Mid-life Crisis Incoming

It’s been a hot minute since I fired up the old blog and reported in on life in this little corner of the “bush”.

2 years ago we’d just made the move to Mount Gambier and obviously things on the health front had taken a small deviation from the plan. (The plan being to live to a ripe old age whilst being as much of a nuisance to the kids as was humanly possible).

So having just bought a house in the South-East, within 2 months I was back spending time in Radelaide doing fun stuff… (The joys of regional living – the only radiation service in the entire state was 500km away). I can attest to the sheer delight the kids felt at me moving in with them.

Maybe the plan was working afterall! 😉

Since then, I’ve changed job, one kid escaped to Perth, we’ve moved again and Adelaide is home. Two kids are currently resident under our roof, the dogs are beach, Oscar demised and we have two tiny terrorists learning how to boss the joint.

But ultimately I am still here. Still me. Much the same as I ever was, just minus the tiny dragon. Maybe a wee dent to the confidence. But that’s not terminal.

So naturally as one is still alive, one’s mind turns immediately… (OK, 2 years is not necessarily the dictionary definition of immediate, but look, I’m on a roll here) … to doing THINGS.

Things that one cannot do when one is fertiliser or worm fodder.

It was not sparked by my sister entering Ironman Copenhagen. NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. And then enabled by a Run with Turia Facebook group chat talking about a crazy project to run Queenstown Marathon.

Last December is seemed like a fun jape.

Next week I’ve got to commit to dragging my carcass along for a run FOUR times a week. (I’m not necessarily managing the prescribed three at the moment). And the week one long run is a mere 20km.

Personally, I’m a big fan of Scandi Noir, but I suspect this could end up in the horror genre.

However, if you fancy following along as I try to reclaim this body of mine, entice it to do the things I want it to do, rather than having minor rebellions of the cancerous kind, then you are invited.

We are days away from Operation Queenstown.

Facing my fears one footfall at a time!