Surviving my first bike ride

Posted on June 18, 2012 by Bo

Nervous did not begin to describe how I felt when we woke up on Sunday morning. This was the day that we decided to go for a “gentle” ride on our bikes. Kitted out in helmets, padded cycling shorts and warm clothes, off we went.

The plan was to cycle from Douglasdale, collect our besties on the way in Bryanston, head through Randburg into Delta Park, shoot through to Parkhurst for a quick breakfast and head back home. I secretly wondered if that wasn’t too enthusiastic, especially since I had not ridden my bike for 10 years after I threw it on the pavement and walked home.

Cycling is different to running. Running is harder. Running relies solely on the fitness of your legs to get you both up those hills and down. Whereas in cycling, even though you have to peddle like mad to push up those nasty hills, you do get to free-wheel on the down hills and relax a bit while the bike does most of the work.

Some observations from my ride:

1. Delta Park is absolutely beautiful! Wow Jozi! The dry winter grass; the sound of the flowing water; the people walking their dogs; runners, cyclists and even horses! What a gem.

2. 36kms sounds far, but I survived. I did have to stop once or twice to catch my breath, but I did not at any stage get off my bike and walk. I call this progress.

3. Cyclists are unfriendly. Compared to runners who always greet one another, cyclists hardly acknowledge one another. Odd. I know my butt was getting sore so I just wonder if this is perhaps the reason they are all so moody?

There is one (hard) lesson I’m learning about myself. I allow my nerves to ruin the joy of the ride. I kept worrying that I would be too slow and hold everyone up. Or that my bike would break. Or that I would be too unfit to get home. Or worst of all, a puncture!

But as I was riding, I remember KK’s words to me when I started running: “There is no way you can ever come last, so just enjoy the run”. It’s the same with cycling, I guess. Stop stressing and just enjoy the ride Bron! I need to work on that…

I am seriously looking forward to the next outing. But for now, I need to rest my butt!

My 4 weeks of hibernation

Posted on June 14, 2012 by Bo

Not having KK around for 4 weeks certainly made me realise some hard truths about myself. The main one is that I rely ~~too heavily~~ on him. Running a household is tough when you’re on your own. Even tougher when there are things around the house that you have no idea what to do with.

If I thought that I would spend 4 weeks milling around, reading, blogging and visiting family, I was mistaken. I was like a bear and simply shut down, going in to hibernation, waiting for his return. This didn’t help things around the house though.

The biggest thing I realised is that I do take KK for granted. I realised just how much he does around the house and just how much I need him. I am so* glad he’s home!

Running marathons instead of rat races

Posted on June 6, 2012 by Bo

Ask any South African what they enjoy about the Comrades marathon and somewhere in the conversation, they will mention the excitement around the cut-off guns. The screams from the crowds as the clock ticks down, the agony as some runners are reduced to crawling and the tears on the faces of those runners who don’t make it.

It was the same watching the Comrades marathon on TV on the weekend. As the clock ticked down and runners were left with less and less time to complete the race, runners were encouraging each other on, supporting one another, urging each other not to quit. When a runner would fall on the grass on that last stretch and not have the energy to get up, other runners would stop and help out, grabbing their heavy, tired bodies and pulling them over that finish line. Supporters were screaming and encouraging the runners. It was nail-biting!

The races I run are certainly not as long or dramatic and we don’t drag each other over the finish line, but in many races, especially those such as Two Oceans, runners will not let one another fail and we will support each other to the very end. If I stop to walk, those around me encourage me to carry on. When it looks like I cannot go on, other runners will shout out support and advice as they pass me, even grabbing my hand or pushing my back, saying “Come on 8408 (my race number), you can do this!”

Running is the one sport where it’s all up to the individual but where we all want each other to succeed.

Yet, it’s a pity I don’t see that same sense of camaraderie in the corporate world…

You see, my own experience of late is that if you are down, very few colleagues stop to help you up. If you’re struggling and on the verge of quitting, it’s rare that anyone will urge you to continue. No one stops to look at the full picture or give anyone the benefit of the doubt. In fact, in the rat race of the corporate world, it’s become a matter of survival of the fittest and each person has their eye on the finish line. The competitiveness has over-shadowed team spirit and people are walking over one another to get to the end.

We all have different goals even if we are all running towards the same finish line, but it’s important to stop and help those around you who are struggling or who may be needing that extra little push to get to the end.

When you run at my running pace of 8 mins/km, you inevitably land up at the back of the pack. A typical half marathon takes me 3 hours to run. But let me tell you, there’s something magical about running with the back-markers. A certain sense of camaraderie that I cannot explain. But also a vibe where we all realise that some of us won’t make that cut-off gun.

I wish my colleagues would only realise that in a race, the real reward is when you stop and help someone over that finish line so that in the end, you both achieve your goals.

Lessons about donkeys…

Posted on March 13, 2012 by Bo

Ever heard the fable about the donkey?

Lunching with a friend recently, I was expressing a concern about worrying what others might think of decisions I had made with regards to my running. She stopped me and proceeded to tell me a story about a donkey which I’ve never heard before but one which I’ll never forget.

It turns out that it’s one of Aesop’s fables and goes like this:

A Man and his son were walking with their Donkey to market. As they were walking along by its side a countryman passed them and said: “You fools, what is a Donkey for but to ride upon?”

So the Man put the Boy on the Donkey and they went on their way. But soon they passed a group of men, one of whom said: “See that lazy youngster, he lets his father walk while he rides.” So the Man ordered his Boy to get off, and got on himself. But they hadn’t gone far when they passed two women, one of whom said to the other: “Shame on that lazy lout to let his poor little son trudge along.”

Well, the Man didn’t know what to do, but at last he took his Boy up before him on the Donkey. By this time they had come to the town, and the passers-by began to jeer and point at them. The Man stopped and asked what they were scoffing at. The men said: “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for overloading that poor donkey of yours and your son?”

The Man and Boy got off and tried to think what to do. They thought and they thought, till at last they cut down a pole, tied the donkey’s feet to it, and raised the pole and the donkey to their shoulders. They went along amid the laughter of all who met them till they came to Market Bridge, when the Donkey, getting one of his feet loose, kicked out and caused the Boy to drop his end of the pole. In the struggle the Donkey fell over the bridge, and his fore-feet being tied together he was drowned.

“That will teach you,” said an old man who had followed them: “Please all, and you will please none.”