8 juneathon

I signed up for an unofficial race today. Two miles, 23 June. Race against time. Race against poverty. Race against indifference.  My kind of race.

You can run too. Take a look and sign up.

I think my sharing budget should be at least as big as my racing budget.  Besides I made a kid happy. And that makes me happy.

what is money anyway but love in action.

I ran 5 k today in the sun and wind. I liked the feeling of the wind on my skin. It was blowing so hard the wind stung and I got sand in my eyes and mouth. I love the feeling of being alive.

7 juneathon

I aspired to run today, as planned. But I could not do it this morning. Instead I rode my bike and raced the dog to tire him out before my son and I left for the day to go to Albert's memorial service. My heart started to break again when I suggested my son bring some tissues, and concurred in his decision to wear his suit.  I packed sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs (a symbol of life to me), and tissues of my own.

The procession of young people - Albert's students - started at Central Station in The Hague. When we arrived, I saw scores of young people holding one or two flowers and talking quietly in small groups.  My son quickly joined his friends and I mine.  We are middle-aged parents, red-eyed, weathered and weary.  There is eye contact, but only fleeting glances and tender nods so as not to break the dam.

The train ride to Gouda took no time. No map or directions were needed. One only needed to step into the stream of young people walking down the main road to St John's Church.

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The Church was filled to capacity.  A special section is reserved for Albert's students. The simplicity of his coffin surprises me.  It is unadorned, made of raw blonde wood, with simple knobs holding the top closed. I imagine his broken and battered body inside, and shift my gaze to the flowers and the stained glass windows. 

I kept thinking this is awful.  But really what it is is painful. There are so many young people here.  Albert taught the equivalent of Junior High - budding, awkward adolescents.  Gangly arms and legs, mature faces they won't grow into for several years.

The service is at once beautiful and painful. The students sang together. Many gave tributes.  I listened carefully, understanding most of the Dutch.  I was surprised at the pain in my body. I had pain travel throughout my body during the service. Cramps in my neck and back, stomach, and jaw.  At one point I had a blinding head ache. I kept breathing and thought of Albert and the train.  Perhaps I am porous. 

The children formed a procession with family and close friends and walked Albert's body on a little wagon to the cemetery.  I went to the garden of the church museum and visited with friends for a while, waiting for my son to return. We had coffee and tea and small snacks.  

After a while, my son sent me a message that encouraged me to go home, saying he'd return with his friends.  At the state house I see a beautiful bride and her new groom, and a horse drawn carriage approaching.  I wonder about Albert's wife and the loss of her companion. And his daughters, their father.

I am exhausted. 

Making dinner tonight, I decide on vegetable soup. I have no appetite. I drop a chunk of sweet unsalted butter into the steam pot, turn on the fire, and slice into the base of a cauliflower, releasing the flowerets into the pot. I quarter an onion and remove the skin. I rummage through the fridge and select a courgette and carrots to add to the mix.  I am pleased by the act of preparing the vegetables and cooking them. I wonder how Albert could give this up.  The simplicity of preparing a meal. 

Water and bullion cube, time. I blend the cooked vegetables and add salt and more butter. It's too hot to eat, but I ladle a mug anyway, blowing on each spoonful.  Satisfied, I curl up with my boy on the couch and fall to sleep for a little while. Then I make him food and more food. 

It has stopped raining finally. I receive another message from the school, this one warning again of more bad news. A teacher's child has been killed in a car accident.   I think death comes from birth. The only pain is the disruption of our expectations, about how we think life should unfold. I cannot say this though to my friend who sends me a text message that she is crying again. There is more but it is too fresh to write. I feel hollow.

I take Odie to the beach. He is eager to go, straining to hurry me up. I let him off the lead and he romps and prances, making sand-dog-angels, nestling his whole body into the wet sand. Then he scampers down into the sea. It's flat calm. The sun is low and red and bright. The colors are reflected in the short line on the receding waves.  I wish I brought my camera. Instead, I go sit next to our boat on the beach and look at the sun dropping behind clouds towards the horizon. 

When I get back home, I've made tea and finally write this.

6 juneathon - rest and ride

tri plan says rest. good enough. except I use my bike to get around town. so at least two hours of cycling. Tomorrow is the memorial service in the cathedral in Gouda. I expect it will undo me.  I plan to get up early and have a good run with Odie first. That will help as much as anything. 


I gave a Uni lecture on sustainable development. Getting the students to discuss issues is like opening cherry stone clams. I showed a bunch of film clips from Youtube (playlist link) and then part of a documentary on environmental issues in China made by a Dutch film maker - it was very cool.


I biked over to his house this morning to pick up a copy of the film (Rainmakers). It indeed rained heavily on me. I wanted to take the car but felt guilty about driving to pick up a film on environmental activism.

Anyway. I enjoyed a cappuccino at the shop by the train station afterwards.

Whipped up dinner and got ready to go to my Dutch class. When ....


My boy commented that the ice cream he just took out of the deep freezer was rather soft.  Thank goodness for his ice cream habit. Else we'd be tossing rotten food next week. He did not want to inspect the plug because a spider was in the way.  I cleared the cob and put the plug in another outlet. I haven't figured out the fault, but the freezer light went back on.  I made it to class on time. Prima.

5 Juneathon - coaching by Chrissie

Today feels a bit like rocking the car in the mud. I feel like I'm doing a lot, but may be not making any progress?  Grief is stalking me, but I keep moving.

I treated myself to Audiofuel's Tri Harder album with Chrissie Wellington. Rock on. 

This morning I did the whole 60 min power interval session on the trainer. It was tough. I didn't quit. The power meter says I created 1662 Watts of power, which roughly translates to 1600kcal consumed. Is that really possible? The intervals were 3 minutes long x 3 (with 3 min rest). two sets with a rest period of 8 minutes. I made big hills to make them hard - 3, 4, 5 or 6 % grade.  I used the pain ~ I mean discomfort ~ to train my brain to think clearly when uncomfortable. 

I lifted at lunch. I was already stiff and sore from the ride. My left quad gave me a sharp pain when I did some squats. I think it is from dehydration. I went into the cold-water bath (and the steam & sauna) after training to see if that will help.

R helped me bench press 40 kilos. (88lbs). by help, I mean encouragement. He didn't lift it for me. He stood next to me and told me I can do it. Although it would have been nice if he had done the ab work instead of me. Ow.

I also have swim practice tonight, which will be a perfect antidote to all sore parts.

Last, I have a 10k race on Sunday. I'm not planning on tapering from my tri training, so we'll see how it goes on the day. I have a 75 min run scheduled for Sunday. I think a race-paced 59 minutes will be good enough. Edited: I skipped swim practice to do parental things. So now I'm watching swim technique videos. geek.

4 juneathon

today is a rest day on my tri plan. I find rest a little strange, because I like moving. but it worked out fine today, wiping tears. exercise was hauling groceries, baking brownies and climbing stairs repeatedly to move the laundry through the cycle.  And dog walk.

calling it done. 

blogs are more interesting with photos. so I give you a selection of shoes from my closet.

and an interesting house.

juneathon 3

I really enjoyed running strides and some speed play, mixed in with cruising, walking and talking.

12.2 km

I handled the three minute fartleks comfortably, and had to slow down to stay in my target speed.  That's a new one for me. 

Running in the dunes is grounding, allowing me to discharge the week's events.  A friend of mine killed himself on Wednesday, shocking our tightly-knit community. Part way through the run, I had a good cry.  We took a different route than usual today. I felt sheltered by the trees. Lush green, dripping with the morning rain. 

juneathon day 2 - ride x 2

My son is playing in a basketball tourney today. so I brought my bike and enjoyed a relaxing 30 km ride around zoetermeer. I tried plotting a gps course, which I followed for a while. Then I came to a closed road. so I circled back and did some orienteering. The garmin will take you back to the start point. But I wasn't convinced that the watch would guide me directly back to the sport hall. I used a combination of the GPS on my phone and the watch.  A fun little explore.

After I got home I still wanted to do the hard part (power intervals) on the tri-training schedule. I thought about putting the bike on the trainer, which has a power meter, but it's a crime to do that while the sun is shining. So I went out into the dunes and did the intervals by riding over "the Hill" 8 times. It did the trick.  Another 75 minutes in the training bank.