Day 2: Hell is a Hill

Hell presented itself to me today in the form of a never ending hill, no wait a mountain, possibly the highest in Southern Africa.

As I sweated and toiled I am convinced I could hear my FAT (Freshly Aching Tissue) collapse and fall to the ground screaming like a teenager who has been given her first credit card. I was unable to cry as this process requires tears and they come from your tear-ducts in your eyes in your head, my heart had no energy to pump blood against gravity and so my brain was dying. No brain equals no pain equals no tears, Einsteins Fictional Law of Cycles.

I was like a gazelle who gracefully fell off a cliff on the downhills and all I could hear was the flapping of my cheeks as the air filled my mouth, dodging imaginary racers and raising my buttocks to the skies in defiance. The road leveled out and rose and I was in my element, man and machine against nature. After 20m I stopped and tried to adjust the tiny screw that adjusted my gearing with my thumbnail, my nail broke and I was sure I heard the unmistakable laughter of Chuck Norris and Bear Grylls somewhere far far away. Sucking up my pride I set off again and found the local schools practicing their English with me as they overtook me on foot. 

You may be asking yourself what does a pro-athlete like myself think about when they are in the zone, how the heck should I know!!!! I was wondering if it were possible to vomit up a lung and if the body would bounce if I fainted due to the altitude, after all Lesotho is not called the Mountain Kingdom for nothing. And then I looked up and I saw before me Hell, and it was bad, and I said unto myself, "Oh Crap". 
I speak with with experience when I say that the road to hell is paved with tar, loose gravel and the sweat of overweight middle-aged men atoning for a lifetime of laughing in the face of exercise.

And then it was over, I crawled into a shower, lay on my bed and believe it or not planned my next ride.

A Pirate Forever

If you were a pirate!

Would you, could you, hold a cutlass to the throat of a man, look him in the eye and lean and say, "Well shiver me timbers, you want to date me daughter?"
As he sweats and his lower lip trembles, would you be able to say "Is it worth losing an eye and a hand over me laddie, if ye were daft enough to attempt to kiss her or lay one of your filthy paws on her, would you hear the oncoming blade as it swings towards your ever so pale exposed neck?"

Upon the birth of daughters, there is an ancient unwritten law that permits the father to take as many lives by any means as often as he deems fit, to protect the dignity and innocence of his angels. It is also stipulated in the same creed that his daughters are never at fault and any young smelly lying heathen male who insinuates differently should be dealt a slow painful death of the fathers choosing.

In days of old, it was customary for young ladies to wear chastity belts and be visible at all times.
Then there emerged the most evil of devices, the cellular phone.
It is a device so devious and despicable and when placed in the hands of a pimply overdressed hustler, allows many to hypnotise young ladies into poses and pouts no parent should ever be allowed to see. It is because of these threats that dads all over the world were solely responsible for the rise of a species called Zombies. Zombies are nothing more than teenage boys who have been injected with a Rabied Endorsed Drug Biologically Undertaking Life Loss, also commonly known as RED BULL. The state the teenager male emerges from after consumption of this drug, brainless and in seek of brains as he has none of his own, placing the entire world at risk and allows for the need of FATHER.
FATHER (Fighter Assassin Teacher Hero Eradicator Robot) is called upon to save the day, he the Bruce Willis of Destruction, the Chuck Norris of Toughness and the Incredible Hulk of Negotiators, when a teenage girl shouts "FATHER" he springs into action and protects her at all costs.

So why a pirate?

Simply because some have branded him outdated, over-protective and even, well I hate to mention it, barbaric. Pirates served a purpose fighting for those who could not fight for themselves, they sailed seas and fought monsters and finely dressed pampered sons of the Queen to protect their treasure.  Daughters are the treasure that FATHER protects and thus he is a modern day pirate, a saint whose passion is often not understood or honoured.

In closing, let this be an encouragement for all the Pirates out there, you have a mission and responsibility to uphold and protect that which is dear and sacred to you, your daughters.

Nite and happy hunting

Sundays, Cycling & Death

Sunday nights are the pits.

I am in darkest Africa and am currently camera-less, work is getting busy, but like all projects away from home the weekends are long. I am not a sociable drinker so clinging onto a bar counter like a three year old holding onto his penis is not really my thing.
My Mom and sister have knitted some teddy bears, scarves and beanies for the kids in Lesotho so this weekend they will be delivered, how my Mom manages this while looking after my Dad with advanced Parkinsons is indeed astounding. I am alone and I barely manage to look after myself, in fact if my bottom wasn't connected to my body, I am sure I would have misplaced it by now.

I have come to realise that my girls are at an age where they need their parents less and less and are becoming independant little adults. I think it is harder for a Dad to accept as they are always going to be my little angels, I mean that's why I have the chloroform, cable ties, baseball bat and hacksaw or as I prefer to call it, my "Dexter Welcoming Kit". When I am having a bad day or feeling lonely, I think of my girls or try and make contact with a friend back in SA, sometimes I find someone to chat to and sometimes they are able to chat, so I need a cuddle buddy and a chat buddy. Should you wish to apply for any of the positions, please mail me on tedlodewijks@gmail.com and I will respond accordingly, tequila or milkshakes will be supplied.



I am also considering aquiring a bicycle, my concerns are that I will be able to walk, sit or get out of the bath after my first cycle, as I am living with 15 guys I would also rather die naked in the bath than have them rescue me. So the cos by far outweigh the pros at this stage, also whoever designed cycling kit must have been more in touch with his happy side than Elton John after a couple of strawberry daquiris. And for the record guys, any drink that has an umbrella, fruit or needs to be drunk through a straw is meant for the ladies, just saying.

On that extremely biased note, I must leave you and head into a 3 hour meeting.

Nite all

War

I watched a movie that drew so many emotions from me last night that I just felt I had to write about it. My girlfriend (and yes I am smiling as I type this) suggested a movie called "Across the Universe". It is a musical based on the music of the Beatles set in America during the Vietnam War.

What really got to me was the draft system and how it was enforced. In South Africa, we had no choice and were sent off after high school to train to fight in a war we didn't believe in.

What infuriates me is that the 2 years wasted were gone, there were definitely aspects that were gained including special friendships and mental toughness.
Some folk were changed for the worse and some didn't recover.

War is simply a commercial exercise used to run corrupt economies and the impact on the pawns used to commit the killing is a calculated casualty.

You and I are simply numbers and as such are not entitled to think, speak or question the motive behind it. I admire those who protested against it and challenged the system, they called the government murderers.

"War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing!"

Nite all

Friends in Need

Life a certain way of hurting you, letting you get back on your feet and then crushing you. When your chest tightens, you have a lump in your throat and the tears are waiting in the corner of your eyes. I don't want this but it is not about me, its about two dear friends one has been told she has terminal cancer and not long to live and the other is her husband. My dear dear friends, I am so sad and have no idea what to do, I would like to run away and just pretend I didn't hear it. I would easily take the cowards choice.

Tomorrow I have to go see him and hopefully her too and somehow try and keep it all together or not. I am crying as I write this and I know he is hurting so badly. How must she feel to know it is almost done?

I imagine he has shrunk under the strain and I want to hug him and hold him as he cries. Or is it that I want him to hold me as I cry.

Love is so special and can give so much, but when it takes it rips and tears and leaves holes where it used to be. Love is an angry woman committing a crime of passion, nothing is spared as she strikes at all in her proximity.

There is no dignity in pain, in sorrow, in illness. It is real and raw and ruthless.

I cannot continue tonight, I must see my friends and touch them and somehow offer to share this burden.

Nite

Death adds Life

I was wondering about our fascination with death and how we are surrounded by it, live with it and in most cases we aren't even aware of it. Think about your hair. Its basically dead. Yet we cut it, style it, colour it, wash and condition it, but its dead!!

We spend money preparing for when we die and worry about what will or might or may not happen and before we realise it we are overcome with all this "concern". Suppose its a case of worrying instead of living for the moment.

So what's the answer Doc?

Try starting each day with a really big stretch, walk to a mirror and greet yourself with a smile and maybe even a wink. At this point make it a rule to greet the next 10 people you see with a smile and a "good morning" irrespective who they are or if you know them or not.
Then find 10 minutes of "me time" and have a cup of tea or a mug of coffee or warm water and just reflect on yesterdays highlights and smile. If you had a really bad day then be grateful that you have a new day, another chance, a clean slate.
As for the argument that you don't have 10 minutes, I don't accept that. You can't find 10 minutes out of 1440 minutes in a day for you? You are worth it and deserve it.

This won't fix everything, but if we can start with a smile we have a much better chance of it rubbing off on someone else.

Give it a go, all it will cost you is 10 minutes a day.

Nite all.

Tomorrow

Is it ok to feel scared?
Am I allowed to say it out loud and even think of it?
Will I be branded a coward for admitting it?

I have written exams and passed, played competitive sport and won and lost, spent almost 3 years in the Army and been married, divorced and more. I have been retrenched more than once, held my sick child and told God that if He wanted to take her I would let her go.

I have failed in business and cooked and delivered the cooked food on a scooter to keep my family fed.

I am not proud of what I have done, I am grateful I am still standing. I have cried like a baby when it dawned on me that my marriage was dead, sobbed when I first saw my then still wife and my ex friend in my kitchen cooking and living where I used to belong.

I have slept on couches in friends homes because I had nowhere to go, lived with families who opened their hearts and lives to me.

I have longed as that which I loved was taken from me and I felt the raw pain like an operation without an anaesthetic.
Lost my dog, obedient to death as she breathed her last breath and died in my arms as I kneeled on the floor holding her and kissed her as I said goodbye.

I was denied access to my girls when they were upset with me and I could not get to them to try and explain my side of the story..

I have cried to God and begged Him to explain why this was all happening and wondering where the next blow would be coming from.

I have tried to be brave when all I wanted to do was to crawl up and die and I have felt like the biggest failure in the world.

And yet, through all of this character building nightmares I am still breathing , working and am now a single Dad. I am not capable or qualified for this role and act in the best way possible.

I hurt and have friends who hurt.
I sometimes have to live for tomorrow when today becomes too much.

Tonight I must sleep for tomorrow will bring its own challenges.

Good nite all

The Code of Divorce

I think its time to maybe return to the main subject again, a passage of prose from Crosby, Stills and Nash goes as follows; "you, who are on the road, must have a code, a code you can live by . . . " And this got me thinking. There needs to be some sort of unwritten code for Divorce, a list of do's, don'ts and realities, so here's mine.

Firstly Depression! It can be avoided, its not a bout of flatulance that will pass overnight. It is a killer that will suck every ounce of joy from you and make you feel as if death is a pleasant welcome. I have been there, I have held the knife and felt the anxiety in my chest. Get medical help now! This is non-negotiable.

Secondly, Pain! Divorce will feel as if you are having open heart surgery and no-one can feel your pain or hear your screaming. Here's the sad part, there is no instant cure. Alcohol does not help it go away, it simply numbs it till you awaken. The pain is continuous, I have pulled off the road whilst driving and just sobbed like a child, I have driven in traffic weeping and not knowing how I reached my destination. The only cure is time and I am not talking days or months, but years. The sooner you can accept this, the sooner the healing can begin.

Thirdly, Loneliness. Your partner is gone, irrespective of whether you were the guilty partner or not, that part of you is dead and gone. It may take time for that love to die, the memories and anniversaries and Christmas don't make it easier. You long so badly for company that you want someone to be with so badly you will almost consider selling your soul to have someone, anyone. You will be attracted to the opposite sex and some friends will feel threatened even if your advances are innocent and simply an attempt to reach out for a sympathetic ear. Hang in there and be completely honest with yourself and your desires.

Fourthly Your Health! Mentally and physically you need to see a specialist and as soon as possible. I tried coping on 2 hours a night sleep and it almost cost me my job and my life. I wasn't coping at work, I was falling asleep behind the wheel of my car and my mind was playing tricks on me that almost drove me mad. I had a family open their home to me and feed and love me for a couple of weeks till I was able to face life on my own. Go see your General Practitioner and seek a counsellor/psychiatrist/psychologist who can assist you in understanding this nightmare you are facing.

It is not an overnight rendezvous, it is not solved by a pill, it takes time and it will be hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a bullshitter and needs to be avoided.

The good news is that apparently it does get better, it becomes easier and there is most definitley life and abundant life after divorce.

Good Nite all

Life and Memories

What would you do if I sang out of tune

Would you get up and walk out on me?

I have quoted this on so many occasions that it seems to have become a part of my life, I do sing out of tune and man can I sing out of tune well. I have sung in a shower and almost drowned myself, I have gargled with Jack Daniels and lost and have sipped champagne from the lips of a beautiful woman.

Whenever I have found myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me and when I am running on empty, I have wept blood and sweated all along the Watchtower.

At this stage you must be asking what the hell is he trying to say, so let me begin by saying the following, I am not proud of some of the choices I have made and I must answer for them, I have loved and been loved, I have stared into the face of an angel and seen her tears as her guitar gently weeps. I have considered the words of poets when they said, 'If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with' and turned and walked away.

I have crashed vehicles in the town where the streets have no names and have waited for the sunrise with tequila as my only companion, felt my heart stop beating as I held my daughters when they were born and cried as I realised they were really mine and alive. I have held my daughter on two occasions and accepted that it might be last time I would see her alive as she struggled to breathe and was as pale as the desert moon on a winters night.

I have hummed in a cat-scan machine with my eyes closed so I would not panic from claustrophobia and been chased by a tractor while completely sober.

I have told ghost stories around camp fires, cycled on dirt roads so bumpy I could not sit or walk normally for a couple of days.

But all of this I would trade to be with my girls right now, memories are nothing without someone to share it with, one day it shall be different but for now I live for the other week.

Good Night