Some events in our lives really give us pause for thought and we stop the world and get off for a while to reflect and re calibrate. Babies born, parents passing, moving house, kids fleeing the next, and….big birthdays. In 2 days I turn 50. FIFTY!
I have been very introspective about this massive milestone birthday and what it means. If I am really fortunate, I will live another 40 years. The last 10 of them no doubt rather frail when I am in my 80s living in my beach house with my handsome young companion who is employed to cook delicious dinners and put up my brollie & beach chair and drive me around.
So in reality I have 10 really active years when I can continue to hike and run and bike and swim and kayak and do all the things that brings me joy. Then I hit 60 and I imagine I would do less jumpy shots and potentially wind down. At 70 I am unlikely to ride the Argus or run a marathon or do a triathlon. Basically time is running out!
My forties have been phenomenal and I have squeezed the life and love and joy out of every moment. My thirties were largely dedicated to raising my children and at that age, their demands left little time for me to do too much else. I learned to surf and I founded my NGO Bosom Buddies now Mama Themba but mostly I mothered 3 young kids.
Then I hit 40 and Daniel was 15, Rebeka was 9 and Sofia was 7. I had more time. At 41 the shit hit the proverbial fan when Singapore got cancelled 21 days before our big move and depression kicked in. After almost drowning for several months I went to see a psychologist and psychiatrist and went on meds and ironically fucked up my life further after a motor neurological reaction to my anti-depressant. I now had Dystonia along with the depression I still battle my dystonia and the painful speech that accompanies it but the depression was left behind.
After my craniotomy in 2013 and 100% recovery I was ready to grab life by the balls. I landed up pushing hard and everything was full on. I did an open water swim. I started running. And then I decided to do a triathlon. And a longer one. And eventually a few Ironman70.3s. I cycles the Argus, very slowly but I finished. I ran my 1st marathon. We started camping and I LOVED it. I went back to uni and finished my degree 6 years later. I travelled and mothered my kids. Natey died and broke my heart. Pops died and it broke a little more. I started working. I got my brave on and started my career. Two of my 3 kids moved out of home. I sold my house and moved. A LOT happened in my forties and I put masses of pressure on myself.
I have somehow got myself in a position where I am doing very little exercise. I was doing a short 5km run in the vineyards and thinking about my forties and being ultrafit and what my 50s held for me. And then I decided, NO MORE PRESSURE. I am giving myself a break. I don’t have to train 6 days a week. I don’t have to cycle 100kms or run till I hurt. I have loved my forties but I placed insane amounts of pressure on myself. I am not sure why? What was I trying to prove and to whom? Was it my ego? I wanted to graduate cum laude. I had to work so hard to do that while still raising my kids. And for what really? Ironman 70.3? Yes it was fun but all those brick sessions and hours training? Being so skinny and exhausted half the time. I am done trying so hard and pushing myself continuously. I am backing off. I think having dystonia was incredibly tough so training so hard meant pain I could control. The pain from my dystonia is forever. It is better on some days and really awful on others. But running a tough race that hurts? I knew it would stop soon and I would have my medal and the pain would be over.
I know my work is my new arena of pressure. That is staying. The stakes are too high. Getting the kids into school became all And just when I think it’s all done new kids arrive and schools are full and they don’t have paperwork and I have to push again. The intensity of my work is extreme and I haven’t figured out the balance yet. Darn, I think I might have replaced my exercise addiction with work? My medals have been replaced with a client using less drugs or getting clean. Having kids who were once on the street in schools. Hugs and love from the kids every day. Connecting with and loving on my clients. It’s draining but it’s very rewarding too.
My latest passion.
This is a rambly post and in writing it I have realized maybe I haven’t morphed into the new chilled me I want to be. Damn! Ok so my fifties are bound to be action packed too. Just different action I guess and a smaller ego. Bring it on, I am ready and excited!
