The Reward is the Journey

Today wasn't a good breathing day.  It's been a bad few weeks.  The home oxygen machine has been puffing on her behalf throughout the fluctuating weather.  The day it fluctuates will be cause for concern.  It's efficient but cold.  Standing to attention in the kitchen.  We cannot ignore its presence.  We appreciate its contribution.  But it's not the same. Energy levels have been very low and, unsurprisingly, so too has the general mood.  Not being able to breathe has many nasty side effects.  The days can often seem dark, even in bright sunlight.  It's a horrid illness, and it's horrible to watch a parent deteriorate in its merciless hands.   The fine weather this weekend counted for little as even the slightest movement was exhausting and draining.   Conversation seemed stunted, and I found myself lost for words in spite of a wonderfully invigorating morning spent with my best f...

Weekends are important.  In my case they tend to arrive just when needed - after five rewarding and productive days.  This one was no exception, in that respect anyway.  The contents unfolded beautifully organically and were, to my mind at least, hard to beat.  Swimming in a 50m Lido on Saturday morning was an exceptional way to start off - particularly without a wetsuit!  My blueseventy purchased last year in advance of my Thames mile has yet to be dusted off and reacquainted with the element in which it is most comfortable.  Why I chose to leave it at home on the rather fresh day a morning dip took my fancy, I will be pondering for some time to come.  But I did. And, as I made my way towards my lane of choice, I noticed a feint hint of amusement in the lifeguard's eye. Novice, he thought.  I think on finishing my fortieth length, albeit rather cold and (Charlotte now tells me) beginning to sound rather incoherent, he had re-evaluated his...

Most of us have rare cause to examine our gender.  We are born into bodies we take for granted, and only come to question when they no longer look as we'd like them to.  We might seek to change our bodies.  Investigating the next celebrity endorsed diet, for guaranteed weight loss or a smooth svelte outline.  We might take supplements, to enhance definition.  We may think about hopping on a sunbed, to achieve the perfect shade, or perhaps go for a spray tan when we're feeling deprived of Vitamin D.  We may enjoy modifying our bodies, with art, expressing ourselves and our views in ink or piercings, visible, or less visible to those we pass on the street.   But for those among us who do not classify themselves as cisgendered, i.e. those individuals whose self-perception of their gender does not match the sex they were assigned at birth, the body can be the landscape of self hatred, as a territory in which a very real battle can play out.   ...

Sunday 12 May 2013 will be a day I won't forget in a hurry.  It involved a ludicrously early start, to get to Blenheim before what would ordinarily be breakfast time.  At that point the sun shone.  But it wasn't to remain out for long.  The clouds conspired, and for those (few) of us tackling the 60 mile circuit, much of our afternoon was spent on two wheels in wet and windy conditions.   I knew why I was there, and the inspiring talk given to us by a fantastically enthusiastic member of the Events Team imprinted it exactly where it needed to be - forefront of my mind - I was doing it in honour of a very special woman.  A woman who is solely responsible for me getting on a bike, for me buying my first road bike, and for my new found enthusiasm for apparently not insubstantial distances.   Charlotte was there with me, in spirit, as I toured the very attractive Cotswold villages.  Her gentle, yet powerful words of encouragement that hav...

There is, I have come to realise, a vast difference between solitude and loneliness.  Solitude is something I cherish, something I relish, and something I look forward to.  I plan it at regular intervals.  This week was one of those planned breaks.  Escapes from the busy-ness of my life in London, with a deliberate change of environment to enable re-calibration and adjustment of pace and routine.  Solitude, differentiated from loneliness can be creative and uplifting.  Chosen, rather than imposed, it is in my experience often benign and fruitful - necessary, longed for space in which to reflect and take stock.  That is not to say it is always an easy option.  It is certainly not to everyone's taste but a little time apart can be a necessity - solitude is required if the inward eye is to be allowed to open fully - crowds and noise tend to make our senses shrink.  Wordsworth compared solitude to a blissful state.  For me, solitude is...

Such has been the pattern for me in recent days.  There are few things I enjoy doing more than driving on traffic free roads, riding on pleasantly winding roads without road markings and swimming in an uncrowded and beautifully maintained 50m pool.  Each of these activities have been enhanced by the fact that they have been engaged in for as long as I wish, without the need to clock-watch, or be interrupted by any form of modern communication.  I have been peacefully pacing myself, and getting in touch with my body and its fluctuating energy levels, maintaining maximum enthusiasm throughout.  I have swum over 12k in the last four days.  But more to the point, I have enjoyed each and every length.  I have swum alongside some incredible fish-like swimmers.  True aquathletes.  I adore the pool at the Bath University Sports Training Village, and have written about its depth and fast water previously.  Something happens when I train, withou...

Destination Thursday:  Bath Abbey (and the Thermae Baths) Destination Friday:  Wells Cathedral These past few days have been quite simply heavenly.  I could not have been more fortunate, picking a week to take my break during which I have been blessed with a streak of weather better than I can remember for quite some time.  It has enabled me to do exactly what I set out to do – get out on my bike, and clock up some miles.  Riding alone on unfamiliar winding country roads, traversing this green and pleasant land, picking destinations and midpoints according to the attractiveness of the signposted place name has been terrific food for mind, body and soul. It has reminded me a little of some of my earliest cycling memories.  Not learning to ride my first bike, on Clapham Common, but riding around Rutland, from my grandmother’s house on my prize possession, a beautiful metallic grey Raleigh that was bought for me one Christmas (I suspect it...

This poem that was the prompt for my morning reflection really struck a chord with my intention this week.  It was apparently written by a young cancer patient being treated in a hospital in NYC who had been told that her condition was terminal, and that she had only months to live.  "Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round, or listened to rain slapping the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight, or gazed at the sun fading into the night? You better slow down, don't dance so fast, time is short, the music won't last. Do you run through each day on the fly, when you ask "How are you?", do you hear the reply? When the day is done, do you lie in your bed, with the next hundred chores running through your head? You better slow down, don't dance so fast, time is short, the music won't last. Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow, and in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch, let a friendship die...