Author Archives: The Jogging Dad

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About The Jogging Dad

I'm a father, I'm a jogger, I'm a part-time blogger. I love my kids but I must run. www.joggingdad.com.

Music to my ears

14 Replies
Can't run without it.

Can’t run without it.

I have been sent a number of emails since this Blog began in October last year, asking me one question. Actually, I lie. I say “a number of emails” only to give the impression that I have a big following in the blogsphere. In fact, I have had just three emails in all that time asking me to explain or elaborate one aspect of my life. The question is actually quite mundane and merely reflects the curiosity that these three much-valued readers (a rather material percentage of my readership) has about this strange person called The Jogging Dad.

However, before I address this question (which will take just a couple of sentences), I just want to ramble a bit on another mundane aspect of my life – something that I sporadically talk about but in no way does justice to how much of an integral and personal part of my running life it is, namely, music. Continue reading →

When running on empty …

6 Replies

I went for another long run early this afternoon, in preparation for my marathon next month. It was a 30-degree celsius day but felt like at least 35, as the cloudless sky gave no respite from the fierce sun.

At around the 23km mark, I really began to suffer from the heat. It didn’t help that my mind

Run, Jogging Dad, run
Run, Jogging Dad, run

started to be unkind, niggling me with remarks such as: “You’re tired already? After only 20-odd km’s? Do you realise that you’re barely half-way through the distance that you will be running next month“?

So I decided to give this mind of mine something to think about, something to dwell on instead of needling me on the preposterousness of running in this heat. I challenged it to come up with the most inspiring books and films on running that it has come across. Continue reading →

Why we do the things we do

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Running, parenting - all for love

Running, parenting – all for love

I have a marathon next month in Canberra, the capital city of Australia with a population of about one-tenth of Sydney – perfect for holding a 42.2km race without the need to disturb any traffic or anyone.

In preparation for this event (my second attempt at the distance), I decided to go for a long 24km run this afternoon. Not nearly enough but neither is the availability of time, what with my weekend bathing duties with the kids and the witching hour that is dinner.

At the risk of sounding self-congratulatory, it is amazing how far I have come though. If someone had told me in 2006 when I picked up running again, that I would reach a stage where 24km of non-stop pounding of the pavement and the heart will become as nonchalant a task as cleaning the car, I would have laughed at his face. I still remember the enormous struggle I had just to run 4km in those early days, and suffering the next morning as if I had done 40.

Continue reading →

I can see clearly now the rain has come

9 Replies
Great fun!

Great fun!

Last Saturday, Sydney was drenched in torrential rain which frequently veered sidways due to hurricane-strength horizontal winds. Trees were falling and roofs were lifting, while the occasional sound of fire engines rushing off to emergency calls competed with periodic roars of thunder.

This was an opportunity too good to pass up, given my fetish with running in the rain.

So, as soon as C went to his afternoon nap and L settled in front of the TV, on went my trusty pair of Brooks joggers and out went my ass. Continue reading →

Rain Man in the house

7 Replies
Rain Man meets Mr Men

Rain Man meets Mr Men

A few days ago, I was shaving in front of the bathroom mirror while my two boys were in the background, mucking about. They like to muck about in the bathroom whenever my wife or I are in there, turning what used to be our only private refuge into a public arena.

Anyhow, this is the conversation I overheard:

My 6 year-old boy, L: Who’s number 7?

My 4 year-old boy, C: Mr Snow.

L: What about number 31?

C: Mr Tall.

L: Okay, if you think you’re so smart, who’s number 10?

C: Mr Silly.

L: No, YOU’RE Mr Silly! Haha!

C: NO YOU ARE SILLY!

C then proceeded to tackle his older brother and both of them fell to the ground, wrestling. Continue reading →