|
With my running shoes through Old Sydney Town. Or, "Hello, my name is Damian."
A rare day free of work, travel, thingy-ing or whatcha-mahoosits allows me to catch up with RC threads and post something of my own...
I've now been in Sydney just nigh on a month and the love affair continues to grow. And just like falling in love with someone, a new city can, and has changed life immensely. In fact pretty much every aspect of life is somehow altered by this new abode (and here I should point out that whilst officially temporary, I am more or less determined to make it permanent).
It's an odd city in many respects, and I'm not sure how to describe it, but I had coffee with a friend of mine who three years ago moved from London to Sydney and made some interesting comparisons - chief among them was that whilst London is (apparently) a town you get to know pretty well, large slabs of Sydney remain untouched and unexplored even after three years because it's such a spread out kind of place with a strange, but effective road and public transport system. And that reminds me - Richard Branson is currently in town and said in a newspaper interview that after a difficult period, his ownership of British Rail has now worked its magic and the trains are "brilliant" and running "fantastically well". A question for you Britishers - is he right?
Speaking of trains, as I may have previously mentioned, I spend two hours on the train each work day and am loving it - the chance to spend a large slab of time reading and (especially) listening to music without the nagging thought that there are "more productive" things that ought to be done, is fabulous. And as a measure of how Sydney can be slightly eccentric, I have noticed many odd things during my short time using the said locomotive transportation. Perhaps not as odd as El Gordo's peach-coloured bath robe and matching towel experience, but on my train I have seen surfers in nothing but wet suits carrying surf boards 90 minutes from the beach in mid-winter, a man carrying a microwave oven and a vacuum cleaner (making me think that must be a very time-consuming way to move house) and a young bare-footed guy wearing only a singlet and board shorts (mid winter here remember) carrying a volleyball. Sometimes I spend ages just trying to figure out what these people are doing. Quite entertaining.
Also entertaining was the station announcer at Central Station during one peak evening crush hour. I had just arrived up the stairs from the tunnel I use to get to the station when the p.a. blared into life with a young, unusually enthusiastic Aussie guy saying "Good evening everyone my name is Damian and I'll be your station announcer this evening. Thank you all for choosing to travel with CityRail tonight and ... er, I've completely forgotten what it was I was supposed to tell you. Hang on a tick..." What it was he had forgotten I don't know as my train arrived at that moment, but it was a welcome change from the usual "(indecipherable) platform (indecipherable) departs in (indecipherable) minutes stoppping at (indecipherable) and then all stations to (indecipherable). Thank you."
Fortunately I don't normally have to travel on the crush hour trains as I work fantastically long hours in my stupendously demanding new job - well, I'm exagerrating a tad, but my normal work day goes soemthing like this:
Up at 0445 to catch the 0541 train to the city to start work at 0640. I then leave at 1915 and catch the 1925 train home, arriving back at 2020 in time to snaffle a bit of food before hitting the hay to be up again at 0445...
The advantage to this mayhem is that I only have to work 6 days per fortnight, a life style I'm actually really enjoying. My dream of 4 day weekends is now sort of reality, the only snag being that I still have to put in 40 hours each week... but I think I'm going to love it long term.
I'm currently living about 30km north of the city, in a relatively small and peaceful suburb. It's quiet, undulating territory, with little traffic which means it's not too bad for running. There are no beaches, being a long way from the ocean, so I've had to get used to undulating suburban terrain again, which is no bad thing. There are no long hills as such, but plenty of short, sharp hilly bits which can be demanding. Still, on the whole very pleasant running.
The strange working arrangements and whole new way of life have of course meant I've dropped all thoughts for the moment of major race goals. For now that hardly matters as I'm maintaining my fitness levels and being completely absorbed by my new town. And I'm feeling great. Despite the reduced mileage my weight has fallen to its lowest levels in over 20 years, which I'm attributing to a moderate amount of running, a careful diet and reduced alcohol intake. And persistence perhaps, although at times it doesn't feel like it.
For the moment I'm concentrating on my new job, making it a permanent position and then looking for similarly permanent accomodation. Hopefully that will all happen over the next 2-3 months. Then I can begin to settle down adn think again about longer term race plans. For now however I am just happy doing 30 and 45 minute runs - great for fitness and not too taxing on the motivation gland.
And loving it!
Keep plodding...
MLC Man.
|
With my running shoes through Old Sydney Town. Or, "Hello, my name is Damian."
