All that fuss and...

Last week I made a big song and dance about starting the fitness thing on Monday.
Well, it started a little early with a Sunday morning swimming session at a lovely indoor pool.

Now, usually, I am more the mermaid-playing that up-and-down swimming type, but, I thought I would give it a go.
Luckily, my other half decided to take me under his wing and give me a little push in the right direction. (10 100m IM's direction... my poor, unfit arms).

So we donned our winter jackets, and packed up our back packs, and off we went.
Seems a little funny to be wearing big jackets and then going swimming! Thank goodness for the heating...

At first it was a little tricky, the pool was PACKED. This in a city where EVERYTHING is closed on a Sunday, except for Subways. But finally a lane was free. Now, to a normal two people, seeing that the is only one cordoned off lane in a pool might be a sign to stay away... but we just saw the opportunity to do two armed butterfly with out whacking a granny. It was all going well, and the incredibly serious looking lifeguards didn't say anything to us about moving out The Lane. Until, some other swimmers decided ours was The Lane To Be In. Not that I can blame them... come on... two pasty South Africans in speedo's... let's be honest! :)

I wish I could say that it was great to have someone swimming behind me to keep me going at a reasonable pace (other than my very speedy other half, who lapped me several times), but Slappy McSlappster, and the other dork in the lane were taking a leisurely Sunday Stroll through the water. Despite all my kicking-with-a-big-splash efforts. Up and down they plodded, while we attempted to do sprints. Hey, at least while diving underneath them to pass I got to play mermaids after all!

Monday was a definite rest day (we went to the Deutsches Museum after, and it is BIG, MINDBLOWING and a little too much to take in, in one afternoon). And Tuesday seemed to pass with nothing more than a few casttv.com shows. (A girls needs her shows ok.)

So, as Wednesday wound around, I re-set my alarm only once. Got up, and switched on the Yoga DVD.

Ok, I must be honest, I did only do a little bit. But I did a bunch of ironing afterwards with a not-so-good iron, and woke up this morning with that distantly familiar feeling of STIFFNESS!!!!!!!! HOORAY!

I did intend on running this morning, but did some more yoga instead. Let's not go crazy now Robyn. We want some sort of continuance here.

Now, if I can just get through the Sharks game on Saturday without too many beers, maybe I will make it back to the pool on Sunday. Monday is a holiday, after all...

Mamma Bear

Today, for this one day only, I must be a shmoosh, and write one for the mamma's.

You know that woman, she was there when you were growing up. In the beginning it was more of a life line. Towards your teens, a presence you tried REALLY hard to ignore, and at some stage, during that crucial turning point in the life of most girls, movement from mother to actual person with feelings and a past and after you move on
to start your life, a life of her own (shocking!).

If you have one, if you lost one, if you want to hang on to one for a few more seconds. If she's far, or near, or really annoying you at this particular moment in time...there is only ever one.

For all the times you knew better, but didn't say a thing. And for all the times you did.

For all the meals, desserts, and lunch boxes. The tips, and tricks, and recipes. And the tea.

The lessons in what's right and wrong, and the blurry line between the two.

The times we made you cry, but never saw your tears, the times that you were scared, but never showed your fears.

For when you taught us to appreciate the little things. To dream big, but not be scared to play in the dirt.

For the days you wanted to throttle us, when we really really pushed you.

For the days stayed up late with us, cos we were scared, or sick, or rushing to finish the homework we actually got last week, told you about this week, never started and is due tomorrow.

For the support to do what we thought we wanted, and the hug when we found out it wasn't going to happen.

For letting us find our passions, and nurturing them.

For loving us no matter what we do. For that feeling you give us when we have wrecked every other part of our life, and come crawling back to you. For the times we thought we were all grown up... I guess you're never too old to need your mom.

For the inexplainable bond. No, seriously, boys don't get it... And girls will never be able to explain it.

For all the other things that I have neither skills nor space to put into words.

Thank you, I love you, good night xx

Exercise

Most people that know me will agree that I am relatively lazy.

I like tea, which often comes with a little snack, and I am exceptionally partial to a Sunday afternoon on the couch with a good movie.

I don't like running, but from time to time I partake in the madness that is slamming your feet along concrete.

I don't like gym. Too many people, too close. And when you are on the machines that face other machines, where do you look? At the other people? And why would they put a restaurant in? For some, the muffins on display say "Don't worry, I'll make you healthy, you can go home now."

I'm not motivated enough for swimming, especially when it's cold like it is here.

I love a good ballet class. And yoga. And eating...
I enjoy healthy eating, but there is nothing quite like a good spag bol.

The problem is, that beer and pretzels, and most other food groups don't love me.

My idea of a good work out is cycling to the grocery store. Cardio.
And then cycling the 1.2 or so km home with a very heavy backpack and shopping bag. Weights.
And then unpacking the groceries. Stretching.
And then making a lovely lunch and gobbling it all up.
I think that balances out, don't you?

But what it all comes down to, for me, is strength.
I don't want to lose weight, but every time I see an old lady struggling along the isles with her shopping, struggling to lift a can of beans, I start to worry.

What if I continue in my lazy style, and never get involved in the protection of my joints. And then I get old and someone has to look after me. Vomit.

You always hear people say you should save your money, and write a will and prepare for the inevitable. But what about the preparation for a looooong age?

Therefore, starting Monday, the running shoes come out, and the yoga dvd goes in.
I will give this whole fitness 'thing' another shot. Again.

But don't worry, there will still be tea and cookies.

Glamourous

The day started out ok. Bit cold so I donned my boots and leg warmers(who ever said that trend died with the 80's clearly hasn't been to europe in winter). And I set off to dazzle the (german speaking?)Interviewer at the UK visa office.

However, due to technical difficulties, my other half had borrowed my bike, but I'm ok burning a few extra calories as mince along to the train station. At least I was, until I fell.

No, fell doesn't quite do it justice. What I did was slide, gracefully at first) along the street, until I could no longer balance in this strange crouched position and slamming my knees into the ground was the only option.

A few people looked away, perhaps trying to stop my cheeks from reddening further, perhaps trying to shield their laughter.

I sprung up, almost as though nothing had happened, and sped off to catch my train. It was only after the shock that I, Robyn, the graceful princess, had fallen! (Ok, not even I can keep a straight face at that comment) that I realised I had a small sting in my knees and two very big, wet areas on jean pant covered my knee caps.

I hoped dearly that the Interviewers wouldn't notice. And what with the hardware malfunction going on, I'm pretty sure they didn't. But I did get a few scornful looks from some grannies on the bus. I tried to return these with a I-Promise-I-Did-Shower look, but I think I need to practice that one in the mirror.

Interview over, groceries bought, I headed home for some well deserved tea.
All went well until I went to work.

It hailed.

Yip, hailed. Peppercorn sized icicles fell from the sky. Not only was I the only person utterly amazed at this, but I was also the only person with no gloves within reaching-whilst-riding-a-bike distance. There was mascara running down my face, and a serious case of Beanie Hair by the time I got to work... (And no I did not change my pants so the were still dirty marks on my knees.)

At least, when it was pouring down with rain when I was cycling home, I was going home. A warm shower and some coffee waiting... A couch with a warm skinned other half. All makes a bit of rain worthwhile.

Now, if I could only remember my moms rule for driving in the rain (during cycling, walking and any other movement between place a and place b)... Start Stopping Sooner.
Or at least try get a firmer footing in between steps...

With a little help from my friends

Sorry, been a bit distracted, what with turning 22 and all.
So, here's what you missed...

There was a secret birthday getaway to a surprise location... ROME!
What a dream!
After a very long, sleepless train ride, we arrived.
Quick nap later we were on our way to watch U2. What a band. Let me tell you, if I wasn't a fan before, I sure am now. And then they showed a clip of Desmond Tutu... Well, I've never loved a band more. (kings of leon and the killers aside, of course).
My hands were waving around in the air, and I was screaming "AFRICA" at the TOP of my lungs. What fun!

Rome is a rather dirty place. Really doesn't help the stereotype of leather jackets and greased back hair. In fact, that's EXACTLY what the Romans are like. And the girls start wearing eyeliner at about... birth. The train system is designed in a curious manner, with thousands of Tourists-With-Luggage unfriendly stairs, and it's all a bit gloomy. But then...
You step out of a station, and right there, in front of you is the Colosseum. No bus ride, or walk around a corner, just BAM, right there. It's surreal!

We walked around a lot on the Saturday, and stumbled upon everything we wanted to see. You walk along these little side roads and alleys, thinking you're lost, and then all of a sudden there are a lot of people, and SOMETHING. Trevi Fountain, Parthenon, Vatican City. I kept having to pinch myself to check if I wasn't dreaming while watching the History channel. (Has been known to happen.) But then, these are hardly things you can picture properly without seeing, touching. Pictures don't do them any justice. Mind you, I was in awe looking at a 2000 year old pebble, so anything would amaze me. But really, it was stunning.

After this Long Day of Walking, we found a cute little restaurant (a nice change from McDonalds and Tramazzini's -native food of the Romans) for a little dinner. It's actually very hard NOT to find a place to eat in Rome. The Italians have their priorities set straight. There are about 5 Trattoria's per 200m. A simple dinner, but packed with incredible taste, and we fell asleep peacefully.

Having seen all there was to see, Sunday was left for sitting on the Spanish steps, eating ice cream and soaking in the sun. For the whole day. BLISS!!!

Now, let me tell you what I REALLY loved about Rome. The wine. It might not be the best wine in the world, but it is sold on every street and street corner, in little bottles, and it's relatively cheap. It also seems to be socially acceptable to drink anywhere. Say, for example, when sitting on the bottom of a statue, or on the Spanish Steps, or just walking along the road. Again, the Italians have their priorities set straight!

Heading home, I was welcomed into the big 22 with PRESENTS!
First a South African parcel from some friends that stayed with us... AROMAT, Biltong, Nik Naks and Nando's sauce (among other things). Then 5 Roses, and more 5 roses, and more!!!

Let me just take this opportunity here to say THANK YOU to the senders! You can throw anything at me now... and I will survive. Because I have a cup of OUR tea to wash anything down!

No matter what happens now...

I'll get by, with a little help from my friends!

P.s: In honour of my birthmonth, I hope ya'll spoiled yourselves!!!!

PS

One VERY large, very lovely glass of wine was all it took.
The embarrassed facial redness has now been replaced by That Other Kind Of Redness.

Come find me now kiddies!!! :)

Please may no one walk past me right now...

The problem with kids is that they go from extreme to the next in
about 0.05 seconds. This makes my job extremely difficult as it can be
very hard to anticipate a hit, scream, fight, tantrum etc etc.

This is extremely tricky as they become more and more tired yet insist
on sleeping in the same bed. After a long day of shoddy manners and an
extremely trying lack of listening skills, and even a time out, I
thought, "Screw it, at this stage I'm just not sure I care."

So downstairs I went. And then back upstairs because of the extremely
loud talking. (Their father has just come out of hospital and needs
rest. It is also, by this stage, Past Bedtime). And then downstairs,
and then upstairs to dry up tears. And then an attempt at seperation,
and then they were immediately Best Friends Forever. And then
downstairs. And then upstairs. With no more options for them, in
response to which they BOTH fled down to their parents bed. And then
they continued to giggle. And a very very frustrated me walked down
the stairs a little bit... To where I thought I would be hidden and
had a few sob-like breathes, only for the mom to walk in and catch me
in my moment of weakness.

The response was something like "Don't get frustrated, that's what
they have wine for" to which, my face replied (in a manner over which
I had no control) by scrumpling and scrunching itself in preparation
for Inappropriate Tears. However, these were "Yes, I'd really like to
go home to my boyfriend and crack open a bottle of wine" tears, and
not the "I can't cope" tears they were, no doubt, interpreted as.

But it was too late. My face was red, my eyes damp and my voice
broken. Nothing to do but leave. And hope the train ride is slow
enough for me to catch my breath.

Definitely don't want to scare any other Late Comer Homer's off their
bicycles... (My crying face is that bad).

I only hope my face isn't still distorted by the time I get home. My
poor other half...

Now, where's that wine.

Oktoberfested.

While Oktoberfesting is always a good idea, getting completely
Oktoberfested is not always the best idea. You could do funny things.
Breaking a bicycle is one thing that pops to mind. (Especially since
the grit on my hands from my attempts to fix said bicycle, will not
come off).
Going to work Oktoberflustered the next day is another
not-so-great-idea. The chances are that this would be the day you
would have to arrive super early,and play barbies or some other game
that requires physical involvement, like hide and seek. It is also
possible that the children will find a couple of flutes and start
'making music'. (Really high pitched shrieking type noises, in
succession).

You might have to go sit at a table and try and explain why you would
not like any of the delicious food on offer ('You can have anything
you like, the food is really good here') because it feels a little bit
like some one swung a meiss (large heavy beer mug-holds 1 litre of
tastiness) at my head, and I would really like to go home and die now
please, if that would be ok.

You will probably come home to housework, which you just want to do quickly before you nap but due to minimal movement ability will take a while.

But when the sleep comes, it comes beautifully.

And then you wake up to a beautiful Sunday, and off we go again... just for one beer this time, I promise... :)