Joining in with Su from Zimmerbitch and the rest of the crew for a review of June.
Firstly, the weather. This month started off with a deluge of rain, much needed in many parts of our country. Though not necessarily all at once. As fast as the rain appeared it disappeared and the sun shone for days on end. Push the repeat button.
Lately, I’ve noticed something’s been missing during my early morning walks, not the obvious like the Squire [he was the sensible one staying warm at home], it was an unseen more like a feeling. Our smallish city center has lost some of it’s vitality. Mainly due to the deconstruction of old buildings and the construction of new big city plans and then the ultimate lockdown. Cranes dominate airspace where new buildings will eventually stand. It will be years before the place is up and running at full throttle. I am not going anywhere in a hurry. I can wait. In the meantime, there are excellent cycle and walk trails to give myself that sense of freedom in such restricted times.
I’m an Active Relaxer
Lickety split around Tauranga’s cycle trails on my new bike. Oh, did I mention the purchase of a new electric bike, our second vehicle? I’m loving the power assistance. So dreamy in a safe way!.
I confess, I’m no fancy Lycra clothed speedy cyclist. Nowadays, I go at a slower pace while on two wheels unlike in my youthful days when “no hands on the handlebars” was the “thing” to do. Somehow, I’ve misplaced my daredevil streak. Thankfully, my enjoyment of cycling hasn’t been lost.
Frocks on Bikes
After many attempts to meet up with this fun-sounding group, I managed to do just that this month. A very enjoyable time was had cycling and chatting with other like-minded people. There were even a couple of women with frocks on. I was suitably impressed, as it looked as if I was trying to impersonate a polar bear with my too many layers of clothing. On a positive side, I stayed warm, and that nasty cold wind didn’t chill my bones. I’m looking forward to warmer days and shaved legs to show off my new summer frock. Until then, the polar bear look stays.
Half Marathon Training
During my walks, my head is full of rattling ball bearings carrying bouncing thoughts, with most, about mundane things to organise in life, like meal planning etc.
Then, there is the deep and meaningful; this is where it gets tricky.
Usually, this insightfulness occurs on long walks; this months dialogue was how competing in a marathon, and life is quite similar.
On Race Day, you start with a whizz and a bang full of enthusiasm of obtaining a new Personal best, and then mistakes start occurring ones you haven’t corrected during training, “shouldn’t have eaten eggs the night before a race”, sort of thoughts.
Then the aches and doubts start happening with fierce revenge as kms are eaten away. Suddenly, out of nowhere that second burst of energy occurs, and everything in the universe becomes bright and clear.
You can conquer this, and you do.
Racing over that finish line, exhausted, exhilarated and in the words of Ed Hilary “we knocked the bastard off.”
Development of Dark Humour
This month we’ve had long chats interspersed with well-nourished humour. It’s a coping strategy and so is fine-tuning the dark side of said humour. Every day includes laughter, some days there’s even belly wobbling laughs. Alongside chatting with ease about living with terminal cancer and what’s going to happen, other days we act like ostriches. Ostriches don’t do belly laughs.
Often people may think those who enjoy dark humour have something terribly wrong with them. After all, what type of person appreciates jokes about death or illness?
However, the truth is at some point in all our lives negativity, illness and unfortunate events can be hard to cope with, and humour is one amazing tool for us to move past these experiences, change our perspective, and take some control over them. We will talk about cancer and life, literally to death. Writing about it on a regular basis is different. As I haven’t reached that point where I have fully understood it’s impact on our lives or perhaps the lack of it.
From my personal experience, I often find that those who can be the funniest people in life are also those who have gone through an substantial amount of shit in life.
The Cat has the last say
Rocky is his name, who knows what he wants when he wants it and who is to administer his every whim. Lately, the furball and us have seen quite a bit of each other. Rocky happens to live with my parents. With each visit, there is attention to be given to that furball before it’s diverted to anyone else. A pat, and a chat – off he slinks to his possie in the sun.
He does have a purr-fect life.
To join in the group fun, head on over to:
“The Changing Seasons” – Su from Zimmerbitch