Holiday Snaps: Alice Springs

 

Holiday Snaps: Marla

 

The Ghan Train

 The Ghan train shakes rattles and rolls north and further north.

 

Through brown paddocks with stubble from a grain crop. Anaemic barbed wire fences create a chessboard of different shades of brown. An irregular  dark shadow from the clouds moves over the chessboard of paddocks.

A meandering line of trees line a dry river bed. A straight avenue of trees lines a road.

 

Houses wrapped in trees appear. Powerlines flow without end. No people walking, wandering or working their tractors. All tractors and machines stand still.

 

Only activity outside the train is a silver stream of cars flowing up or down the highway.

 

Onboard the train is an oasis of retirees, drinking and eating food. The ubiquitous staff are neat, young, fit and healthy looking. Us passengers are older, slower, fatter, greyer. Us passengers have less hair and more money.

We lounge in air-conditioned comfort, divorced and separate from the hot dry dusty desert we peer at. We peer looking for any sign of any activity.

 

The cabins are small. We enter and have to decipher. What does this nob do? This switch works what? How do we turn the lights on?

 

The paddocks are replaced by scrawny, scraggly scrub. Short trees ashamed and apologetic dot the red dust.

The unchanging vistas roll on and on. Recent rain has gone and left a carpet of green grass. 

 

Holiday Snaps: The Ghan Train

Holiday Snaps: Adelaide

 

Chapter 310: I didn’t know I had a scaphoid bone until it broke.

 

I head towards the right side of the court. My opponent hits the ball to where I just came from. I suddenly have to change direction and go back to where I came from.  If I can stretch my arm make it longer I might be able to hit the ball while my legs catch up. My arms move towards where the ball is going. My feet are still going in the opposite direction. My legs go one way, my arms go the other way and I go down.

I fall and land on the court. My knees are covered in clay sand. I wipe my knees. I reassure the others and say: I’m okay. let’s continue.

Four/five hours later I am not okay. Whenever I use my hand it aches. Whenever I forget about it and use it. When I cut bread. When I take the top off the peanut butter jar. When I wash my hands. My hand has become alive. Whenever I move my hand it talks to me. My hand has become a separate being. 

Normally after a shower I dry myself. I pick up a towel. I can’t hold the towel. I need help to dry myself. This is bad.

Next day my hand wakes before me.  It is trying to tell me something. I take my hand to a doctor then a radiologist. They interpret and tell what my hand is telling me. My hand is broken. My hand needs to be strapped. My thumb needs to be keep still. It must not move relative to my hand. When my thumb does what it is told and doesn’t move it is quiet and I forget it.

I need help to get my watch off. My hand has changed me. It has changed my life. It has decided I will be a different person. My hand is telling me I am a different person. My bandaid tells everybody I am a different person.

The next day I visit a physiotherapist and get a cast covering and immobilizing my hand. The cast is solid. Unmissable. I ask the physiotherapist all the important questions about the cast.

The physiotherapist gives me all the important information. He says: Drawing on the cast will not harm it.

Chapter 309: Social tennis

 

I stand and fiddle with my tennis racquet. I wait for people to say: You can serve first. We’ll take this end. I wait for people to nod in agreement and move to their positions. I wait for some people to say good game and for the set to begin.

The ball lands between me and my partner. We both hesitate. Then we both go for it. Then we both laugh and both agree to talk.

Our set finishes. We shake racquets then gravitate towards our bags and begin talking.

I ask one lady about her sons: What are they doing nowadays? Where are they working? Where are they living?

She tells me about her sons. I enjoy listening to tales of their work, their lives and their future.

I ask another lady: How is your week going?

She tells me: Busy week. Had to look after my grandkids. They have been sick.

A man tells me about driving here. About the traffic he encountered. He tells me about his dog. Yesterday he took his dog for a walk and they met a badly behaved owner with his dog.

I see Geoff and his partner. Geoff says to his partner: They are playing social tennis. That means they talk a lot.

When I play tennis I don’t think I abuse, harass or discriminate against anybody.

I am lucky. I used to work as a dentist. Everybody’s teeth are the same. I categorized people by how they managed their teeth. Not their sex, sexuality, race, place of birth, religion, job, wealth. My work has ceased but my habit of not classifying people continues.

When I play social tennis I play with other people. Everybody is unique. Everybody is different.  I don’t think I classify people and then discriminate against them because of the group they belong to.  

But the truth is on the tennis court I do judge people. I look at their tennis style. I notice if their backhand is weaker than their forehand. I notice if they prefer the ball short or deep. I notice if they have a good volley or smash. After looking at my opponent I alter my game. I try and beat them by playing to their weakness.

My aim is to spot a weakness and then attack it. Do they hit the ball in certain ways or to certain spots? I change my game in order to beat their game. One lady often goes short. Hits a very good drop shot. I have to come in. One man hits a very good lob. I need to stand deep at the net. Get ready for his lob. One lady often goes down the side. I need to stand a bit wider.

Geoff you can say I am treating my opponents badly by labelling them and by trying to beat them but he is also trying to beat me. I need them and they need me. We are both aiming to beat each other.

To play tennis where one person has no intention of winning or doesn’t even try to win destroys the game for everybody else. I respect my opponents by trying to beat them. In different ways because they are all different.

Chapter 308: Corona changed our society.

 

Corona has been an unwelcome visitor Corona. It is finally going. We can now do the dishes and talk about tomorrow. 

When Corona was here our society changed. How many of these changes will remain after it goes?

Behaviour

Social distancing. Us humans are social animals. I’m guessing social distancing will go the way of the Tassie Tiger. We enjoy and like being in crowds. A crowded restaurant or pub has an atmosphere or buzz that we enjoy. We feed off the people around us. Empty tables depress us.

Hand washing

Hand washing has become more common. I assume increased hand washing will stay. In the past handwashing after going to the toilet was considered normal. That’s all.  In the future I’m guessing handwashing before eating will be standard. The new normal.

Post Corona I imagine restaurants will provide hand sanitizer or bowls or paper towels to clean our hands when we enter.

Shopping

Shopping has gone on-line. Corona has accelerated the trend in that direction. The advantages of on-line shopping have disseminated.  Shopping to a distant warehouse with postal delivery seems sure to continue. Not only books, clothing but also food and meals.

Garden

During Corona we have also eaten more home-grown food. More herbs or vegetables from our garden. During Corona more people have planted and tended vegetable patches. Will this trend continue. Post Corona will people eat more healthy, organic, seasonal home-grown food? 

Arts

Corona has unleashed local community art. Musicians playing for their neighbours. Friends posting to their own Facebook groups. Often posting funny and creative posts relevant to the local community.  

A deluge of local talent has been exposed and given air. During Corona art has become more local. It has been reflecting what the community is actually thinking and doing. 

Post Corona I imagine less big art events. Less vacuous celebrities famous for being seen.  More local people seeing what other local people can tell them about their community.  More people illuminating their local community to itself.  

Sport

Sport has gone the same way as the arts. Local sport has replaced big events. Playing on the local cricket oval has replaced being one of a crowd watching superstars. 

Post Corona I imagine local community sport staying strong. A game with friends is hard to resist. The celebrities and TV stations associated with big sporting events will remain. They will not admit irrelevance.

Local community

During Corona global Facebook has helped us become more local. Connect with our Neighbours. Connect with people in our apartment. We are suddenly sharing jokes and posts on Facebook with our neighbours.  Global Corona and Facebook have strengthened local communities. Brought people together.

Work

During Corona more people have worked from home. The need for multi-story central offices, morning coffee rituals and transport has shown to be unnecessary. Nobody knew working from home was possible. Now everybody knows it is possible and can see the advantages. In the future more people will combine work and home. 

The status of certain workers will change. On the up are health care workers. We have been reminded about what really matters. The health of everybody in the community.

The status of teachers will go up. Corona has shown that schools are an important part of our communities. Corona has told us that looking after children or a class of children is difficult. Let alone teaching them something.

The status of science will increase. People will listen to real, true facts based on objective studies. The status of vague, nebulous, spiritual feelings will be less.

Politicians  Laws

Corona has resulted in law changes. The laws and rules have been made up as we go. Corona has been a real time experiment involving different countries and new laws. The new laws haven’t fitted correctly. They have all resulted in anomalies, exceptions, unintended consequences and routs.  

Corona has rewarded countries where the  government has monitored and controlled the population. Where decisive politicians have  consulted with experts, passed new laws and inspired people to embrace the new laws.  

Corona has also increased the gap between the IT-connected and IT-unconnected. Not rich and poor. Not males and females. Not indigenous and non-indigenous. Our world has become an ITocracy. The IT connected have booked on-line, educated on-line, shopped on-line, worked from home and lobbied politicians on-line. This trend is unstoppable.

Corona has exposed and shown the whole world countries which are good or bad places to live. Tasmania has emerged near the top but I am a bit biased.

 

Chapter 307: Run the Bridge

A long time ago I went for a run around the block. I enjoyed it. I entered every fun run I could. I joined a running club that did a weekly time trial.

 

I quickly found out my mind couldn’t order and prescribe a certain time. I found out that certain behaviours resulted in better times and certain things resulted in worse times. I found out what made my body functioned better or worse. I found out about myself.

 

Finding out about myself helped when I was not running.

I found out that my  physical ability (how fast I ran) related to my emotional, mental and social health. Stress at work led to a poor run.

I found out that my physical health affected my emotional, mental and social health. The physically fitter I go the better my work went. My  mind relaxed after a good run.

 

I normally run free. Unscripted. Run instinctively. I don’t follow an app or a coach.  I vary speed. Vary where I run. Cross country. Fartlek. When I run I watch birds, plants, wallabies.  I enjoy my run. I never think I am doing this because my app or coach tells me to.

 

I monitor myself. Enjoy the way my muscles change when I push myself. Enjoy the pain in my muscles. Watch the pain.  Stand back from it. I don’t run away from it. I don’t avoid it. I am alive. I feel the sweat on my eyebrows. I wipe it away.

 

Run the Bridge: For the last 20 years I have always aimed to beat my age over ten kays. This year that means 64 minutes.

My added aim is to be faster than last year. Faster than 62 minutes.

 

Four week training program:

Monday: LSD.

Wednesday: Race in TMA.

Saturday: Parkrun time trail.

Other four days: In the morning an easy jog. Junk miles.

In the afternoon do hill sprints. Push myself. Run hard. Not a specify number in a certain time with a specified break.

Daily exercises: Stretching and light weights.

Cross training: Tennis, pickleball, swimming and walking.

Eat healthy.

Rest hard and relax hard. Train my mind.

 

Fluid plan: Drink water before starting. Dispose of plastic bottle ethically.

Drink water at first drink station. 3 kays. Kangaroo Bay.

Drink water at second drink station. 7 kays. Tasman Highway opposite Government House.

 

Race plan: It’s all about the bridge. At 5 kays I will know how I am going. If I am ahead of five kay runners before they start I will be under 30 minutes for 5 kays.  I can then push hard for the finish. If the 5 kay runners start before I reach them then I will need to go faster, push hard down the bridge.

 

Previous races tell me the finish is a tease. Run past the finish line tour Battery Point and then come back to cross the finish line.

 

Race day: Begins with a disastrous night’s sleep.  During the night I contemplate not running. Then I decide to turn up and plod to the finish.

 

Start running. Dodging, swerving and avoiding others. Feels good to help make this crowd. I push hard. A view of the bridge and a glance at my watch tells me I am going slow.

 

Eventually make it to 5 kays. Maybe 32/33 minutes. This is not going to be good time. I feel good. Running well. Running better than I should be.

Running over the bridge. The bridge is covered by a blanket of living, moving runners and walkers. They are all concentrating, focused and pounding the bitumen. I admire the view of the Mountain and feel guilty. I must focus on running.

 

I merge with one of my daughters. We run together. I am so proud of her. Unlike her I am wearing a TMA shirt. Many TMA people see my shirt and shout something positive. They ignore my daughter. My daughter says: You’ve got your own cheer squad. I love my TMA shirt. I love my cheer squad. I become my daughter’s cheer squad.

 

We both sprint for the finish line. I watch the back of her cross the finish line.

 

I discern an idea of my time. I did not run under my age. I have failed. I am hot and tired and grab some water. People congratulate me on my run. I proudly wear my medal. Nobody need know that I failed.

 

After Run the Bridge:

 

I glance around. Thousands of happy sweaty people. We are all wearing identical medals. Some achieved their goal. Some like me failed to run as fast as they hoped. The medals are telling me  everybody is a winner. 

 

My medal tells me I learnt something about myself. I have a tiny bit more evidence that my physical health or how fast I run depends on my systemic health. I ran badly because of my systemic ill-health. The good news is I have medical appointments to manage my medical problems. Next year I will beat my age.

 

Us winners stand around talking; drinking; taking photos. We are a very happy crowd. The organisers are invisible. They have created a delicious, wonderful crowd full of proud, exhausted chatty people.  The organisers have made many of us Hobartians a tiny bit healthier. Physically, socially and emotionally.

Chapter 306: Eddie tells me what to eat

 

Walk across the Brooker, towards a couple of parkrun flags. We become part of a crowd which is rapidly growing in size. Everybody gathers around the race director.

Except for Eddie the magpie. He walks around a grassy area searching, probing, and poking the grass with his beak. He continually nods his head as he looks for food.

Eddie has a few friends. Eddie is not hiding or camouflaged. He is proud of his black and white feathers. Proud the way they highlight him. Make him stand out. He and his friends are happy. Singing and chirping to themselves. I listen. Sounds beautiful.  

I tell Eddie I am here to do parkrun. He laughs and says:  Keep those dogs away from us. 

I say: Don’t complain about us. We are the ones who planted and mowed the grass. You like the area where we have planted grass. You like the way we have watered and mowed it. We are the ones who farmed and grew your food for you.

Eddie probes the grass and pulls up a worm.

Eddie: This will help you run faster. This is mine. You’ve got to get your own.

The parkrun race director does her briefing and  unleashes us.

She says: Go to the start.

The crowd shuffles tentatively towards the start line.

I have to decide where to stand.

My aim is to run with people who push me close to my PB.

I find myself somewhere in the parkrun crowd. I look around me. I have been given these people to start with.  

The race director blows the horn and the front runners explode away. The wave of running runners flows back and very quickly the running peloton is running up the parkrun track.

I run. I sneak a look at the people around me. Should I pass these people or will I struggle to keep up with them.  Perhaps I can forget them and just run.

We approach the path branching off through native bush. A marshal stands and takes photos. Some people wave at the camera. I just run past her.

On the narrow path I settle down. Not a time to pass other runners. A time to look out for walkers, prams and dogs.

Back past the marshal and now a straight run to the finish line.

I run with my arms. I push my arms bigger and faster. Must increase my leg speed. Legs go quicker.

Must breathe bigger. Exhale bigger.

Must concentrate on running faster.

I see the finish line. Now sprint. Think of nothing but running. Think of nothing but striding, breathing and swinging arms. I will catch that person in front of me. Getting closer. Keep on pushing.

Cross the finish line. I get handed a finish token. I look for a person surrounded by people holding similar tokens.

Somebody asks me : How did you go?

I say: The clouds know. They will tell everybody in the world shortly.

Eddie already knows. He tilts his head and says: Not very fast. Didn’t eat a worm.

Chapter 305: Geoff likes to watch and give me advice.

 

The tennis ball heads towards my left. I move my arms and legs and hit  a backhand shot into the net. Geoff the Green Rosella says the bleeding obvious. He says you should move your feet before moving your arm. I nod in agreement. I always seem to know what to do after I should have done it. Geoff just raises his head and says nothing. He is distracted by something more interesting than me. A caterpillar. He eats it. Job done.

 

Geoff is a Green Rosella. Slightly aloof. He likes watching. Hiding in the foliage. Not getting involved. He has splashes of colour. Enough colour to prove it knows how to do colour. His coloured feathers are not flashy or showing off. Red hair band to keep feathers from his eyes.  Most of the feathers help him hide; blend in. Green and black. Help him not be seen. I often don’t know he is watching until suddenly he flies away.

 

His feathers are functional. Help him fly. With his partner. The two of them are always hanging around in the foliage or on the ground.

 

When he is not helping me play better tennis he forages in the trees and shrubs and on the ground for nectar, fruit, berries, seeds and if he is lucky: insects.

He roosts in the tree with his partner. They chatter softly about my lack of footwork.

Geoff is subdued and less colourful than his cousin the Eastern Rosella. The Eastern rosella shows off. Wears bright and gaudy red feathers.

 

I think about my feet. Move my feet; get comfortable and nicely balanced; swing easily and gracefully and hit the ball. Win a few points. Lose a few but who cares. I am moving nicely. Nice and relaxed. Not stressed. The ball is bouncing back and forth across the court. I find the ball coming off my racquet a lot better. It is now going where I envisage.

 

Geoff nods in approval. Then he flies away. Geoff has done his job. He imagines more seeds over that way. Or maybe even an unlucky  caterpillar.