My Mom’s honey cough mixture recipe (aka boere rad)

I posted a pic on Instagram on the weekend showcasing all the medication that KK was taking. It’s a combo of his usual pre-Comrades panic mixed with a really runny nose. His fear is that it grows into a full blown chest infection. Eeek! Then on Sunday, I started to come down with an incredibly rusty throat & dry cough. Such bad timing. We both decided to bail on the RAC 10km race & suffered huge FOMO trawling through our Strava feeds. 

A couple of comments to the pic mentioned (over)dosing up on honey, especially some really passionate & convincing advise from @LaceyMcCarthy that honey was the only cure. 

Somewhere out of my memory bank I remembered that when I was younger, my mom gave us spoonfuls of a hectic concoction made with honey & a whole lot of other stuff. It was vile but it worked! 

Recipe in hand and chatting to my mom, I mixed up a bottle tonight. That smell brought back so many memories! It’s going to take a bit of convincing for KK to try it, but there was no hesitation from me! Honey cough mixtureI’ve got a strong feeling it’s going to work. It’s either because it’s so strong & deadly or possibly because it filled me with such happiness & pride that my mom’s honey mixture has been passed down to me. 

In case you’d like to try it, here’s the recipe: 
Lennons hoesmiddel

750gm honey 🍯 

1 bottle Lennons Turlington

1 bottle Borsdruppels

1 bottle Paregoric

1/2 bottle peppermint druppels

(Heat honey slightly if needed and add ingredients).

Let me know if this helped you! (And if perhaps my Mom should start her own business!

Look ahead and start again

I received some feedback recently at work which has been really difficult to acknowledge. The feedback was harsh. Inside I was crushed.

I’ve taken a few days to try & understand the situation and see how I could do things differently. And as always, I turned to my blog. I was reading some older posts when I started to recognize some of the comments that people had fed back about me reflected in some of the posts I had written about myself and my running.

When it comes to my running, I am unforgiving when I fail; I am highly critical about myself; I am hard on myself; I only see faults, never anything good…

Oh my word. Yup! I am that person.

I’ve often said that the corporate world is not for sissies. It’s especially tough when there are so many goals to achieve, so many deadlines and expectations to fulfill. Being an A-type personality doesn’t help. Through all the chaos, my only sense of security was to increase control of the work, micro manage, be over-critical and not open to failure. It’s all there, I can see it now.

The same way that I need to sometimes go back to simply enjoying my running, needs to be the same way I approach this situation. I need to step back and understand where it’s going wrong. It needs a fresh new start and perhaps focus on the positives and the successes.

The same day I received the feedback at work was the same day I made the decision to start on a clean slate with my running. New beginnings. New running goals. New start.

Everything in life can be fixed. It’s not the end of the world, right? It’s quite a relief to be given the chance to start again.

Thank goodness for waterproof mascara.

It’s a choice, but it’s mine

I slept in late today. It was cold. It was drizzling and even though I had my running kit set out and ready to go, I chose to roll over and sleep. It was my choice.

Today was Mother’s Day. I’m 42 years old and don’t have any children. I made the decision years ago not to have kids. I believe that too is a choice. And it’s my choice. Not a lot of people understand that.

If you spent any time on social media today, you would have seen the flood of Mother’s Day messages. It’s truly awesome for all the moms out there. But I did see one or two posts about how tough it is for those that aren’t moms, or loved ones who have lost their moms.

I kinda lie low on days like these. My opinion about my choice of not having kids get more negative comments that positive ones. A lot of frowns and questions come my way. Not everyone thinks it’s a choice. Not everyone understands my choice. That’s okay. I have to live with it, not them. But the guilt trips always come.

Choosing not to run was my choice and I did have serious FOMO all day long. I knew that had I gone running, I would’ve felt fantastic and perhaps enjoyed that extra roast potato at my mom’s house a lot more. I also know that I enjoyed cuddling up in my warm bed.

There are pros and cons to every decision. I’ll run tomorrow. Happy Mother’s Day to all my wonderful friends who are mothers (including my awesome sister)! You guys inspire and amaze me. Running is hard, but not as hard as what you guys do each and every day. But I know, it’s also a lot more rewarding!

Thanks for the lunch mom, it was delicious! I love you!

Reflecting on this year’s Two Oceans race

It’s long overdue and regular readers of my blog might have noticed that I haven’t yet published my annual account of my Two Oceans half marathon race.

In previous blog posts, I’ve mostly bitched about the race and vowed (every time) never to return. It’s been a love hate relationship. However this year, everything fitted together like a puzzle and it turned out that I ran the race with very different eyes.

The race was a few days after a friend had let us know about the cancer moving to two parts of her brain. Her regular WhatsApp messages popped in and out of my thoughts sporadically & my mind flashed through what she was going through.

The night before the race, I had said to myself, how can I moan when I know how much Susan loves triathlons and swimming & would love to just get out there and run? So I didn’t moan and woke up on race morning looking forward to the race.

I started in race category D which kinda felt like I had golden circle tickets at a rock concert. It also meant less time waiting compared to category E and loads more room to stand in.

10 minutes before the race started, my mind flipped into panic mode. But instead, I thought, scared? Bron you don’t know what scared is. Susan is scared.

When it hurt near the 17kms mark and my legs were tired, I thought you don’t know what tired is. This is not pain. Not like what Susan is going through.

And when I wanted to quit, I remembered that quitting was not an option for her.
Finally, when I crossed that finish line, I said “this is for you Susan”. But somehow, the message was really for me. I had come through 21.1kms having learnt something quite humbling about myself.

two oceans half marathon medal and photoI moan about my running way to often. I criticize my pace and point out all my weaknesses. I blame the race, the race organizers and my training. It’s the backbone to my blog. But I need to stop. I am a runner and incredibly grateful to be able to cross those finishing lines at road races.

I am good enough. My body is good enough! There are so many people out there who don’t have the opportunities or the health that I have to be able to run. So from now on, every time I don’t feel like running, I’ll think of those that wish they could. I’ll think of Susan. Because what she made me realize, that every time I put my running shoes on, I need to be grateful that I am able to run. It doesn’t matter how slow or fast or even how far. We seem to forget that.