Monthly Archives: May 2013

You talkin’ to me?

Ever since our two boys L and C arrived on the scene, I have rarely managed to talk to my wife like we used to B.C. (Before Children). Back in those days, our conversations were spontaneous and fun. Most importantly, they went back and forth in a coherent sequential string.

Enter the Children!

Everybody, talk at once

Everybody, talk at once

Now that they are 6 and 4, going on to 16 and 14, my wife and I can’t for the life of us converse in a normal human way when these little ones are around.

To begin with, there is no eye contact. This is because our attention is constantly diverted by the boys’ needs, be it gluing together their cardbard ninja swords or breaking up their no-holds-barred ninja fights. Even during those brief moments when our eyes do meet, I know hers are preoccupied trying to see through mine, so that she can keep a watch on the mischief the kids are up to behind my back. Continue reading

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Running the show

According to race organisers, there were 10,451 runners who successfully crossed the finish line in last Sunday’s Sydney Morning Herald Half Marathon, yours truly proudly among them. However, I can tell you for a fact that the population on, off and along course that day was easily double that official figure.

Champions!

Champions!

Firstly, there were the runners who, for whatever reason, did not finish. There is no shame in that. Indeed, it could happen to the best of them, due to injuries, cramps, hangovers from the previous night or some macho-dare between friends gone horribly wrong.

Secondly, there were the numerous spectators along the course. Some of them fanatically cheered on their family members and friends, often waving some amusing signs (“Hurry mum, I want breakfast. Dad’s still asleep!“) and some not so amusing ones (“My dad’s in front of you, and he’s 68!“). Continue reading

I’m just a little bit caught in the middle

While still some months away, the impending arrival of my 40th birthday is really wreaking some

Thinking about the big Four-O

Thinking about the big Four-O

havoc in my mind these days. It is prompting some strange introspection, especially during those long runs when there is nothing but wind at my back, sweat on my brow and a sympathetic ear in my head.

On the one hand, I am grateful for the many blessings in my life. Indeed, whenever I pound one foot in front of another along an often picturesque running path (whether in rain, hail or sunshine), I often wonder how many men/women would give their right nut/(insert whatever is appropriate for female) to be in my position – one that is filled with good health, great kids and an irreplaceable soul mate, all surrounded by a supportive network. Continue reading

When two runners collide

Hey, have you heard of this guy who calls himself the Jogging Dad“?

Jogging who“?

Yeah, I didn’t know him from a bar of soap either, until I literally ran into him while I was on my morning running today“.

Could've been like this!

Could’ve been like this!

Wait a sec, if you don’t know him, how did you run into him“?

No, hear me out. So I was running, minding my own business, turned a sharp corner and BAM! I almost ran straight into this middle-aged guy who was coming around the other way. I don’t know what he was on but, boy, he looked mighty chirpy for someone who was panting so hard.

Anyway, he apologised, I apologised and then I noticed he was wearing a running singlet with “joggingdad.com” in small letters printed across the back. When I got to work later that morning, I naturally checked out the website and found that he blogs about running, parenting and a bunch of other horseshit“. Continue reading

Artful codger

I do it all the time!

I do it all the time!

A couple of days ago, I was filling out an online entry form for a fun run to be held in September this year. Name, gender, date of birth, address, who should we call if you heart stops beating or you trip over and crack your head wide open.Frustratingly, I kept on getting stuck on one question, one that asks to what age group do I belong. I must have clicked on the 30-39 bracket 4 or 5 times. Each time, the god-damned website returned with the message: “Please check your answer before proceeding to the next question“.

Just before I was about to fire off an irate email to the race organisers, telling them in no uncertain terms to fix their bug-ridden online entry form, I decided to read the question one more time, and this time with care. And the words were:

Click on the age bracket you will belong to, at the time of this race (my emphasis).

Continue reading