Archive for the ‘My Life’ Category

Now I know what you’re thinking. Hey aren’t you supposed to be dead? I admit that is a logical conclusion to draw considering my scarcity in these parts. But if I was dead I would no doubt be harassing the hell out of you. So just be thankful that I am as healthy as an ox, and full of vim and vigour. I’ve actually always wanted to know what vim is and now thanks to the wonder that is Google, I know that vim is ‘lively or energetic spirit’. As an aside it’s also apparently a text editor of some sort, although at that point my eyes glazed over so can’t really tell you much more than that.

Anyway if you think my absence has been due to some life changing mind altering event, you would be wrong. I still don’t have any children that I’m aware of. High fives himself. Hey don’t judge me. Kids are expensive and I like money. Plus I like playing with matches so what kind of example would that set.

I haven’t moved or relocated. Although that’s probably because I hate packing with a passion that borders on religious fervour. I suppose part of the reason I don’t like packing is because it reminds me how much junk I’ve accumulated. Then I start feeling all guilty and stuff and have irrational thoughts like, ‘perhaps I should throw out that card I got for my 12th birthday’, or, ‘yes Kris Kross will make you jump, jump, but do I really still need to be hanging onto their official t-shirt?’ Needless to say I don’t want to go down that road again. After all that Kris Kross t-shirt is practically an antique and if I’m not mistaken antique is code for expensive. I’ve carefully studied old people so I know stuff like this. Of course by carefully studied I mean I’ve hung out with my grandparents a couple of times.

I haven’t changed jobs recently either. Still in the same one. I even celebrated my work anniversary there last month. Okay I’m not sure I’m using the word ‘celebrated’ in the right context here. They didn’t buy me cake or even get me a balloon. It made me sad but then I realised they pay me actual money, not like the pretend Monopoly kind, and then I was happy again. Money buys bacon and bacon makes the world go round. And by round, I really mean round, because, well bacon is fattening. But bacon makes me happy.

Anyway my point is this, not much has changed. I’m still alive, still half man half awesome, and still slippery when wet. That is all. Further updates as events warrant.

Tomorrow Never Comes

Posted: March 19, 2013 in My Life
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Wow I am actually fairly impressed with myself. It hasn’t in fact taken me another two months to pen my next blog instalment. I’ve never really thought of myself as being an overachiever but perhaps I haven’t been doing myself justice.

I’ve been stuck in a funk of late. Kind of going through the motions rather haphazardly. I could make a lot of excuses for why that’s the case. Work commitments, spreading myself too thin, general apathy, who knows? When all is said and done, they’re just excuses. I have a feeling I’ve just been picking the path of least resistance.

I appreciate that I am being a bit hard on myself because it’s not as though I’ve suddenly become a slovenly hermit. But I seem to have made peace with mediocrity in the interim. I’m not sure that’s tolerable. I’m feeling restless. Not in a ‘I must suddenly go out and buy a pink spandex outfit and go bungee jumping’ kind of way. After all it’s a bit early for a mid-life crisis. It’s more profound than that I hope.

Somebody said something to me the other day about engaging fully with the present, giving it your full attention. It really resonated with me because too often we are too focused on the future, or wasting time chastising ourselves for mistakes we’ve made in the past, instead of just making the most of now. Obviously that’s a lot easier said than done and I’m not advocating the ‘living each day as if it were your last’ approach because in reality that’s impractical and delusional. Rather I’m on a mission to make the most of what I have. It starts with the simple things. If I’m talking to someone, then I’m going to really talk to them. I’m not going to pretend to listen to them whilst simultaneously checking in on Facebook on my mobile. Perhaps therein lays the problem. Instead of attempting to do everything at once, I’m going to do one thing at time and do it properly.

In any event talk is cheap. I’m interested to see if I can put it into practice. Perhaps I’ll conduct a social experiment for a week. Commit to spending the next 7 days full engaged in the present, no matter how mundane or trivial it might be at that moment in time. Who knows perhaps I’ll find it’s not all it’s cracked up to be but then again…

HOUSE BROKEN

Posted: October 31, 2012 in My Life
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Where do I begin? A question often asked by directionally challenged runners and in this case me. I haven’t blogged in so long it almost seems disingenuous to refer to myself as a blogger. Thankfully my lack of verbosity isn’t due to bone idleness or inclement apathy rather it’s a by-product of circumstance.

John Lennon once said life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. Sadly for John life had other plans for him. During my sabbatical from WordPress I have begun a journey that many people tentatively refer to as ‘growing up’. Rather fortuitously it hasn’t sucked as much as I thought it would. That doesn’t mean to suggest that I think being an adult is awesome. It just means with the right amount of imagination, and a sense of humour, life can be pleasurable at best and mediocre at worst.

My groundbreaking, earth shattering, read all about it, news is that I have become a man of means. I broke open my piggy bank, counted all the spare change, and decided on a whim to buy a house. I jest of course it wasn’t a whim, it was more of a crap myself moment when I realised how much houses were and how poor I was going to be as a result in the foreseeable future.

Of course I only have myself to blame. I am, to paraphrase Madonna, just a material boy. I could have bought a hovel. I would have had a roof over my head and enough money left over to use it as wallpaper. Sadly however I had stars in my eyes and many years of being brainwashed by Cribs had led me to believe that a 12 person Jacuzzi was a right not a luxury.

In the end I decided to buy a palace. Okay technically speaking it’s not strictly a palace. There’s no moat surrounding the house although there is a fair amount of electric fencing around the perimeter. Shocking I know but true nonetheless. The garden is so large I imagine that if I take a wrong turning it might take me a week before I find my way back to civilisation. The pool is daunting. The pessimist in me says I’d never be able to hold my breath long enough to swim a lap underwater. The optimist in me says a couple of laps a week and I’ll soon have the physique of Michael Phelps. Obviously I like lying to myself.

Despite the many charms of the house, and my overriding excitement at the fact that I can walk around the house butt naked if I so please, I take a look at the garden and there’s only one thought that fills my head. I can get a puppy! At this stage I’m leaning towards getting a Labrador. I picture us hitting the wooded trails and running many ‘happy’ miles together. A companion to my crazy convoluted impression that running is fun. In reality I’ll probably be spending my life cleaning up dog poop in the garden. But for now I’m happy to let my imagination call the shots…

I think I almost died at gym this morning. Okay so perhaps I’m exaggerating a bit there but I definitely had an out of body experience. It’s bizarre how an apparatus that looks so innocuous can lead to bi-polar disorder. One minute I’m euphoric and the next moment I’m wondering if I have inherent masochistic tendencies.

I am referring to the treadmill. I think it would be more apt if it was called dreadmill. Of course I have no one but myself to blame. Every morning I wake up and convince myself that running is fun. Apparently I like lying to myself. Don’t get me wrong there are some aspects of running I enjoy. For example I love going to the shops and buying the latest running shoes or getting the latest moisture wicking top. Yes I realise that sounds sad but I don’t care what you think. Okay don’t judge me, I am but a sensitive, delicate soul.

I would like to say that I ran an epic marathon-esque distance this morning hence all the drama and wailing. Regrettably however I only ran 10km. In my defence I hopped on the treadmill, and feeling full of joie de vivre, said to myself (in my head obviously because I find talking to myself in public attracts curious stares) lets crank this baby up. My enthusiasm was fleeting. After 20 minutes I had to start singing songs in my head just to distract myself from the ongoing torture. Surprisingly Britney Spears songs are rather soothing.

After 40 odd minutes I stepped off the treadmill with a new appreciation for life. From now on I would subsist on a diet of McDonald’s burgers and never do a lick of exercise ever again. I think the trauma had made me delusional. Fast forward 3 hours and it appears my legs have finally forgiven me although they’ve made it quite clear that this kind of behaviour will only be tolerated in small doses and on special occasions. I must concede though that I have been walking around with a smirk on my face. For some reason  because I dragged my lazy ass, albeit a cute one, out of bed this morning I suddenly feel morally superior to everyone else. I’m feeling high on healthy endorphins. I think it’s time I start praying that I don’t turn into a hippy.

So despite my protestations to the contrary I guess I need to make peace with the fact that I actually love running. Whether I’m on the treadmill or hitting the road, it’s my personal form of meditation.