I’ve always done things at my own pace – but I always get where I want to be in the end.

In 2010 -

• I moved in with my Mister
• I got a promotion – I couldn’t have imagined that I would be in such a fantastic position at 25
• I became an Aunt – I never comprehended just how much love I would have for my niece
• I finished a triathlon
• I watched my beloved Roosters lose the NRL Grand Final
• I paid more than a few visits to hospital to see people I love
• I received heart-wrenching news more times than I’d have liked, but I survived
• I had some truly wonderful friends, and a family that loves me

I’m looking forward to 2011. I know it will bring me even closer to where I want to be.

Are you okay?

For more information on how you can get involved, visit R U OK? Day.

Who will you ask?

Post-race. Red-faced, but in good spirits.

The Triathlon – or, why you don’t say things you don’t mean. They get you into trouble. Or triathlons.

At the beginning of August, I made an off-the-cuff remark to a co-worker after seeing a flyer for an ‘All Girls Triathlon’.

“We should enter!” I quipped.

“Totally,” she replied, “Do you want to train together?”

Later that day my co-worker returned from a meeting, informing me that she’d conferred with our fellow worker, and we really were going to sign up for the Triathlon. I wanted to be sick. Instead I giggled nervously.

And so the training began for the Tri, three weeks out. I did an RPM class. We swam a few laps at the local pool in our lunchbreaks. I ran less than when I hadn’t been training for a Triathlon.

I bought a bicycle.

We did a practice swim in The Lake the day before the event. That is, we dipped our toes in the murky water, squealed when fish appeared, and doggy-paddled out about 200m and back before calling it a day and gossiping on the shore.

Tri-Day arrived. At 5.00 am on the Sunday, I ignored my alarm and went back to sleep. Nick promptly kicked me out of bed.

We arrived at The Lake, which was buzzing with energy. A man wrote my race number on the outside of my biceps arms. I felt like an athlete! We “racked” our bikes, and laid out our gear. A man gave us a bit of a “pep talk” and blathered on about “keeping left” and not “drafting” and “overtaking to your right”. By this time we had stripped down to our togs, and I was feeling too self-conscious to pay much attention.

“To the starting line!” he called.

I wanted to throw up.

We were split into three groups (by surname) for a staggered start, and thankfully I was in the last group. We were instructed to swim out along the start line – I swam as far away from everybody as I could, in the hope I would avoid being kicked in the head. “Phew,” I reflected, “I’m exhausted now.”

A man counted down, and yelled at us to go. “Oh right,” I thought, “Go, go, go!”

I smashed out the swim leg, before realising I was only half-way there. Put my head down and continued swimming. Got kicked in the side by an over-enthusiastic (and off-course) swimmer. Swallowed salt water. Felt ill swimming through bizarre “hot pockets” in the water (ew). Felt relieved when I hit a “cool spot”. Realised I could now stand up. Stumbled out of the water. Was breathing more heavily than I’d anticipated. Ran to the ‘Transition Zone’ to put on runners and grab my bike.

The humidity was awful and I felt like I was breathing in water (admittedly, a few minutes prior I probably had been). Inhaled Ventolin. Tripped into shoes. Grabbed my shiny new bike (that I’m in love with) and took off.

For most of the ride I cursed that I hadn’t put the water bottle holder on my bike – I was so incredibly thirsty from all the salt water that I’d swallowed during the swim, and I was having trouble breathing because of my asthma (and aforementioned humidity). Vaguely remember thinking towards the end of the ride that I was spent and that I couldn’t go on. By the end of the ride the burning in my legs completely outweighed the burning in my lungs and all was okay.

Leapt off my bike in the ‘Transition Zone’ without falling off or falling over. Legs felt like jelly. Got through this transition quite quickly (after a few more gulps of Ventolin), despite not being able to feel my legs.

The run was hard. I couldn’t feel my legs, and I felt like I was going to vomit my lungs. There was a very minor incline that one could barely see, but really feel. I was still thirsty from the salt water swim, and couldn’t wait to make it to the drink station. At the half-way mark of the run, you overlooked a cliff. By this stage, I wanted to throw myself over said cliff and put an end to the pain.

The run back was “downhill”. Slightly. It made such a difference. Suddenly I felt faster. I was able to talk “over” the negative thoughts that were going through my head. I was on the Home Straight.

I cannot really explain the feeling of seeing the Finish, and then crossing The Line. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to go out dancing. I wanted to shout from the cliff-tops that I HAD FINISHED A TRIATHLON. Even if it was only a Beginners Tri. But most of all, I just wanted my ”Finishing Medal”. And a shower.

Way back in Primary School when I was just a wee bonnie lass, on a real scorcher of a day the library would allow students into the air-conditioned AV Room, where we would sit in the dark watching episodes from the popular-at-the-time-ABC-show, Round the Twist. It was one of my favourite programs, and even now I’m tempted to purchase the DVDs. But only the first two series – before Paul Jennings left.

One particular episode that really stuck with me, possibly because I watched it over and over between lunchtimes in the library and afternoons with ABC, was “Grandad’s Gifts“; even now, the sight of lemons takes me back. There was such beauty in this episode, and for a program that was largely a comedy, it invoked a real sadness in me. I don’t know if it was the poetic justice of it all, or if it was Linda’s “The fox’s eyes.. he just came back to life.. and now he’ll never see… I’m so sorry, Fox”, but by the time the episode finished and the lights came back on, you could be sure that I’d be wiping tears from my red, swollen eyes.

Grandad’s Gifts – Round the Twist

We have a lemon tree. I don’t have a fox (yes, fox, not faux) fur though. But thanks to Stephanie Alexander’s The Cook’s Companion, I do have an awesome recipe for a Gin Fizz -

Shake 45mL gin with 1 Tbsp pure icing sugar, several mint leaves and the juice of 1 lemon over several ice cubes in a shaker. Strain into a long glass and fill with soda water.

You can substitute sugar syrup for the icing sugar, but really, that’s just additional work (and more washing up!).

Mmm. A Gin Fizz would go well with Little Miss Moi’s Preserved Lemon Chicken with Parsley, Chicken and Honey, no?

While I’d banked on a new found freedom that one only really has when they can walk around in their undies in their own pad, I didn’t realise I’d discover a whole new wardrobe.

My previous lack of storage space paired with my penchant for online shopping saw packages swiftly relegated to bottom drawers or shoved on to my portable clothing rack, buckling at the weight of pretty frocks. They would escape the wrath of my six-monthly-Salvo-donations with promise to wear them before the next clean out, after which I’d thrust them back in to the depths of Narnia. And so the cycle would continue.

It wasn’t until I opened the suitcases and boxes of my apparel on arrival (by “on arrival”, I mean “a day week later”) in my new home that I realised the treasures that had been buried away. There was the faint odour of mothballs, but they had escaped the Attack of the Wet Season Mould; nothing that a good dry-clean couldn’t fix.

I sauntered into work in one of my new-found frocks. “Oooh, new dress?!” Little Miss Moi questioned. “Well… You’d never believe it. In the move I found all these new outfits that I’d forgotten I had!” I exclaimed. LMM raised an eyebrow. “Really,” I continued, “This dress isn’t new. I swear. I found it in my spring-cleaning.”

A few days later I pulled out another dress that had long been forgotten. “Oh, that’s a lovely dress,” a lady at work remarked. “Yes. You know. Laundry-day,” I replied. As if that somehow explained my “new” outfit. Conversation is always a little awkward in the bathroom.

Now, pop over to Little Miss Moi’s pad for her post on cleaning.

25. Smile at 100 strangers

1. Lady with kids on escalator
2. Visiting lady at work
3. New Mail Lady
4. Man at elevator
5. Waitress at dinner
6. Lady with sweet potatoes in vegetable section
7. Sales Assistant at Dymocks
8. Lady with baby at Coffee Club
9. Lady at Check-In, Sydney to NYC
10. Concierge at Trump Towers
11. Sales Assistant at Marc Jacobs counter
12. Man “driving” horse and carriage in Central Park
13. Concierge at the NYC Palace
14. Bellboy at the Palace
15. Waiter at Gilt
16. Sales Assistant at Magnolia Bakery
17. Sales Assistant on shoe floor at Saks
18. Pole Dancer’s friend in our trapeze class
19. Trapeze Instructor
20. Lady walking her Westie in the Village
21. Man at Check-In, NYC – Sydney (who upgraded us for free!)
22. Flight Attendant who brought me tea, NYC – Sydney
23. Guy with pram
24. Elderly man with umbrella
25. Sales Assistant at QBD
26. Lady with umbrella
27. Lady in elevator with briefcase
28. Lady with coffee
29. Older man in elevator
30. Man with baby
31. Lady at Clinque Counter, DJs, Melbourne
32. Sales Assistant at Spotlight
33. Sales Assistant at Bodyshop
34. Lady with kids at Smiggle
35. Guy at Lenards
36. Man at Absolutely bookstore
37. Man with puppy at Vet
38. Lady with dog who tried to eat my dog
39. Lady with Cairn Terrier
40. Sales Assistant at Big W
41. Man at Check-In, Darwin – Sydney
42. Lady checking us in at the Westin
43. Couple with Westie on Oxford Street
44. {Couple with Westie on Oxford Street}
45. Waiter at Cafe Escobar
46. Sales Assistant at Kookai
47. Sales Assistant at Zimmerman
48. Waiter at bills, Darlinghurst
49. Japanese tourists in Martin Place who needed help reading their map
50. {Japanese tourists in Martin Place who needed help reading their map}
51. Bus Driver #326
52. Bus Driver #398
53. Waitress at the Bogey Hole, Bronte
54. “Gary” – Sydney FC Game
55. “Charlie” – Sydney FC Game
56. “Zane” – Sydney FC Game
57. Lady on #380 who offered seat {Bless}
58. Lady and daughter asking directions
59. Lady holding daughter’s hand telling husband they’d go up a shop as they didn’t want to look in EB Games {I hear you}
60. Lady at Mimco
61. Lady breastfeeding her baby
62. Lady with baby getting out of elevator
63. Man at Omelette Station at the Westin
64. Man at Juice Station at the Westin
65. Lady carrying baby in Mosaic, Westin
66. Cab driver, Sydney
67. Lady at Check-In, Sydney to Darwin
68. Guy at Toyota
69. New Security Guard
70. Older lady with puppy
71. New Vet
72. Guy who moved trolley
73. Creepy looking guy
74. Man at Parap Fine Foods
75. Sales Assistant at PFF
76. Lady at Deli
77. Lady with funky necklace in coffee shop
78. Music Therapy Man
79. Music Therapy Man with guitar
80. Music Therapy Man with ukulele
81. Old couple walking their dog
82. {Old couple walking their dog}
83. Waitress at Char
84. Security man at JB Hi-Fi
85. Pretty lady with sunglasses
86. Man who let me go first at newsagency
87. Lady at Medicare
88. Lady at Post Office
89. Man at Newsagency
90. Guy with orange pram
91. Lady entering Petbarn
92. Sales Assistant at Petbarn
93. Young family walking
94. Girl eating apple
95. Lady at vet with pretty dog
96. New lady on floor
97. Kids gushing over Molly
98. Sales Assistant at Cue
99. New Barista at coffee shop
100. Man who delivered birthday flowers and bubbly the day before my birthday

The hardest thing about this 25 by 25 item was remembering to make note of people I smiled at! I realised that I smile at strangers more than I first thought … and the more I smiled at people I didn’t know, the more comfortable I felt with it. I also noticed that some strangers gave me odd looks -  what does that say about the world we live in?

19. Have a night at the ballet

Romeo and Juliet at the Lincoln Center followed by Frrrozen Hot Chocolate and Cake at Serendipity3, in May 2009.

23. See Phantom of the Opera at the theatre

A show on Broadway, preceded by a five-course meal at GILT (New York Palace) – I couldn’t have asked for a better night.

Image Credit

20. Fart in a crowded space

Another item crossed off my 25 by 25 list – in David Jones at the Boxing Day Sales in Sydney.

Image Credit