tuesday treasures

found via Pinterest, original source Mrs Amber Apple

"Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get, And what thou hast, forget'st." -William Shakespeare from Measure for Measure

I thought I'd try something new on here.

Every Tuesday, I'm going to put up a photograph (or several!) of an object in my home that I treasure.  I will tell you the story behind it.  In doing so, I'm hoping that I'll not only get myself posting on here a bit more often (rather than every few months as has been the pattern so far in 2011!) but also an exercise in gratitude and in common sense.  I already have plenty and do not need to wander the King's Road or Oxford Street like a homing pigeon every weekend, buying things I don't need.  I am trying to save at the moment too, but regardless of how much money I have I don't need to go out and buy things I don't need when I have so much already.  Many years ago when I was at the beginning of my health and fitness journey, before I put anything in my mouth I would say to myself, "do I really need this right now?" and often the answer would be no.  So I'm putting that into practice again.

Anyway, on to Tuesday Treasures.  There are so many things in my home that I love to look at and be reminded of the place I got it, or the person who gave it to me.  My living room and bedroom are a kaleidescope of memories.  Scents and dust do not disturb them.  Age does not weary them.

Years ago when I was packing up my belongings in Melbourne, I remember being so bone weary and almost crying with frustration having to deal with all this...stuff.  Some of it I didn't even know why I had.  Just being desperate to escape the situation I had been in the year before, I had flung things into boxes and thought I'd sort it out later.  I didn't even know what was in half of them.  I ended up giving things away, selling things on eBay, leaving things on the street for people to help themselves to if they wished.  My boxes that I shipped to England had mostly books in them.  My favourite mug (I'll show it to you next week).  A teapot.  Photographs.  Very little else.

If you've ever left your country and don't know when, or if, you'll be back, you'll know how strange it feels; like you're at a party and a funeral all at the same time.  One thing I resolved to myself during that time was that I would never allow myself to be weighed down by possessions ever again.  I would only have things around me that were useful or that meant something to me.  Everything else had to serve its purpose and then be passed on.  I've mostly lived like that for the past four years, and have accumulated many treasures in that time that I would be loathe to part with, but slowly the clutter, the unnecessary, the "why do I have this?" element is creeping back.  It's time for a clean out.

So without further ago, today's treasure is this:

It's a little tin that once held a single chocolate.

Last year, one of my dearest friends, who I have known since we were seven, flew over to London for my wedding.  She also went over to Berlin to see her aunty who lives there, and when she came back, she gave me this.

The chocolate was divine.  I remember it was like a truffle, crusted with tiny sugar crystals.  Unlike every other chocolate I've eaten, this one left a memento behind.

I keep the tin on my dresser.  Looking at it always makes me think of last September, the wedding, and her being here.  And inside I keep.....another treasure....

These are the earrings I wore on my wedding day.  My mum and dad bought them for me and they are my favourite.  They are the little black dress of earrings.  They make any outfit, even just a white t shirt and jeans, look amazing.  I love that I can wear them with anything; their gentle weight and glittering edges that catch the sunlight remind me of that happy, happy day.

With some big changes possibly ahead of me, I'm finding comfort in the little things.  Cliches are cliches for a reason :)

What's your Tuesday Treasure? 

Please do join in on your own blogs - leave a link in the comments so we can check your treasure out! I'll try and get one of those widget thingys working on here too.


Update: result! Widget link thingy below. Oh, and I just remembered it might be Wednesday where you are by now :P 

india, part 1

Friends, I finally feel able to breathe.

Today I made myself a pot of the Tulsi Ginger tea I bought in India.  Allow me to pour you a virtual cup:

So, let's sit here together, in my rain splattered courtyard garden, our hands cupped around our mugs of spicy warm tea, and I'll tell you all about my trip to India.  It was only last month, but it feels....well, it's July next week, need I say more?

Would you like a piece of chocolate cake too?

Sorry, I couldn't wait! How rude of me :) 

Watching the rain fall down here, it amazes me that last month I was in a magical place where my clothes were damp with sweat rather than rain.  My bones are aching for the warmth.

Oh, India!  Where do I start?

I had only a week in this enchanting, haunting and intense place; it was a constant assault on the senses.  To anyone going to India, I would say "believe everything you've heard, and then forget it".  In many ways it was exactly what I thought it would be, and yet it challenged and surpassed every expectation.

My India journey began when I travelled with colleagues to the city of Hyderabad.  I'd say Hyderabad is the Canberra of India - quite an important city for business and some rather lovely sights and things to do.....and lots of roundabouts :) 

Walking outside the airport I was immediately hit with the overpowering, bone drenching heat.  The sky sparkled.  The air smelled of spices, cooking oil and dust.  There was a McDonalds outside the airport, advertising the delights of McAloo.  I wasn't tempted!

Our hotel had arranged a taxi to collect us - a sign saying "Mr Philippa Moore" greeted me as I walked outside!  We rolled out of the airport and on to the highway towards the city.  Initially it looked like any other highway, just with tropical looking trees and shrubs flowering on the sides of the road, and women in jewel coloured sarees sweeping the verges with long handbrushes.

The highway eventually morphed into a smaller road that led into the city.  The buildings were dilapidated but fully functioning - there were sweet shops, wine shops, barbers, welders and other merchants whose speciality wasn't obvious (!) - alongside shanty towns of corrugated iron and bright blue tarp sheets.  There were cows with giant curved horns being led down the side of the road, people carrying baskets on their heads, digging in the dirt, tending fires, or smashing bricks neatly.  Herds of goats nosed around in the neat piles of garbage.  Women in bright sarees sat in a neat line for the bus.  And then some temples came into view, painted the most incredible candy pinks, greens, purples, blues and yellows; their pillars, doors and windows adorned with garlands of flowers, wisps of incense smoke drifting in the air, and statues of gods and goddesses smiling broadly outwards.

The road snaked in between what the taxi driver told us was Old and New Hyderabad - more colonial looking sandstone buildings on one side and more square, still-being-constructed white buildings on the other.  The driver also pointed out the ancient fort which is one of the main attractions of the city.  As we got further in, the traffic started getting thicker and more chaotic.  The way people drive in India is that if there is a space they can drive into and overtake the car in front of them with, even if it's on the other side of the road, they do it!  They just beep the horn as they do it (instead of indicating)!  As you can imagine, there is a lot of noise on the roads!! Rickshaws and motorbikes carrying up to four people were weaving in and out of the lines of cars - I saw a little family on one! - as the traffic carried on  past the roundabouts, parks, flower-adorned public statues, temples, to the Marriott Hotel which is situated by the Sagar Lake, a large man made lake.  There was also a walled graveyard opposite the hotel which had "graveyard - do not urinate on this wall" spray painted across it several times!

The Marriott was a compound unto itself.  Before entering the grounds the car was searched with a reflector and a sniffer dog.  Then, once the car pulled up to the entrance, our bags were put through a scanning machine like the ones at airport security, and men and women were taken off separately one at a time to a curtained off area where we were individually scanned!  Prashant, my colleague, said all hotels had tightened their security following the terrorist attacks in Mumbai in 2008.  But once we were inside it was cool and beautiful, and the heat and dust were replaced with smells of frangipani and lemon.  A fountain flowed merrily in the middle of the reception area.

-

We checked in and then were escorted to our rooms.  My room was large and spacious, with the most comfortable bed I've slept on in years, made with luxurious linens, with a lovely view of the graveyard! (my colleagues were on the other side and had a pool view!)

I was utterly enchanted!

My colleagues who had flown over with me from London desperately wanted to sleep, as did I - it was about 6am UK time by this point and we had basically been up all night! We'd left London at about 2pm the previous day, stopped in Dubai and then connected to Hyderabad from there, so it was the best part of 16 hours travelling.  I let myself sleep for 2 hours and then got up again, as groggy as I was, to get myself on Indian time.  It always works!

So after waking up from my power nap, I had a small lunch in the hotel restaurant - my first Indian food in India!  I had a simple meal of rice, dhal and paneer, and they made me some fresh naan bread in their tandoor.  I felt surprisingly ok on so little sleep!  And brushing my teeth with bottled water took some getting used to, I kept forgetting and rinsed my brush under the tap!  I also got a funny call from the concierge at the hotel, they were updating my profile on the hotel database.  I got asked - "what is your favourite fruit Miss Moore?  And what is your favourite drink?  Do you like music?  Do you like to party?  And what is your favourite travel destination?"  I half expected a crate of mangoes and gin and tonics to appear outside my room! Heh heh!

View of the city and lake from the hotel

 I had an early night and was awake very early the next morning, so decided to haul myself up to the hotel gym where I cranked out an impressive 10k on the treadmill - I don't know where I got the energy from!  It was so damn hot in the gym, even with air conditioning.  Then I met my colleagues for breakfast, where I was cooked a traditional dosa - a pancake, stuffed with curried potato.  They brought over a spicy red lentil soup to go with it.  I dipped bites of the pancake into a coconut chutney, then into the soup, then ate them.  It was delicious but most unusual, more like lunch than breakfast! 

The work side of things went very well - my talk was on the first day of the conference and things went very smoothly!  We were given a traditional welcome, as you can see from the photo of me below.  The red dot on the space between my eyebrows is called "tilak".   This red mark is regarded as the sign of good wishes, blessings and fortune.  We also were given a traditional garland of flowers, which symbolise love and respect.  I thought it was so wonderful and didn't take my garland off for the whole day, even though the flowers had started to wilt in the heat.

That evening I relaxed with my work colleagues - they were very nervous about getting food poisoning so we just stuck to the hotel restaurant and entertainment.  We ate beautiful food - the fresh naan was the highlight for me, it was more like pastry than bread!  Yummo!

And we went for a swim in the pool after dark, which was lit up with tiny lights like fireflies.  All the while we could hear the honking and hooting from the cars and rickshaws on the surrounding streets.

On the second day I woke up feeling a bit ordinary, like I had a cold coming.   I was a bit grumpy about it, especially seeing as I was about to head off on my own travels and didn't want to be sick for them.  But I thought about it and actually heard a message from my body (weird I know!) saying "hey! You've given me a long haul flight, plus hardly any sleep, plus a 10k run, plus indian stomach antibiotics, plus malaria pills, plus all the curry you can handle....what do you expect?!" so I stopped moping, chilled out and felt a lot better. Choose your thoughts like you would your clothes, etc :)

Yes, I had been rereading Eat Pray Love too!  It put me in a very reflective mood.

After we finished the conference on Day 2, we were taken to a few shops around Hyderabad that had been recommended to us - first of all we stopped off at Febindia, which had shelves and shelves of clothes, tablecloths, napkins, cushion covers and lots of teas, incense and other things.  The lights went off in the shop about three times while we were in there, due to the generator overheating!  I got a beaded top and two tins of tea, (including the ginger one we're drinking) and it came to about £9.  

Then we went to a strange jewellery shop where my colleagues bought some pearls! It reminded me of Argos because it was so busy! But instead of flipping through the sacred catalogue of all knowledge (for all you Bill Bailey fans out there!) you were taken to a seat and the salespeople brought all the pearls out to you. There were three guys in the corner restringing pearls under lamplights with tiny scissors and another man walking around with tiny silver cups of chai for the customers.

The next day we were taken early to the Hyderabad airport - my colleagues were going back to Dubai, I was heading on to Goa for a little holiday!  I was really excited to see a bit more of India.  The real India, I thought.  I was already quite enchanted by it, but I was well aware that it's easy to be enchanted by a place when you're viewing it through the lens of a five star Western style hotel.  

And so I was on my own.  I caught a flight to Bangalore, where I waited for a few hours, and entertained myself by looking at all the books in the shops, they were some gems like this one:

And this one!

I then caught my flight to Goa from there.  The food on the planes was fantastic! Paneer, rice, roti bread, and a lovely pineapple sambal.  I couldn't get enough of the stuff!  Qantas, take note!  Why can't all airline food be like this? :)

When I finally emerged from the airport at Goa, there was a guy with a sign with my name on it and we headed down to Palolem Beach, it was about an hour's drive from the airport.  The urban highways and residential developments slowly became a thicker, greener, almost jungle like landscape.  It was a really interesting drive - I saw lots of lorries that were decorated with pictures of gods and goddesses, and lots of "Jesus Saves" lorries too (Goa is a predominantly Christian area of India, I was told).  In the back of one truck, there were about four workers having a nap on top of the bags of concrete.

And I almost squealed with delight when I saw an elephant walking along the side of the road next to the car!  They are working animals in this area, I think my driver said they were from the spice farm.  The only time I've ever seen elephants is in a zoo, it was amazing to see one walking along the road, and another one further down, waiting patiently by a shop while it's owner had a chai :) 

Finally we arrived in the village of Palolem, one of the few parts of Goa still open before monsoon season hits.  There was no sign that bad weather was on the way, it was a sticky 36 degrees each day that I was there!  I signed in at the resort office - I loved how they wrote everything in a book, nothing was done on a computer - and then I was shown to my little beach cottage!  I loved it on sight:

It was very basic inside, but it had air conditioning!  The door was locked with an intricate padlock that reminded me of the one that went on my high school locker.

The grounds of the resort were magnificent, filled with lush flowers and plants, even coconut trees.  It was paradise.

The beach was gorgeous.  I don't really appreciate how much I miss the ocean, living in London.  The Thames doesn't quite cut it sometimes. The sands were silky white, burning hot after a day's sun, littered with boats and herds of cows sunbathing.  The sun was starting to dip behind the hills, streaking the sky peach and bronze.

I had been feeling quite unwell that day, so I had another early night, found myself awake at 3am and listened to some Book Show podcasts to get me back to sleep, and woke up the next morning feeling fantastic.  I washed briefly with my bucket and jug (it was surprisingly fun and refreshing - and the thing was, I was sweaty and grubby again the minute I stepped outside!) and then spent the majority of the day on the beach, eating, drinking, writing and taking it all in.  I had a masala omelette and toast for breakfast, and a watermelon juice (which was beautiful!) and then before I knew it, a few hours had passed and I was hungry again, so I had some beer and the most beautiful curry I think I've had in my life. Everything was so fresh and fragrant.

I wrote and watched people on the beach.  There were women walking around with jewellery and bright sparkly scarves and fabrics to sell, and one woman was doing henna tattoos.  She spent about an hour on one girl's shoulder.  I watched, transfixed.

I walked the entire length and breadth of Palolem beach:

I ended up doing a 2 hour one-on-one yoga class on a cliff at sunset - I had seen signs for the class, but when I got to the end of the beach there was no obvious sign where the class actually was.  Eventually a passerby showed me - it was quite a trek!  It reminded me of the winding, rocky beaches near where I spent some years of my childhood in Cygnet, south of Hobart.  I was convinced I was wandering through someones backyard, but my chaperone didn't seem phased.  Eventually he pointed to a hill in the distance and left me to it!  Eventually I saw this sign:

And climbed my way to the top!

It was a glorious view from that clifftop.  There was a concrete circle, with yoga mats arranged outwards from the centre like spokes on a wheel.  I had only brought my Yogitoes towel (gift of Mary, which goes everywhere with me) but there were mats I could use.  At first I didn't think anyone was going to show up, not even the teacher!  I decided I'd just do my own practice whatever happened, but then the teacher Raja showed up and we got started.  He was a real character!   But there was something so calming about being on that cliff, as the sun was starting to burn away and sink behind the hills.

"No one who comes to yoga goes away empty handed," he said as we set our intentions for the practice.  I thought that was beautiful. 

It was an invigorating practice, a lovely way to dust the cobwebs of jet lag off.  I just kept thinking about my humbler than humble origins in yoga - doing a DVD I'd bought from an Avon catalogue in my lounge room - and now here I was, doing tree pose on a cliff overlooking a beach in India.....We stopped the class halfway through to watch the dolphins frolicking in the waves.  I thought to myself, I'll wake up soon.  It was all very surreal and beautiful.

  

We took some pictures at the end - it was kind of cool to have some pictures of me practising yoga, and I was dismayed to realise I don't quite look like Shiva Rea ;)

"Something to show your mum and dad," smiled Raja.

He was a gentle, generous man, and introduced me to his wife and young daughter afterwards.  It was 400 rupees for the 2 hour one-on-one class, which is about £6.  A bargain to say the least.  I was uncomfortably aware that the amount of money I had on me to last me the rest of my trip would probably be enough to keep him and his family going for some time.  Oh, the western guilt.  It weighed heavily on me.  When you see how happy people are with so little, it does make you question a lot of things.  I certainly came away feeling grateful for what I have.  These feelings were even more acute in Mumbai, where the disparity between the wealthy and the poorest of the poor is even more overwhelming.  In Goa the beauty of the beaches and landscape subdued that for a while. 

I went back to the same beach-front cafe/bar for dinner, and enjoyed  many Kingfisher beers and the same curry I had had for lunch, I couldn't resist.  The staff recognised me from earlier in the day and said "are you sure?  Don't you want the barbecue?", showing me the hot coals they had set up on the shore and the vast array of fresh fish on offer.  I was sorely tempted but all I wanted was that beautiful curry, the fragrant rice, and the soft crispy fresh naan.  And watermelon juice.

I beavered away at my netbook, chatted to some very nice people and then managed to have a Skype call with Tom on the free wifi.  I stayed at Cuba Goa, drinking and writing, until they kicked me out! Man do I know how to live the wild life ;) ha ha.

I stayed up until I hit the 100,000 word mark.  I knew I wasn't going to finish the whole thing before my 30th birthday (now only a fortnight away) but I was pleased to have hit that milestone.  The fans rushed and whirred above my head as I typed and then collapsed into a happy sleep.

Breakfasted the next morning on the beach.  This lovely creature kept me company:

The beach was full of stray dogs that wander around, or sunbathe, or keep people company.  They aren't officious at all, they just wander around looking at what's going on, checking out the action.  Even though I'd had my shots I knew it wasn't a good idea to give her lots of pats, so I just enjoyed the company and gave her a crust of my toast when I'd finished :)

Did a bit of marketing:

I got stared at a lot, which I was told to expect, but what I wasn't prepared for was how many people would come up and ask to have a picture with me!  It was a bit strange but I laughed it off.  Everyone I met was so friendly and kind, and seemed more than happy to assist me or point me in the right direction. 

I checked out some of the local shops where I met a strange lady who sold all manner of things, all of which she claimed were "good luck"!  She had a rather fierce look about her and I was worried I'd be cursed if I didn't buy anything!  I ended up buying some incense off her and as she handed the bag to me in exchange for my 100 rupee note, her eyes narrowed and she said "IS GOOD LUCK!"

I hope so, I thought as I left the shop!  Three weeks later, I burned the incense the night before a 10k race.  I had hurt my foot and wasn't sure if I'd be able to run.  The next morning I woke up and I could run! So yes, maybe it was good luck.

Eventually I went back to my favourite stall where I got a lovely dress and tablecloth, and a Gandhi t shirt for Tom!  The owner, Anita, and I had a lovely chat.  She was the second person who offered to buy my dress off me (no way, it's my favourite!)

Two days in Goa was not enough.  I will go back.  I can still taste the watermelon juice. 

I caught the flight to Mumbai later that day.  I think that was when the real adventure began, where India revealed another layer.

To be continued...........

make this

Photo by Tom

This looks like the most decadent chocolate concoction known to man.  Would you believe me if I told you it was vegan and gluten free?!

I got the recipe from Oh She Glows, whose recipes I love reading about but I don't have a big kitchen or much in the way of equipment, so as tempted as I often am to try them out, the predicted resulting mess in the kitchen is enough to put me off.  This chocolate torte was somehow different.  It called my name.  Seriously.  Phil.  You must make me. 

There was nothing overly complicated in the recipe - most of the stuff I already had in my cupboard.  These were my substitutions and additions:

• Instead of arrowroot, I used good old Tesco cornflour.
• Instead of almond milk (too pricey), I used organic oat milk (a third of the price). 
• Instead of chocolate chips, I used my favourite dark chocolate, Green and Black's  85% dark.

And, and, this is the important bit, I put in some freshly grated orange zest.  This made all the difference.  I decided if my kitchen was going to look like a tornado I should multi-task, so I had put on a pan of rhubarb and apples to roast, and had put some fresh orange juice and zest in with them.  Somehow some zest got on the spoon I was using to taste the chocolate avocado mousse topping and it was AMAZING.  Ange says you can't taste the avocado, but maybe I hadn't mixed it thoroughly enough because I could. So I put some more cocoa powder in and then once the orange zest was in there, it took it to a whole new level!

But I think that's an important thing to remember too - it's never going to taste like it has eggs, sugar, etc in it when it doesn't.  It's about enjoying this alternative for its own sake, not expecting it to replicate the exact flavours of other foods.  While I enjoy all foods I choose to eat without feeling guilty (because I choose to have them), I do find myself leaning towards things like this more and more. They are decadent in a different way.  Not every bite is loaded with the temple-aching sweetness that you'd get from a Patisserie Valerie chocolate torte; it's a richness that I can't quite name.  The buttery nuts, the pure taste of good cocoa and chocolate, the tartness of the ripe fruits, all coming together as Nature intended them to be.  Enjoyed.

Now that's decadent.

Here's the recipe again - and cheers to Angela for a true winner!  I'll be making this again for sure. 

Seriously, do make it.  It's gorgeous. And I think the crust could be made on its own and rolled into little balls in coconut for a pseudo-truffle experience :)

Tonight I'm having the human equivalent of a car service with the folks at Move Three Sixty - where my current nutritional and physical state will have a going over by the experts!  I'm actually really excited about it, but wonder if I'll come away from it feeling smug or shocked!  I think that I have a very healthy lifestyle, but I also go through periods where I'm very busy, like most people, and I know when I've had a few too many treats or need to step things up a notch with the fitness - it's all about balance and I like to think I get it right for me most of the time.  But we'll see!  Either way I'll let you all know what happens and whether I just need an oil change, or a complete engine overhaul :)

Hope you are all going well!

race report: bupa london 10000

I don't know where the weeks are going at the moment guys! Life has been one big blur since the marathon :)

As promised, here is my little write up on the BUPA 10,000 which Tom and I did together last Monday (feels like ages ago). Tom's already done his -  his race report was just fantastic, and much funnier than mine will be ;)

Basically, all was well in the lead up to the race - we only had four weeks to train Tom for it, and that was a huge challenge but I was lucky that he seemed to have some natural ability for the sport!  While he certainly wasn't a runner to begin with, he wasn't unfit either.  The first few times we went out together were a bit of a struggle, but we worked on a combination of running/walking and I threw in some uphill strides and half squats to build up his strength.  Tom was often really sore after our training, and so we kept an eye on that with lots of stretching afterwards.  He did grumble a bit ;)

I went to India for a week in early May, and left Tom with a strict schedule to stick to while I was away - I was always very pleased to get a text telling me how he went!  And I kept up the training too - I did 10k on a treadmill in the hotel gym, and a yoga class on the beach in Goa! (it's a hard life isn't it)  

Before I knew it, it was our last run before the race, and we smashed out 7km, which was full of energy and did wonders for Tom's confidence.  And as for me, well, I wasn't worried about how I would fare with the distance at all!  (oh, that self assurance was in tatters 24 hours later!) We spent the remainder of that Saturday afternoon wandering around Sloane Square, writing in Starbucks and then strolled briskly home to beat the rain.

Sunday, I woke up and my right foot was throbbing!  What the?!

I think it was the shoes I had worn on Saturday afternoon - they're not the most supportive flat shoes I own (just very pretty). But I thought that was it - forget BUPA!  I couldn't put any weight on my right foot.  I could barely walk.  I rested for a few hours, which did nothing.  I put tiger balm on the foot, which also did nothing.  I iced the foot, which, you guessed it, did nothing.

We were both gutted.  It was looking very unlikely I'd be able to run 10k the next day - if I couldn't walk, I definitely couldn't run!  And if I tried I would probably make it worse, which would make me an idiot!  We were very sad because the thought of Tom having to run it on his own was a bit of a downer, but I didn't want him to pull out either after all his hard work.  Sigh.  What to do?

Luckily, my lovely pal Suburban Yogini came to the rescue.  She suggested I get a tennis ball and try to stand on it with the bad foot, and then go back and forth over it to massage it.  I didn't have a tennis ball, but I had a dumbbell that had a round end a similar size to a tennis ball, so I used that.  It hurt like hell!  But within a few minutes it felt better.  Less knotted.  I also lit some incense I bought from a strange little shop in Goa - the woman who owned the shop had it burning on her shrine.  She tried to sell me heaps of things, exclaiming that everything was good luck.  I suspected she might place a curse on me if I didn't buy anything (!) so I got this incense, which smells lovely, and she narrowed her eyes at me as I paid for it and said, "IS GOOD LUCK!"  I hoped she was right!

We had a no-frills risotto for dinner, me rolling my foot on the dumbell all the while, laid out our kits, and went to bed.  I couldn't make a decision, it still hurt but there was the possibility that this massage, and eight hours of rest, would miraculously heal it.  There was nothing to be done until the morning.

We were awake the next morning quite early, and I was able to put weight on the foot.  It felt SO much better!  I could walk!  Alleluia!   I decided I would go and run, but if I found it painful, I would stop.  But in the end, I didn't have to worry about it, because the pain actually went away as I ran...it was so freaky!  Was the weird Goan incense good luck after all?! ;)

Tom did his usual fuel of bread, banana and Lucozade bars; I had a bit of banana and Lucozade bar.  Then we got dressed, pinned our numbers on and headed off to Green Park!!  Now that I could walk again I was excited!!

I think Tom enjoyed the atmosphere of the start - he said it was really exciting to be taking part for a change, rather than just being a spectator! 

Tom before the start, a photo by philippa_moore on Flickr.

Us at the start, a photo by philippa_moore on Flickr.

It was starting to get very warm!  It was lovely being in our start zone, feeling the golden warm sunshine on my bare arms :)  It was also lovely having someone to talk to at the start.  I'm so used to being on my own at these things and it was so great having Tom there to talk to and psych each other up! 

The start, a photo by philippa_moore on Flickr.

It took a while for us to get to the start - the race started at 11am and we didn't cross the start line until 11.30am, so there was a bit of hanging around and my usual "do I need the loo?" feeling, but it was all good!  Everyone was getting very excited, there was a nice vibe in our start group :)

Finally, we headed off, up Birdcage Walk (which was the last part of the London marathon) to Parliament Square, past Big Ben and down the Embankment!  The roads were closed and the streets were lined with people watching and cheering.  There were also some superb bands playing to keep the momentum going - Tom loved the live music!  You really don't need an iPod at this kind of event, the atmosphere is so fantastic and gives you such a buzz.

Tom and I were side by side the whole way, and kept encouraging each other - I actually needed heaps of encouragement because I was worried about my foot, despite everything!  We slowed the pace when we needed to, and I kept waiting for Tom to say he needed a walking break, but he never did!  We passed 7km, the most he had ever done without stopping, and we kept going.  8km, we kept going.  "You've broken your record!" I grinned at him.    9km was a great marker to see, I think we were both a bit relieved, but we were absolutely pumped!  The music was still going strong on the Embankment, and Tom's face was a curious mixture of exhaustion and exhiliration.

"Now I know why you love running," he said.

Finally we headed up Whitehall towards the turnoff to the finish on the Mall - somehow we both summoned the extra energy and picked up the pace for the final 400m!  I thought Tom had got over the finish line just ahead of me, but our official finishing times were exactly the same - 1:04:24!  Tom kept running after he got over the line, he was pumped!  And I was SO proud of him!

What a race!  For a first timer and a marathoner with a dodgy foot, we did pretty well!  Tom was absolutely buzzing and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I watched him.  The exhiliration of crossing the finish line in your first ever race is incredible, nothing compares to it.  "You will always be able to say you ran the BUPA 2011 10k," I said, "no one will ever be able to take that away from you."  We put our medals on each other  - it was very cute :)  And then I got out the camera:

10k man with his medal, a photo by philippa_moore on Flickr.

We're 10k'ers! Go Team Cyberdyne! :) , a photo by philippa_moore on Flickr.

Then we headed home in the sunshine, medals around our necks, grinning like mad things, feeling so, so happy!  We originally had planned to celebrate by having a beer in our favourite local pub on the way home, but as it was Bank Holiday Monday it wasn't open until 4pm (it was only about 1pm at this point)!  So we went to the local Wine Rack and got a few ice cold Steinlagers and had those in our backyard in the glorious sun, and toasted Tom and his first ever 10k victory!!

It's hard to believe it was only about 10 days ago!  And what's next...well, who knows!  Watch this space!

I think Tom said it best in his write up - that it was a great challenge for him, but it was never impossible; all he needed to do was get off his arse and do it!  I believed in him every step of the way, having had the most humble of humble beginnings in this sport myself, and I think eventually he believed in himself too.  That really is the key, I think.  Believe in yourself, and celebrate what you can do - which is often more than you think. 

And I really loved coaching!  It was so much fun, and so gratifying to see Tom graduate from a person who had never run in his life to someone who could do a 10k, and enjoy it!  And all in 4 weeks!  Anyone else want me to coach them? ;) ha ha


Cheers as always to my mates at Lucozade for their support and putting us in the race!