Just keep swimming...

As part of my Tri training I am introducing swimming into my schedule. Not as sleek as an otter in my technique but I've got over the 'panic' response. It is great to be swimming again. Bloody knackering though!


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Location:Highbury, London

Well, look who's back...

What a year already!
Started my new job in earnest this year and it's been challenging to say the least. When I say challenging - I mean doing 140 hrs in two weeks (incls. two weekends in a row) staying to 01:30 in the morning and wondering why a year on, I am once again doing hard hours and feeling that my life is not mine.

We finally managed to conclude estate matters after nearly six years. Unbelievable and not sure all has been resolved within - but knowing is half the solution. I've also reserved a spot in Open University to start my BSc in Psychology up again so that is something to look forward to in Autumn.

With the pressure of work and finally having a life again, there is an additional element to help me this time around.
Exercising. It has always been my saving grace and it was not my smartess of moves to forget that I might add. It's with some dismay, I realised that since being in the UK I have never joined a sports club.
So, it's back to the starting blocks, literally. Cycling to work now (had a slight mishap - foot slipped off pedal and I went over. Thankfully it wasn't on a main road in traffic) and have taken up a 5K 'walk to run' programme and as of last week - swimming is now on the agenda.

Life is good.

LONDON 2011

Back again.
2010. What a year. Finally got back to Australia to concluded family matters and catch up with family at the same time; hopefully will have the estate sorted as well; cauhtup with a friend I hadn't seen in literally years and changed jobs as well.
So what does 2011 hold. Hopefully, no surprises but a healthier and more active lifestyle is definitely on the agenda!
Wish me luck. Simples!

LHR - SIN - ADL

On July 21st - nearly five years to the date - the time had come to visit family and friends and to address estate matters in a country I had last left under the saddest of circumstances. Despite the passing of time, the loss of close family members doesn't ease - it is more that reactions are not so overwhelming - well, at least not physically. Emotions do their own thing - places, specific singers, sayings and even certain dishes suddenly ignite memories that have been stored away quietly.
So with some intrepidation I headed Down Under to Australia for a well earned 3.5 week holiday. Stopping over in Singapore for a night; straight into Adelaide; a week there with my eldest sister and her hubby; then a hop, skip, flight to Sydney to see my other sister; niece and nephew; back to Singapore and then home. Seemed simple enough.

First leg: LHR - SIN
Having endured more 30hr direct flights then I care to quote, it has become a requirement to plan a 'stop over' on the way to and back from Australia / NZ. I fly via the East as it feels strangely 'quicker'. It probably isn't but the thought of waiting in an airport for 4hrs while they change crew, clean the plane and load it up again, to then spend another 10hr+ in a tubular mode of transport just doesn't register as any contest of debate with me. I want to lie out straight at least for one day of the four I have to travel, without having to rely on the contortionist within me to negotiate the airline seats; blankets, pillows, headphones, air pressure and other passengers etc. (the contortionist I might add, that has become more and more less willing to participate with each flight!)
The decision was made - pick a posh hotel, preferably on Orchard Road (Cartier, Gucci, Chanel, darlink!) and chill out. Do the sight-seeing stuff on the way back.

Second Leg: SIN to ADL
I left the UK, midday on Wednesday and made it to Adelaide, 06:20AM on Saturday. Don't ask!
Adelaide, founded in 1836 was the first freely settled British province in Australia. Renown for it's winery regions, beaches and culture it is a lovely city.
Unfortunately I find it incredibly frustrating no matter what country or timezone, to rock up in an airport and see only two custom officers on duty to process a plane of 200+ passengers. (Hands up those who have arrived when 2-3 planes have arrived at the same time; and you have the right passport to take the express lane... and you still have to queue!?!). Wasn't impressed but while we can all contribute to the woes of such events, at times that best thing to bring along is silence. And so I did.
After nearly 1.5hr, I finally made it through customs and was greeted by what was quite simply - freezing weather. Yes - I live in the UK. We have snow, ice and sub Arctic conditions... we also have heavy coats, gloves and central heating!! The latter is not an antipodean trait. Air conditioning, yes. Central heating, no.
They breed 'em tough Down Under.

While in Adelaide, I was staying with my sister and her hubby at a villa in The Adelaide Caravan Park, Hackney. Now, to be honest the only places I stay at with any stars involved - are to do with the quality of the premises - not strategically placed balls of gas, burning millions of miles away. My sister assured me that anything under Four stars wasn't an option for them but I was still a little unsure. My fears were unfounded. The place was actually very nice... very nice indeed!! A walk in shower, large communal front room and great bedrooms. Immaculate condition to boot. Half board as we call it here.

Being winter - the park was also delightfully empty. As I had arrived early in the morning and they were flying in from Sydney that evening, what stuck me most was the need to get warm. Eventually this resulted in a hot shower and "walkabout" to scope the terrain and what adventures lay ahead.
Indeed this part of Adelaide was the affluent area. The colonial style houses with the robust and re-enforced corrugated roofs and front terraces built to endure Australian summers, balanced out with the intricate 'lacing' designs along the rims were very impressive. I spent a few evenings just walking around the suburb and looking at these amazing properties, with my trusty camera in hand. (3.5 weeks on holiday = 1,700 photos. Case and point.) Through our walks and travels we located near by, an Australian wildlife classic. A billabong. The original thing, not the clothes label. Add another primarily Australian native - the Eucalyptus tree (gum tree mate!) and if you are very lucky - as we were - the sound of magpies in background. It's not a bad way to start the day! Not bad at all.

We visited markets (Rundell Street); beaches (Glenelg - highly recommended.); food markets (for a self confessed foodie, this was fabulous!); old family friends out in Murray Bridge; Handorf, a beautiful township where the German immigrants settled; the largest Rocking Horse in the world (last time I saw that was in 1988); the most beautiful police station I've seen to date in Gumeracha, SA; Scotch College; Mug's hill; Melba's chocolate factory (NOTE: Violet Crumble. Similiar to Crunchie but the honeycomb is slightly finer and lighter. Just wonderful and successfully got my boyfriend hooked on these as well. Forgot how wonderful they are; I was also introduced to Liquorice Bullets and have become a fan) as well as local shopping malls containing one of my all time favourites... Cheezels. Worth the 20hr flight. Interestingly, Woolworths is very much alive and kicking Down Under and with a new logo and typeface - still holds some clout in the supermarket arena.

While in Adelaide we had two key agenda items. One was to meet and discuss the estate matters with the lawyers; the other was to pick up our late mother's ashes and scatter these at one of her favourite viewpoints.
The estate matters were concluded in 35 minutes and a few outstanding matters still remain. (As a result it cost me $250.00AUD to get 36 bank statements printed; the rest I won't bore you with. Wait until the book is written. You couldn't make this stuff up.)

A final farewell
Our mother had a love of many things: socialising; cooking; dancing and one particular love - sunsets. Watching until the very last glow of red had gone. In built up areas with instant street lighting, high rise buildings and all the trappings of city life this daily event often gets down-rated, taken for granted or just missed.
We had only a few days earlier made a dash to see the sunset from Mt Lofty. One of, if not the best panoramic viewpoint across Adelaide, out to the bay. (Windy Point is another well known spot but the road is very close by and it's less secluded.)
It was a last minute dash two evenings back but we made it and upon seeing the stunning sunset, came the association which made it all the more special.

We decided to scatter Mum's ashes on Mt Lofty and on a misty and cold 29 July we headed out for the final journey.
After five years I cannot honestly say whether it was:
a) the fact that at last Mum's ashes were no longer in some urn OR
b) that we managed to finally say a farewell and get some closure be it at least to one parent but while walking back to the car, I knew we had done what we came to do; we had done the best we could and that she would have approved.
Mt Lofty is a stunning location with thousands of visitors a year. Given our mother's love of socialising and sunsets - it was a poignant choice and final farewell. On a sadder note, due to irreconcilable differences with another family member, the wish to scatter both parents ashes will not happen.

The rest of the week flew past and before we knew it, my sister and hubby were heading back to Sydney to then fly back to New Zealand. I was to spend another day in Adelaide, being the happy tourist - walking through the university, the Law school, Civic centre, even past the Royal Adelaide Hospital where Dad passed away, before heading off to Sydney NSW.

A need for speed

After a shakey start, at last this little meerkat is starting to show the 'urban road warrior' that lies within. Past buses; trucks; beside vans; mini cabs and black cabs! Travel time has been halved! Thigh muscles, strengthened! Cardio workout off the radar and a sense of numbness now from the waist down - but it's worth every cadence rotation.
As a side comment: General shower/bathroom facilities (work; most gyms etc). Why don't they have hairdryers?
Which EU muppet decided that 'hairdryers should not be used in bathrooms?'. C'mon. Own up! And yet hotels do. Lower voltage perhaps - but that's better than nowt.

Focus, Grasshopper!

There is something deeply satisfying (albeit a little worrying) about repeatedly hitting an object - as hard as you can, as often as you can!!
After completing a return journey by bike to Parliament Hill and home again yesterday, today's effort is more homebound. Boxing.
Not the Las Vegas / Royal Albert Hall type boxing but rather the marital arts fitness and cardio workout style.
Oh, this should be interesting!

Cycle - Part 2: To cleat or not to cleat

While the majority of vehicle users are surprisingly patient, it's best not to dwell too long after the lights change.
In my mind I was like a cat, coiled to pounce on my bike pedal with the burst of energy needed to get the process ignited.
In reality - bit of a gap in the concept to be honest. Actually - make that chasm.
"Pedal too high. Damn, almost need a ladder to jump from to get it at that angle..."
"Pedal too low. Crickey - I've seen sheep move fast. Barely moved."
"Finally - perfect height, good take off. Excellent. Oh bother. Red light! Stop. Repeat all over again!

After close scrutiny, of the metatarsal adorning type, I started to distinguish between the 'cleats and non cleats' in the cycling kingdom.
Cleats, for those not too sure (as I was) - are specific stubs on shoes that rugby players, sprinters etc as well as cyclists use to enhance their overall performance.

With cyclists, the footwear cleat, snaps into specifically designed pedals and until you move your foot in a specific way to release the mechanism, both foot and pedal are melded into one.
At this point I spotted the tiny little flaw in getting to use this cunningly designed little feature. Understandably somewhat wary, I looked around to see if there was a more gentler way to get use to this foot / pedal bonding approach, before commiting to the cleat way of life.
Yes - pedal straps. Again, a simple application. A cage of sorts, is attached to the pedal(s) with a strap securing the general shape. The toes, up to the ball of the foot slide into this cage. It helps with take offs; in the wet and so forth.

So off I set with my boyfriend who had experiences of cleats. He wisely (and quietly) followed behind me. He certainly knew something I didn't.

For this first journey, I had the pedal strap with cage attached to my right pedal only. (Remember this factor.)
Half an hour later, a few fleeting moments of forgetting about the strap, I had avoided the whole situation of getting 'trapped' with possible consequences.
Well done me!

But wait. The plot thickens...

Cycling up to the house. A feeling of relief. Happy to have survived. Still thinking 'phew - made it'. Meanwhile, the cycle has come to a graceful halt.

Then it begins... a slow, gentle lean to the right. Further... bit further. The gentle lean is registering...
"Why am I still moving to the right"
"my foot should have stopped me"...
"my foot should have.." My foot. MY FOOT!!!!!!!!

Too late. As quick as it took me to think what to do, I had passed the point of no return, and was instead, "at one with the road". Interesting angle that!
With immediate effect, a memo to self: Do not like this angle. STOP. Do not repeat exercise again. STOP.

It's amazing how hard it is to move when pinned by your own bike. Bizarre. Thankfully due to my passion of two other high risks sports, I had not put out my hands / arms or elbows. So no damage to me. After what felt like an age, I pushed the bike aside and managed to get up, dust myself off and get to the house.

My boyfriend, dutifully ensured I was OK and then gave the bike and pedals a stern talking too. He brought the bikes in and parked them in the hallway. It was only afterwards, when the anesthetic of embarrassment had worn off for me, he then recited the whole event from the angle that he saw it.
As a behavioural analyst, I observe the verbal and non verbal communications that people display. Strangely his narration continued, it become more and more dispersed with snorts and gasps for air. Apparently, when people laugh so hard, it gets to a stage when breathing becomes a really vital part of the moment so this physical response is quite normal! (In fairness, it must have been funny to watch, literally in slow motion, but I won't tell him that. ;)

As it was, it was only my ego that hit the ground that day. Another lesson learnt on the Cycle lane of Life.