Tag Archives: writing

One day, on a treadmill

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I am running on the treadmill in the gym. While pacing at 12km per hour, I stare at the music videos on the array of monitors in front of me. They feature mostly half-naked female “artists” performing suggestive gyrations, while doing very little of actual singing. I wonder at what point did the music industry turn into a semi-pornographic peep show for the masses.

No peeking at your neighbours!

No peeking at your neighbours!

A fit-looking guy without an ounce of fat gets on the treadmill to my right. He starts running. I sneak a peek at his display panel and see that he’s running at a brisk 13km per hour pace. The competitive instinct kicks in and I amp up my speed to match his.

5 minutes pass and I notice that his strides are faster than mine. Another peek at his display panel reveals that he is now travelling at 14km per hour. Not to be outdone, I also increase my speed to 14km per hour. “Come on! Let’s get it on, buddy” I secretly throw down the gauntlet. Continue reading →

Reminiscences of a blog operator

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Welcome back to the Ashley Judd Show. Our next guest is someone who refers to himself as the Jogging Dad. As the name suggests, he is a dad and a jogger who also happens to maintain a blog in cyberspace.

Good to have you on the show, Jogging Dad.

Ok, Lance and Oprah, get off the stage! Ashley and the Jogging Dad are ready for the interview!

Ok, Lance and Oprah, get off the stage! Ashley and the Jogging Dad are ready for the interview!

The pleasure is all mine, Ashley. And, may I say, you look as beautiful as ever.

Why, thank you. Let me start by asking, how many followers do you have for your blog?

Not that many. In fact, even though I have been blogging since October last year, my follower-count is embarrasingly low, particularly when compared to some great bloggers out there who have, like, thousands of disciples.

Why is that? Are your stories just not that interesting?

Well, I guess that’s a blunt way of putting it. I mean, fatherhood and running are not exactly the most riveting of subject matters in the best of times, let alone told by someone who is not very good at either of them. Continue reading →

Excuse my fartlek

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"You ready for some fartlek"?

“You ready for some fartlek”?

“I want to run faster. What can do I do run faster?” I pestered a friend some years ago. This was just after I began running long distances. I thought the guy would be a good authority to seek advice from, given he subscribed to running magazines and was always crapping on about various techniques.

“You should do fartlek“.

“FART WHAT“??!!

“Fartlek. It’s where you run fast, run slow, run fast, run slow“.

“Why do I even bother asking you anything! You know, I ask you for advice on how to run faster and all I get is ‘run fast, run slow’. Even worse, you call it … what did you call it again? Fartlek! What is that? Shit, that sounds like something you do when you inhale vindaloo the night before a run and then have to exhale it out the other end during the run“! Continue reading →

Parenting 101 … fail!

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Every night between 10.30 and 10.50, I perform a task. It involves tiptoeing into my six

No, no, no Mr Joggin Dad, you're doing it all wrong, wrong, wrong!

No, no, no Mr Joggin Dad, you’re doing it all wrong, wrong, wrong!

year-old son’s room, carefully carrying my sleeping first-born in an upright position to the bathroom, with his head resting on my shoulder. Once there, I pull down his pyjama pants and sit him on the toilet so that he can do his night-time relief – something he rarely fails to do even though he is usually still in dreamland. I then carry Prince #1 back to his room, tuck him into bed snuggly, and repeat the whole exercise with Prince #2, my precious four year-old second son.

“You know, you shouldn’t do that! You should allow your children to learn to visit the toilet at night by themselves“. Continue reading →

The passing of a friend

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A friend of mine passed away yesterday.

He was a friend who I have never met in person, but has been a big part of my subconscious since 1993. That was the year I first felt his menacing presence and thought to myself “Now, there’s a person I wouldn’t wanna fuck with“.

He was briefly in and out of my life after that, until 2001. That was the year I was living in London and got reacquainted with him. And what a reacquaintance it was! The way he spoke, the complexity of his personality, the way he can assume the role of a gentle giant on the one hand, then erupt into a fireball of rage and violence on the other, often within a split second. Continue reading →