During my relatively short-lived stint as a running amateur, there have been a few occasions where I found myself severely doubting my identity as "a runner". It took a very long time before I felt that I was allowed to include that title into the vocab I make use of when trying to define who I am. Granted I still suffer the psychological consequences of a traumatic childhood as far as sports are concerned, so I might have dug a little deeper into the psychological abyss of self-discovery than the average Joe, but I do still think the question warrants some attention...* At which point can you truly call yourself a runner? After your first run around the block? When you've competed in a race? If you run at least 1/2/3/4 times a week? Once you've spent more than R500 on a pair of running shoes or some fancy running gadget? After some contemplation on the matter, I've come up with the following as my personal justifications...   #1 - Setting and working at a goal Commitment, baby, that's what it all comes down to. Whether the conscious decision to go running once a week, to enter a 10km, to improve the time it takes to run around that block. To set a running-related goal and consistently work at it with at least a smidgen of true dedication, is - in my humble opinion - good enough reason to pat yourself on the back.   [caption id="attachment_253" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="# 1: Setting Goals **"][/caption]   #2 - Accepting the consequential hazards The inclusion of criteria #1 into my runner-identity arsenal only came after a couple of years. But the very first time I suspected that I might be justified in bestowing the coveted title of runner upon my own little head, was the day I lost a toenail. As the direct result of a half-marathon, my left big-toenail had turned a beautiful hue of blueish-purple. I was told by my experienced friends that - due to the pressure of toe against shoe (especially whilst running downhill) -  this is not in itself an uncommon running hazard. And so I'd grown quite used to it my little blue friend until one fine sunny day 2 months later, whilst on holiday in Zanzibar, I accidentally hit my toe against a rock underwater and emerged from the Atlantic sans any left big-toenail at all. And apart from the pain, of all the things that could have run through my mind at that moment, I had thought: I think this makes me a real hard-core runner now. It's ironic that the half-marathon itself wasn't reason enough for me to think that, but so it was. That was the first of many a foot and toe ailment. I now understand that these are the results of having a longer left than right foot and longer second toes than big toes. But the moral of the story is that because of running, my toes look like a train smash on a semi-permanent basis! Yes, it's a curse I have to live with. Sigh. Even though I still hide my stompers when I see the sleek, well-manicured toesies of my girl friends, I dare say that I have made peace with them. That being said, if I'm never going to have beautiful toes because of my preference of exercise, I sure as hell will call myself a real runner! [caption id="attachment_249" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="# 2: Making peace...sort of"][/caption]   (I briefly considered revealing the toes but I don't think we're at that stage in our relationship yet...)   #3 - Eating weird health foods This is a recent one. Apparently, you can die earlier if you don't eat breakfast. So I thought I'd better make a plan since I kinda like living. Most days. Which lead me to Oats because a) it's o-so-easy to prepare, apparently, b) it's low in everything that's bad for you. But most importantly... c) it was recommended by a fellow runner as a great source of slow-release energy. I got this one as a freebie in a goody bag yesterday:   [caption id="attachment_250" align="alignnone" width="218" caption="# 3: Eating weird health foods"][/caption]   Cup o' Oats? Sounds a bit gross. But I'll probably eat it anyway cause I'm a serious health-conscious runner yoh!   #4 - The need to know more I picked up this baby for a bit of light reading. And not even with the aim of impressing you, dear fan base! (Though I know you are anyway.)   [caption id="attachment_251" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="# 4: Backing it up with theory"][/caption]   12th grade biology ain't cutting it anymore. I actually want to know what's happening on the inside of the ol' running bod. No...seriously. I was referred to Tim Noakes' Lore of running, also known as "The Bible of running". Hey, you got me at Lore... (Sounds very medieval-like) *** Expect to see a  few big words on the blog soon...   #5 - Been there, done that... As my friend used to say whilst we were toiling away together in agony on our Masters theses: "JFDI! - Just effing do it!" **** The talking, the Oats, the books, the gadgets, the fancy shoes, the blog - it all means squat if you don't pick up the arse and move the feet.   [caption id="attachment_252" align="alignnone" width="218" caption="# 5: ...got the t-shirt!"][/caption]   So if today's run and any of the above reasons is anything to go by, I'm gonna lay off the identity crisis for the briefest of moments to marvel in a healthy yet slightly elitist runner's pride... Well done you runner you! :)   --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- * My introspection has been justified by a short review in Women's Health magazine (March 2011) of a research study in the International Journal of Behavioural Nutrition and Physical Activity which found that "if you identify yourself as a runner, you'll be more inclined to lace up your trainers than someone who sees herself as a couch potato".  According to Dr Lindsay Duncan "people [are] more likely to engage in longer bouts of exercise if they saw physical activity as a core part of their identity". ** Personal best and latest goal achieved in this morning's Safari half-marathon in Wellington. 1:56:10 - Chuffed, mates, I am chuffed :)   *** More proof that I need to expand my vocabulalary   **** Except she actually used that other word. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drama. The intrigue. (The impending sweat and tears.) Dun dun dun! ----------------------------------------

As a rule I try to keep it light here in my personal little corner of the blogosphere. There’s enough back-breaking heaviness to handle out there in the real world. No need to project it into cyberspace. But…I’ve been thinking as of late. (Yes, a dangerous endeavour.) This thinking is of a rather serious nature: I’ve been thinking about thinking. Thinking about talking. Thinking about doing. Thinking about talking about thinking about doing. And thinking about reality: Lots of thinking. Lots of talking. Less doing. If I can scoot in behind the tiny velvet curtains of the confessional booth for a moment. In certain respects, when it comes to “all talk, and no action”, I am guiltier than certain political parties (*cough*…Aensee…*cough*). In my defense…hmmm…”defense” – also reminiscent of political talk (and I wasn’t even planning on expanding that metaphor) – I’m a bit of an “ideas” person. A thinker, one could say. On any average day, I experience enough light bulb moments that, were their creative energy transferable into actual electrical units, I’d become a serious rival for the incompetently-managed-excuse for a service provider that is Eskom. However, as great as some of those humdinger-ideas are, I find it excruciatingly difficult to actually put them into action. Thinking is fun! Thinking is dreaming. Dreaming is easy. Talking fuels the fun thinking, in turn leading to better greater bigger floating ideas and dreams. But doing requires work. And work = problems = blegh! Reality bites. That being said, even I realize that life is more than bright-eyed dreaming in a weightless space. Life is not blogging about wanting to run a marathon. Life is lacing up the trainers at 7am on cold Saturday mornings in July when you’d much rather stay in bed. Life is going for a run after a long day at work when you really would rather just go home. Life is pushing uphill with burning lungs and aching joints. Life is getting over feelings of incompetence by trying your best even when you know your best will never be as fast or as strong as him or her. Life is fighting your fear of the distance, your fear of pain, your fear of failure. Life – more than anything else – is about doing. Running aside, in general, life is about hard work and accountability. And not just accountability for striving to turn our own dreams into reality, but also for the dreams of others. Because though most inidividuals are born with the ability to think and talk without limits, doing is very much a product of, and limited by, our specific context. The world is filled with a staggering number of individuals with limitless talent and potential that are likely to go to waste due to lack of opportunities to grow that talent and apply that potential. It is one of the many unfair and saddest realities of life. And because of its unfairness, those of us who have been dealt a good hand in terms of opportunity, owe it not only to ourselves but specifically to the “empty-handed” to make the most of what we have and to help as many people as possible along the way. But this is just me thinking. Me doing is Kenyan hills – tomorrow afternoon. Thanks to those who listen to me talking the talk. And to those who are sharing the love by walking the walk (in whichever way you do.) And most of all, to those who do both.