Jem Publishing

If I had a better bike would I be a better cyclist?

Would I suddenly have more skills, more strength, more talent (or some talent!)? Would I suddenly be more comfortable conquering the hills on the back roads of Thirlstane and Sassafras? Would my arse hurt less? Would my legs hurt less? Would I have less back and hand pain? Would I suddenly have more bravery when I’m ripping down hill at high speeds?

Nup. Nup. Nup. Nup. Nup. Nup. Nup. Aaaaaaand …  Nup.

What would it give me?

More respect as an athlete (and I use the term “athlete” very, very loosely)? More confidence? More motivation.

Maybe. Probably. Maybe. No guarantees.

But it definitely won’t make me a better cyclist. Only I can do that. And training is training, regardless of the bike I am dragging around underneath me. A $5,000 bike is not going to make me significantly faster or better – because there is no substitute for miles on the road.

Hey, I’d love a nice shiny road bike with the Look clipless pedals, carbon forks, oh-so snooth Shimano 105 gearing, women’s specific seat and aero bars. But I don’t need it. My trusty old mountain bike – with the clunky gear changes, rusty chain and cogs and the big chainring that doesn’t work - will do the job for now. I’m not forgetting the fact that I am a novice, novice athlete and at this stage in my triathlon career I just can’t justify the expense. I might do this season, hate it and never do another tri again.

But I really can’t see that happening. I suspect I’ll get addicted.

But if I have a good season this year (in the novice, novice section) and show that I am serious about triathlon, then surely I have a great argument to take to my financial planner, um husband when I do need a new bike.

And I will need a new bike … but I will farewell my trusty, rusty old mountain bike with a great deal of respect. It owes me nothing and has put up with a lot. This is a bike I won in a raffle when I was in grade 12 … with a ticket I didn’t buy (no I didn’t cheat … we ran the raffle and as a thankyou we got a free ticket each). Oh, and that ticket was No. 1. 

That was more than 12 years ago. At the end of this summer, I think it will have deserved a rest!!

When I have a spare $3000, I am so buying this baby! I wonder if they make it in black …

… Not to be confused with my AC/DC life which really only applies when I have had too much to drink …

No need to elaborate.

two lives

Twice this afternoon, in the space of about half an hour, I removed one of the dog’s bones from the sofa. Nice. In my ‘BC’ days (that’s Before Child) finding a dog bone inside the house would have kinda grossed me out. Also, I would have wondered how it got there … Hubby wouldn’t have put it there and Toby the Wonderdog is not in the habit of bringing them inside.

Now, it’s barely a surprise. I am well aware of how it got there, I just shrug and chuck it back outside. But it got me thinking about how much, not only my life, but my attitudes, expectations and habits have change since Small Child arrived on the scene.

The thought hounded me as I vaccuumed the floor … with said Child in tow. A momentary aside: Child is obsessed with anything that goes around – washing machine, clothes dryer, fans – and of course we have a cyclonlic vaccuum cleaner. Hence, I have a shadow whenever I vaccuum.

Where was I? Oh right, vaccuuming the floor and thinking about the things that would have bothered me before this small person with a loud voice and penchant for repeating phrases came to live with us.

While I won’t say I was obsessive about the state of the house (probably far from it), I did have my routine and that suited me just fine. Before Small Child came along, spills on the carpet would piss me off; the dog was inside and awful lot for an “outside” dog; the house was always “reasonably” neat and tidy; I had always showered by bedtime.

Now, spills are a part of everyday life, and I’ll get to them when I fricken get there, okay? Not long ago, Hubby up-ended a big bowl of spaghetti bolognaise all over the carpet … all we could to was look at each other and laugh our heads off.

And then clean it up, obviously. We’re not pigs, you know.

Poor old Toby the Wonderdog (is there anything you can’t do? Running, jumping, making us laugh. Toby we love you!) doesn’t spend nearly as much time inside the house as he used to. The poor little hound gets terrorised. He’s chased around and has things thrown at him. It’s just easier to keep him outside, and he’d rather that too. It’s too loud inside!!

Nowadays, when I clean the house, I’m really happy when it’s still that way 20 minutes later. When that happens, I’m amazed!! I get the last job done, think to myself: “Yep, time for a coffee”. Turn around twice and it looks like Chechnya all over again. “Think I might make that an Irish Coffee.”

Some of the biggest changes can be seen in my expectations. BC, I’d be going on a major holiday twice a year. Now, I’d be thrilled if I could get a hour to go soak in the bath.

But don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. In fact, I wouldn’t change anything for the world. I like my life AC much better than BC. There’s still stress, but it’s not lose-your-job type of stress – coz Child’s hardly going to sack me, is he?

Is he?

There’s less freedom (financially and socially), but there’s also more freedom in an emotional and psychological sense. It is now perfectly okay for me to jump around and dance around like a dag to The Wiggles.  Childless, it would be frowned upon, now it’s a given.

And that in itself is worth a lifetime of loud, crazy days, food spills and banana rubbed into the carpet. Nice.

Life ain’t nothin’ but a funny kinda riddle …

Ever felt totally out of place?? Waaaayyy out of your depth, your comfort zone??

I do. Most days in fact. That is not a joke.

So the other day this country chick from Hicksville (alright, a slight exaggeration, regional Tasmania is hardly Hicksville … whatever) flew to the thriving, bustling, busy metropolis that is Melbourne.

I stayed for two days. It was a big two days.

This was no junket, I was there for a reason – to see and spend some time with the one and only Craig Anthony Harper (top Australian motivational speaker, author, health and fitness expert, life-renovation guru, asker of rather confronting questions and all-round good guy). We are working on his latest book – it’s all very exciting.

Over the two days I ran the gamut of emotions: nervousness, fear, amazement, surprise, embarrassment (that was a lot), envy, shock, optimism, apprehension, despair and irritation.

To name but a few.

But mostly, I felt like a total fish out of water. I didn’t belong there. I was awkward and clumsy, very uncool and totally self-conscious.

I realise all these emotions were totally of my own making. Except for a couple of key moments (for my own good), no-one tried to make me feel uncomfortable … I just was. 

But I learnt a lot. About myself, about others, about Craig and his team. Some things I already knew, but they were really hammered home over the two days. Here’s a snapshot.

1. I have some graphic design ability – there seemed to be a resounding positive response to my designs.

2. I have compliment-acceptance issues. There were some positive comments which I felt were said with great honesty and sincerity and I was surprised to find it confusing. In my head, I found myself justifying or qualifying (watering down) those comments.

3. Good people will bring you up, not tear you down. And postivity is contageous.

4. It’s much easier to cop criticism if it’s said in a respectful, helpful, focused way (and it was). Just put on your big-girl pants and suck it up.

5. My short-hair may be a contributer to my not feeling very feminine. Kind of a weird conversation, that one! Suffice to say: tough shit, I’m not growing it.

6. I am socially disabled! Nuf said.

7. I’m a big scaredy-pants when it comes to taking risks.

8. Craig surrounds himself with positive, vibrant, happy, interested, interesting, fun people.

9. I don’t really know what I want in my life.

10.  I am slightly distressed at the sight of Craig weight-training. It’s kind of scary. And funny. But scary.

11.  My body is probably not in as bad shape as I think.

12.  Don’t tell Melbourneans how good the property prices are in Tassie, they’ll want to buy up.

In all honesty, I had a great couple of days. It was confronting and uncomfortable, but it was also pleasantly surprising and enjoyable. Johnny and the rest of the team were very welcoming and if I wasn’t so busy feeling so incredibly nervous, I would have felt right at home.

Bugger! I have some things to work on (apart from the book) …