up completely...


     

I found this painted on the foreshore in Vancouver.

Just reviewed my first attempt at blogging. When I looked at the Bungy clip I said that it was 143 m.
Try taking off about 90 m and it might be more accurate !! Still scared the pants off me though, sorry about the incorrect info, you'd reckon I'd get my numbers right, especially in the role I work in !!
Cheers.

My first attempt...

This is my first try at creating a blog.
I have been inspired reading the blogs of one person who is battling cancer, and the other of an elderly man who recently lost his wife. I also just finished reading the blog of a colleague who took two of his sons to the States for a holiday and felt that now is the time for me to start one after promising to do so for a long time.
While my experiences pale into insignificance when compared to theirs, there just might be a few snippets that might interest some as I share some insights into my family life, teaching life, holidays and travel and experiences from exercising, a passion of mine.
So, hopefully there might be something interesting over time, or not !!!!

In a few weeks/months I hope to look back at this first post and be amazed at how far I have 

progressed, so here goes...

Conquering my fears...

This is a video taken when I was In New Zealand in 2008 for a work tour of schools. 

I have a morbid fear of heights (even standing on a bath mat has been known to scare me !!) but when our bus was entering Queenstown we drove past a bridge that had bungy jumping. A friend looked at me and raised his eyebrows as if to say "Well, will we?" to which I immediately, and maybe flippantly said "Yes!"

Well, I had now committed myself, so when we reached our hotel I straight away got on the phone and made a booking for the next morning. The person who took my booking asked if I would like to pay straight away on my credit card, or pay on the day after having the night to think it over. No way !!! If I pulled out now I would never do it, plus I felt that if I paid I would hate to lose the $150 odd dollars it cost to do.

I also bought the "Official" video of my jump ( another way of skimming dollars from unsuspecting tourists) which although is good, is not nearly as good as the one I have posted here.

Another friend came on the bus with me to the jump site the next day ( at his own expense mind you) as he was documenting reasons why people do certain things as part of his research for a book he was writing. He used my camera to interview me before and after the event, as well as the jump, and it is better than the official one that I paid for.

What I love most is that he has captured the natural and immediate response after the jump that I will always treasure. He also got me to think about not only what I did, but why, and how it might influence me in the future.

While still terrified of heights, I have been to other places that have tested this fear, but none will come close to providing me with the memories and sensation of this bungy jump in New Zealand. 

The bridge I jumped from. Even walking out onto it scared the crap out of me !

 Going up a mountain to a restaurant in Queenstown. Halfway up the mountain was a bungy jump, which gives an indication of how steep it was.

A view of Queenstown from the cable car. What you can't see are my white knuckles !!

At the top of the mountain. I may look calm, but I nearly crushed the handrail as I was holding on so tightly !

The tower in Auckland (I think!) that I went up with a friend.

The glass floor in the tower, this scared the living crap out of me !

Getting braver.

This tower is in Calgary, Canada. You can see people abseiling down from the top if you look closely. I'd worked up the guts to do it, only to be told it was $5 000 a person !! (It was a major fundraiser)

In the time I was up the top with a colleague, we saw 5 people descend.

Really brave in Calgary.

Calgary

This is the CN Tower in Toronto, Canada.

Looking down from the glass floor in Toronto.

CN Tower, Toronto, Canada. You can see people doing the rim walk at the top. They are harnessed, and lean out over the edge. I was prepared to do it, but the cost was exorbitant.

Helicopter flight over Niagara Falls.

The CN Tower in Canada.

Abseiling in Hall's Gap

Abseiling in Hall's Gap.

Getting closer to the edge at King's Canyon, N.T.

Still not game enough to get right to the edge.

Helicopter flight over King's Canyon, N.T.

This is about as close to the edge you'll get me.