Nahoon Point Parkrun

Having been a squatter in the marketing industry for a while, I'm constantly surprised by how effective the repackaging, or re-configuration of an existing product can be.

Such is the Parkrun concept - some might say its the T20 of running.  In order to have a birthday celebration, without actually having to organise a birthday celebration, I suggested whoever was free come down to the Nahoon Point Parkrun on Saturday morning, 08:00 sharp, and then stick around for breakfast afterwards at Reef Cafe.

So it turns out the social running scene in East London is alive and kicking and a crowd of hundreds had pitched for the race.  I use the word race loosely - its not a race, if you race you look silly - its a solid 5km over all manner of terrain including an epic moment along the crest of Bat's Cave.  It's free and a great opportunity for other people to see you being energetic and to complement you accordingly.

More information: http://www.parkrun.co.za/nahoonpoint/
Starts: 08:00 sharp every Saturday - be there by 07:40 to get a good parking.

Officially the worst photo of me running, ever.

Tomato Trot 2013

Best photo of me running ever, hows that tongue... photo used without permission from Action Gallery - https://www.facebook.com/actiongallery, sorry okes, found it on Facebook...

Saturday saw me put the books down for a few hours to join the masses for the 2013 Tomato Trot, one of the increasingly popular fun runs on the East London running calendar.

It took great restraint to not spend the 15kms complaining to those around me about the heat and hills - I'm not one for whining en route because lets be honest, we get ourselves into these situations.  I do enjoy the occasional encounters you have though, as you find yourself linking up with people travelling at a similar average speed.

One such lady, who was running a far more consistent pace than me, remarked while passing me up a hill that she probably shouldnt have done the Parkrun at Nahoon beach that morning.  I imagine this was done to hammer home the fact that she, a woman, had just passed me up a hill, in the sweltering heat, having already put down 5kms on the dunes.  Admittedly, woman don't really think like that... but all the same, rather than be impressed what I was really thinking was 'Are you out of your FREAKING MIND, you must be off your rocker to have run twice on a day like today".

It made me want to beat her, beat her for being loopy - you shouldn't win at anything if you're deranged.  Unfortunately, I'd abandoned all expectations of a good time at the 5km mark, and had resigned myself to making good on the water sachets by 12km - the goal was now making it home.  All competitive inclinations left wilting in the sun on the gravel road.

Update: You can download the results here,

Apocalypse

I didn't really buy into the Mayan apocalypse, seemed like a long shot... unlike modern day doomsday prophesies; "Petrol will be at R10 a litre by 2012....", "... JZ will be relelected...", "...your internet connection will soon die, for no apparent reason".

In doomsday theorizing, it seems we have twin axes; scale of disaster vs accuracy.  The Mayans certainly went all in on "Total world destruction", which is more catchy than "A tank of petrol will cost you R600 in 2012...".

Then who are these prudent, present day, petrol-price prophets?  Think tanks, government agencies, the press?  If they included a reference to an ancient tribe that was fond of angular buildings, would we take them more seriously?  Would the 9Gag world take hold of the, this time certain, disaster or would they all be at the petrol station filling up.

I've just noticed my work email inbox is at 19129 emails... I wonder if Microsoft will be able to handle the load at 21120?  Or will it be the end of my Outlook?  Outlook Apocalypse 2012.... coming soon to theaters "He never backed up".

Context

In the last days of our old company, our boss brought a guy in to try and rescue the administrative and leadership vacuum that existed.  His favourite advice was "Context, context, context".

Context is indeed a crucial lense through which life must be viewed.  For instance... imagine yourself hiking along the Transkei coast, sun baking down but you're kept cool by a soothing sea breeze, blowing over your unwashed, salty skin.  You reach for your water bottle, sip its refreshing contents, brush your brow and soak in the sandy beauty around you.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim... "look everyone, a cute crab, at home in its natural environment".  A crowd gathers and observes the crustacean.

Scenario two...

You get home late'ish one night, after a visit to the Summer Camp site.  You missed supper... the Chicken and Pepperdew sandwich you ate at 8pm didn't do its job and you're scavenging for something to eat.  You find a packet of two minute noodles, and while they're cooking you find yourself lying on the couch.

You're lying still, but you can hear the couch creaking.  You notice but ignore it.  Minutes later, the creaking noise happens again, you are now  confused, having moved from a sub conscious awareness, to a front of mind curiosity.  You stand up... and freeze, mortified.

As if in a horror movie, you see a large set of legs, creeping slowly into the light over the bean bag.  You panic, you wonder how a tarantula got into South Africa, and then into your flat.  You reassess, you notice its more crab like, less spider like.  You panic again - crabs are just as bad as spiders (OUT OF CONTEXT).

Calm returns, you arm yourself with a broom, rearrange the furniture and evict your unwelcome housemate.

Sugar

Other than the presence of pets, working from a home brings you into contact with some unusual visitors.  A gent, John I think, arrived to tune the piano late last week.  I soon realized that any productive potential my day had would perish if John had his way and so I quickly offered to make him a cup of coffee, before I dashed back to my burrow.

He digressed into his coffee drinking habits, and then stumbled when he asked for 3 and a half spoons of sugar.  It's a strange thing, sugar.  Somehow sweet coffee has become socially unacceptable, and heaven forbid you prefer anything more than 2 spoons and milk - which is sort of the Toyota Corrola of coffee preference.

I say, stand up o ye' with a sweet tooth.  Hold high the sugar spoon as you ladle free will into your mug.  As a member of the no-sugar elite, I will stand with you in our shared love of coffee.

Shampoo

I grew up using the legendary, and still available, Johnson and Johnson's Baby Shampoo.  I think Mom was still buying it for us into late primary school.  It came in a hygienic pee-yellow colour and either it did the job, or it was cheap - I can't be sure.

That said, my hair made it through my formative years.  New phase, new shampoo and I started using Dad's Gill.  Gill, a marketing achievement, the only real men's shampoo.  If men actually helped with grocery shopping, it would no doubt have competition.

When I moved into my own place, and realized how expensive cleaning equipment was, I didn't last long on the Gill-wagon.  It was back to J&J's family shampoo, which is similar to the infant variety, only it also strips paint, cleans toilets and disinfects drains.  Or so I imagine.

For a number of years I bought into the fact that J&J Family is half the price of everything else on the shelf.  Right up until the day my sister gave me a small bottle of some, other, fancy looking shampoo... for the flight to 'Nam.  Over the next week, in the 30 degree heat, 200 million percent humidity, my hair staged a come back tour... which given the circumstances is remarkable.  When I got home I bought some new shampoo... I'm easing into things and have gone with something slightly more expensive than my beloved J&J Paint stripper... keeping an eye on the results.

Hadeda

I was running down McJanet Drive this morning, slightly misty eyed but enjoying being out and about.  I spotted a Hadeda sitting right ontop of the bulb on a streetlight, sort of leaning over the road - and importantly, directly above my path.  It occurred to me in my sleepy state that being pooped on by a Hadeda at 5am is probably the worst thing that could ever happen to a man, with obvious exclusions.

It is only by divine intervention that Hadeda's are present, exclusively, when I have nothing to throw at them.  This morning, unarmed, we passed each other, warily, no doubt to meet again.  I've tried before, we get a lot of birds in our garden and I've launched a range of twigs, leaves, too-small-to-count stones and angry stares at them... especially the loud ones.

One day... one day I'll be holding an apple, or a half empty Coke, or shoes that I'm not that attached to...