Just Resting

[Sweder]

A place to post random ramblings during the enforced dolldrums.
I'm parked in the News Cafe on Ocean Drive, green eyes focused on the joggers and speed-walkers tearing up and down the sandy strip. I head south later, to Colombia, my first visit to that country. No doubt I'll find no end of astonishing places to run, mentally kicking a can as I shuffle about.

Some tasty weather to report. At 5am, nudged from my bed by that harsh mistress Jetlag, I stood on my balcony and watched a storm gather offshore. The wind picked up, and as the sun rose behind vast banks of cloud the rain raced in to lash the shore. Palms bent in supplication, warm rain splattering my body as the skies darkened. I love the power of nature, so wild, willful, destructive.

The early risers scurried for shelter, pastel blurs against the shadowed beach. My envy grew, the perfect weather for a beach run. Ah well. Must pack, must dash, the circus rolls in to Cartagena. Weather permitting.

   

[marathondan]

Ah, the forum wouldn't be the same without early morning weather photos from Sweder.

[glaconman]

Indeed. There are times when I don't envy Sweders continual program of travel. Then there are times when I am insanely jealous. Reminds me of monsoon on the malabar coast. Storms make you feel so alive. And I guess home to Sweder will always be more precious to him after being away so much.

[El Gordo]

A place to post random ramblings during the enforced dolldrums.
I'm parked in the News Cafe on Ocean Drive,

Save me the Google search, dude.

Where are you? Country would be good but I'll settle for a continent as an opening gambit. Ta.

[marathondan]

Save me the Google search, dude.

Where are you? Country would be good but I'll settle for a continent as an opening gambit. Ta.

Come on, it wasn't that hard: http://www.google.co.uk/search?q=news+cafe+ocean+drive

[Sweder]

Save me the Google search, dude.

Where are you? Country would be good but I'll settle for a continent as an opening gambit. Ta.

Come on, it wasn't that hard: http://www.google.co.uk/search?q=news+cafe+ocean+drive

Correct, but obselete. I'm now in a hotel deep in the barios of Cartagena de Indias, Colombia. It's what I imagine Mexico City might have been in the 1960's. Cracked, semi-flooded roads, just wide enough for two cars, tanned, grubby kids in brightly coloured clothes, stray (but well-fed and remarkably sanguin) dogs. I love it. If only my job didn't entail dealing with customs, moving freight in and out of buildings singularly ill-designed for the purpose with rusted, broken equipment in oppressive heat I'd be laughing.

Speaking of laughter, most of the people here barely have a pot to piss in, yet they are amongst the warmest, friendliest people I've ever met. Their lives are snared in the tentacles of illogical latin beaurocracy - it took five hours for the venue to figure out if we had permission to move in this afternoon, by which time it was this evening. Yet they'd gladly help a fat loud Gringo, even after he'd mauled their native tongue asking for directions or trying to purchase food and drink.

Last night I planted myself at the bar of a lowly Cantina. Colombia had just kicked off against Salvador. Three beers and half a (delicious) pizza later the home team were 3-0 up, Falcao scoring one that my Gran would have finished.

   

Despite the hysterical commentary and the wild celebrations that greeted each goal, I sensed a feeling of disappointment in the room. After some gestures and more mangled Spanglish I discerned that Salvador are on a par with San Marino.
'Ah!' I exclaimed, holding up five fingers.
'Si', nodded my genial host, smiling as he polished a glass vigorously.
As victories goes this felt as hollow as any.

[Sweder]

I left Cartagena having made a friend, if one can make friends with a place.
In a more tangible sense I made friends with several inhabitants, not least Husband and Wife, the canine couple living just around the corner from my hotel.

As the TOC revellers cavorted to the late-night Salsa beat, I crept away to source roast chicken from a local vendor. I sat on the filthy curb, shredding the juicy white meat and crispy skin. H&W ventured out from under their hand-cart, sauntering as nonchalant as a couple taking a stroll in the moonlight. I held out a piece and Husband, his muzzle scarred from countless street brawls, gently nudged Wife in front. She took the first piece with all the delicacy of one of Roedean's finest. Husband refused his until she'd had several pieces.

   

As Husband took his, as gently as his mate, a figure shuffled from the shadows. Wild, greasy hair, bleary eyes blinking out of a sun-baked face, rags hanging off his skinny frame, his hand outstretched. My stomach lurched, caught in the act of feeding dogs when people were hungry. I grinned sheepishly, proffering the polystyrene tray. He smiled back, the few surviving teeth white in the gloom as he perched next to me on the roadside. He ate slowly, enjoying the meat. I watched the dogs return quietly to their lair, seemingly happy to share.

I returned to my spotless, air-conditioned room and lay on the plump, clean bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing with all my heart I could do more. But, I reasoned, as sleep crept up on my weary bones, I'd done something, which was more than many ever do. For now, and until I can change my own circumstances, I'll have to be happy with that.

[marathondan]

Well at least you didn't run away, as many would have done. The poor will always be with us, as some bloke once said. You can always drop a few items into the food bank at the supermarket, and hope the good karma propagates across the Atlantic somehow.

Sounds like the canine behaviour is the stuff of a David Attenborough film. But your guilty reaction also sums up my views on animal charities.

[Sweder]

I'm morally split on the animal welfare thing. Part of me, the part that is a father of a child with a life-threatening condition, would happily see any number of animals experimented on in search of a cure. Let the carcasses pile up, I say, in the name of science and the betterment of mankind.

The other part thinks that how a society treats the weak and the vulnerable, no matter how many legs they may have, says more about it and its people than GDP or IMF World Rankings. The fact that a country populated by many with so little still cares for it's stray dogs speaks volumes to me.

Suffering in any form is abhorrent.
As it happens I joined the PlanZheros project two years ago, encouraging local business to pass on their surplus to those in need via discrete food banks and saintly missionaries. It works on a local level. You'd be surprised at how many families in this outwardly wealthy, rural idyl can't afford to feed themselves properly.

[Sweder]

   

Ah ... those were the days ...

[marathondan]

Yes, there was little point checking email more than once a day back then.

15 years hence... streaming video calls onto our contact lenses? Technology will go from desktop to portable to wearable to implants.

(Meanwhile people will still be begging for food in Cartagena.)

[Charliecat5]

Yes, there was little point checking email more than once a day back then.

15 years hence... streaming video calls onto our contact lenses? Technology will go from desktop to portable to wearable to implants.

(Meanwhile people will still be begging for food in Cartagena.)

Yes... but we will be able to see the starving street children in glorious HD3D as it happens... wherever we are. It makes you proud.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I'd seriously consider going phone-less altogether, except apparently that's now a very hip-sterish thing to do.

Gad, you just can't win these days!

[Sweder]

All done. A snip here, a vacuum there. Just two vampirish bloody holes to show, and the first painless weekend in four months. An hour after the op I was downing coffee and egg mayo sarnies like there was no tomorrow. Next morning, a twenty minute stroll over the downs. No pain-killers required.



And so it seems the excuses, like my wounds, have all dried up. Post op the Doc opined that all was rosy in the knee-garden, the damage to my tibial plateau no more than a scratch. All being well I'll get the green light to resume light training in a week or so. Not a moment too soon. The thought of being able to amble through Autumns golden light makes my heart skip a beat and the spare tyre lurking around my midriff quiver.

Exercises, walks (just managed 30 minutes pain-free through the brown and gold carpets of Chailey Wood) and a modicum of dietary control are the order of the day. And then, I shall start on the long road back.

[marathondan]

Fabulous news! I call for a celebratory chorus of "Knees up mother brown".

Meanwhile:

TAKE

IT

EASY

[Charliecat5]

I have had a cunning plan that I would run up and over the Cat Bells this coming spring. However, having walked up them today, albeit in torrential rain and gale force winds, I realised that I was still along way from this. So I need to really start munching the miles over the Downs... and I need a fruitbat to provide the motivation and encouragement.

So I'm with you big man. Once that knee is operational, let's go.

Just don't rush the recovery, else you'll be back to square one.

[Sweder]

I have, to date, obeyed instructions with religious devotion. No driving, heaps of RICE. Softly, softly, catchee monkey. I've waited sixteen weeks to get a sniff of a run, I'm not going to jump the gun now. It's been a saluatory lesson in patience and restraint.

Next, increasingly demanding/ lengthy walks. Once I've seen the doc (end of this week), IF he's happy, light jogging/ walking every day. If I can get to BlackCap and back by the end of November I see no reason not to push on towards the Key West Half on 17th Jan.

Quad work is key to protect the knee.
Repeat ad nauseum.

[Sweder]

Post script. Just found out my post-op briefing is NEXT Friday.
The temptation to run before then will be huge, tempered only by treacherous conditions under foot.
Proper downland mizzle this morning

   

[Sweder]

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step"
Lao-tzu, The Way of Lao-tzu
Chinese philosopher (604 BC - 531 BC)

And so, it begins.
400 steps, carefully jogged, my first in running shoes in four months.

[marathondan]

HE'S BACK! And it's a day early for reanimation of the dead!

Great news Sweder.