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.

Chapter 304: Triple jump

 

Triple jump = The hop, step and jump = The t-jump. 

 

It consists of one continuous movement which is composed of three distinct jumps.

 

The hop consists of taking off and landing on the same foot.

The step consists of landing on the other foot and then taking off for the jump.

The jump consists of landing anyway you like, but normally on two feet similar to the long jump.

 

A foul jump occurs when over stepping the take-off board; not using correct foot sequence. Scraping the ground with the trailing leg is not a foul.

 

Other rules are similar to the long jump. A legal jump consists of not over stepping the board when taking off.

The take-off board is placed across the runway. The jumper can decide which board to jump from.

 

What are the origins of such an obscure event?

 

In historical records of the ancient Olympics jumps of 15 meters are mentioned.  This led to the conclusion that in the ancient Olympics there was an event that consisted of several continuous jumps.

1896 the first modern Olympic Games in Athens. An event consisting of two hops on the same foot and then a jump.

1900 Olympics. The t-jump event had present day rules. 

1900 and 1904. The standing t-jump was a separate event.  

 

A triple jump was contested in the ancient Irish Games and was possibly an inspiration for the modern version of the t-jump.

The t-jump was retained in modern athletics because the runway and the landing area were similar to the long jump.

 

When attempting the t-jump there are two things I think about:

 

The t-jump should flow subconsciously  and automatically. Hop step and jump. I actually find this not difficult. After a hop a step flows automatically. The way to practice the t-jump is a standing t-jump. Keep on practicing a standing t-jump until it flows subconsciously. A practice standing t-jump can be done virtually anywhere.

 

Take off. As with the long jump the take-off  is critical. Take off depends on the runup. Run as fast as possible. Land take-off foot in right spot. Take off as big as possible.

 

I instinctively pause in my run-up to check position on take-off foot. I instinctively abhor an illegal jump. My run-up must be fast and aggressive. Not apologetic and submissive. No thinking as I run down the track. I need to practice a hard and fast run-up. I need to continually practice running down the track. Seeing where my feet land.

 

I measure out my run-up; mark it out with chalk; do a trial run-up. I then move my starting spot by centimetres and run again. I move it again and jump again. I repeat, repeat and then do it again. I try running without jumping to see where my take-off foot lands.

 

Another thing to practice is my technique.  According to an expert when doing the step I need to wave my leg forward. Increase my step.  I need to think about waving my left leg forward and not about landing it is soon as possible.

Chapter 303: Amongst the native bush are tennis courts

 

I approach a ceaseless flowing torrent of cars. It is dangerous to blithely and merrily jump into this stream of cars. I watch and wait for an empty road. I warily cross as I gaze uproad watching for the next cars to come arrowing down the road.

I breathe deeply. I have made it across. I am now on the Domain. An island of green. An area of native flora and fauna. Everywhere the same tree flowers. The native hopbush  has been flowering this time for thousands of years.  The birds that feed on the nectar have been doing that forever. It is their country.  The light filters down through the trees and surrounds me. In contrast to the uplifting flowers and birds is a dead possum in the gutter. Smells bad. Reminds me that we are intruding in their land and hitting them with our cars.  

Other major cities have an old central area swamped and covered by a new city. New buildings. Not Hobart. Central Hobart has an area of native bush. Native trees. Wallabies, possums and birds.

I approach the tennis courts. Two people loiter, bounce balls, stretch their legs and swing racquets. I am number three. We all look up the hill. peering for number four. Who will it be? We watch the fourth person walk down the hill and enter the tennis courts.

The fourth person starts us dancing, skipping, running, stretching, jumping, grunting, muttering and breathing deeply.  We are unaware of the birds, trees and flowers surrounding us.

We all wear different clothes. Colourful. Flexible. Neat and tidy. Sunglasses, caps. Water bottles wait by our bags.

One lady smashes a volley away. Very pleased.

One ball hits the top of the net, then thinks about which side to fall on. It falls on one side and on the other side are two thankful and gracious people.

Between points we glance up at the clouds surrounding the Mountain. Where is the wind coming from? How strong is it? Is it going to rain?

Our first set finishes with a shaking of racquets then talk. Should we go for revenge or change partners?

10:00 o’clock. Morning tea. Birthday cake. Talk of grandkids. How you playing? A lady stands and reads out the roster after the break. She says who will play with who, against who on each court.

I listen to the roster. I listen for my name and court number. When I arrive at my court I will discover   the others. Every week is different. Every week somebody gets to play against and with me. Somebody different has to think about how to beat me. Where to hit the ball. Deep or short. Fast or slow. High or low. Spinning or not.

I love the idea of playing with anybody. Not only playing with my mates. Accepting everybody and anybody.

Walk back over the Domain. My legs feel heavier than before. I make an effort to lift one leg. And then the other one.

Birds forage on the ground for grass seeds. They glance at me; ignore me and continue eating.

Back over the highway into the mélange of houses. Open my front gate. Home to my place to rest. My refuge.

Time for me to think about tennis. What should I have done today? What can I work on? What can I do to play better next time? Well next time I will…

Chapter 302: Pickleball Serve

 Lately the drop serve has been a popular topic.

The drop serve was bought in to make it easier for a small number of  people. People who only have one fully functioning arm find the normal serve difficult. They find a drop serve much easier.

If you can serve adequately with a normal serve then ignore the drop serve. You do not need to use it or learn how to use it.

The aim of a serve is to start the game. In pickleball the serve rules are designed to eliminate games being dominated by a good serve or good serve and volley. In pickleball the serve should not be an offensive weapon.

 

The  basic rules of a normal serve are:

1              Contact with the ball must be below the waist. The waist is defined as being the navel.

2              When the paddle hits the ball the paddle must moving up.

3              When the ball hits the paddle the paddle should be below the wrist.

4              If ball hits the net play continues. No replay of serve that hits the net. After hitting the net the ball either lands in the service court or is called a fault.

 

Other rules of a normal serve are:

1              Serve to diagonally opposite service court.

2              Serve behind baseline between centre line and sidelines. Behind not touching the baseline.

3              After score is called you have 10 seconds in which to serve.

 

The basic rules of a drop serve are:

1              Release ball or let ball roll off paddle. Don’t throw it up or propel it down. You can let it drop from as high as you can.

2              Hit the ball after it bounces.

3              Ball can bounce anywhere. The ball can bounce twice.

4              Normal service rules don’t apply. Rules such as contact below waist, upward arch, paddle below wrist. You can put different spin on the serve.

5              Feet must be behind baseline.

6              You can alternate serves or change from drop serve to normal serve or vice versa at any time.

7              You can drop the ball for a drop serve. Change your mind. Catch the ball and serve normally.

 

 

Chapter 301: A perfect day

 

The OVA athletic carnival at the Domain on 31^st January.

The weather was perfect. About 20 degrees with a light breeze and no rain.

The handicapping was perfect. In race after race there was blanket finish.

The volunteers were perfect. A lady gave me a top to wear. A man helped me find where to start and how to start.

Six people are perfect. These six people decide to help me run faster. They help me find my physical limit by trying to overtake me. They help me by trying to run faster than me.

I find myself the front marker. I crouch. The gun goes off. I glance around. Everybody else is running. Time for me to run.  I run like I stole something.

I enter the home straight. I can hear noises behind me. I can hear loud breathing and feet clapping the track.  Don’t look around. Go for the finish line. I can see it. The racquet behind me is getting louder.

About ten meters from the finish I get passed.  Sounds like the rest of the army behind me is planning on the same thing. I cross the line and then look round.

The day remains perfect.  I have blithely and without thought entered a couple of carnivals. They are an opportunity to push myself physically. To run as fast as possible. To run in a race with absolutely no idea who is going to win.

The winner will be the one who gets it all together on the day or finds competition brings the best out of them. Maybe the possibility of coming first pushes them and makes them run faster.

This was the last carnival for the season. I will return.

 

 

Chapter 300: 26th January 2021

 What does Australia Day mean to my grandkids?

 

I expect them to grow up in Australia. Their future and Australia’s future will be inextricable linked. What does it mean for them to be an Australian?

 

To see how Australia will flow downstream they need to look upstream. They need to know how we arrived where we are.

 

They need to know Australia’s history.

 

Australian aborigines arrived at least 70,000 years ago. They inhabited the whole continent including Tasmania. Their art, music and traditions are some of the oldest surviving examples in the world.

 

On 26th January 1788 a fleet of British ships arrived at Botany Bay to establish a penal colony. The life of the original colonists was not luxurious. Many convicts were British lower class who stole to survive; were put in chains; herded on ships for a dangerous voyage into the unknown; and did not have any descendants.

 

When the British and the indigenous Australians met a variety of things happened. They cooperated and worked together. They fought violently. There was bravery and selfless behaviour on both sides. But the British were better armed and eventually won. The indigenous Australians lost.

 

Today Australians with an aboriginal heritage are more likely to be in prison. To have worse outcomes in all social indicators. Health. Employment. Education. Life expectancy. Maternal health.

 

As history is written by the winners my education told me the British view of the meeting between two different cultures. I was told the British version. 

 

I was not told the names and the stories of the courageous aborigines who fought to defend their land and their way of life.  What is the story of the aborigines who fought to defend their land? What happened?

 

Many other peoples around the world know a lot more about their history than I do. Many Americans know the names and stories of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. Many know about the battle of Little Bighorn and Custer.

 

Most Kiwis know about the battles between the British and the Maoris. They know that the battles ended with the treaty of Waitangi.   The treaty has an  important place in the history of the country and the ethos of the country. 6th February is Waitangi Day.

 

Many other countries go forward by remembering their painful past. In South Africa a truth and reconciliation commission was established to illuminate through the past. In Auschwitz and Hiroshima there are memorials that remember the past.  To fail to remember buries the victims twice.

 

I need to speak to my grandkids about Australia Day. They need to know the truth about our past. I can’t ignore this day or bypass it They need to know about  16.1.1788 and what followed.

 

Once my grandkids  know Australia’s  history they can then move forward with confidence.

 

We are a country with a fortunate past. We benefited by being part of the British Empire. The connections and institutions we reaped. We benefit from Aboriginal knowledge of the land and its flora and fauna. We benefit today from what refugees and boat people bring.

 

We are a democracy without discrimination. Everybody has equal rights and opportunity but everybody is different and has a different heritage. The heritage may be a boat from Asia; the British diaspora; post WW2 migrants or aboriginal heritage going back thousands of years.   

 

We all may have the same rights but we are not all equal. Some of us need help. Some of us are disabled physically, socially or mentally. Some of us need help in order to live a healthy, happy and productive life.

 

As well as talking to my grandkids about where we came from and where we are going.  I need to warn them.  About identity politics. How it divides us. Ties us to our history. Locks us into permanent thoughts on race, ethnicity, religion, gender or age.

 

My grandkids need to be Australian and global citizens. Citizens who are proud of their unique identity and respect everybody’s else’s individual identity and heritage. I hope they grow up in a world full where everybody has a healthy and happy live.

 

Chapter 299: I write down some of the unwritten rules of pickleball

Once again wandering towards the Pickleball courts my mind is distracted. I cross a road. I avoid all the cars.  My mind thinks about cars.

 

Driving a car is a social activity. How other people drive affects me. If in a car what my car does affects other people. Everybody knows the basic road laws.

 

Pickleball is a social sport. I can’t play pickleball by myself. What other people do affects me. How I behave affects other people.

 

Pickleball is a new game. And the basic rules (written and unwritten) of pickleball are not well known.  My mind is thinking about the unwritten rules of pickleball.

 

The unwritten rules may vary from place to place, person to person and from day to day.

 

 

I will write down some of my unwritten rules of pickleball.

 

1              Everybody calls the ball on their side of the court. All my calls will not be perfect. My aim is for perfect behaviour. Which is accepting all calls without questioning. Not perfect calls.

 

Standing and arguing where the ball has actually landed is not good pickleball. A greater good is served by accepting all calls. Accepting all calls without comment outranks where the ball lands.

 

If ball or serve is out/fault  I call out/fault immediately. I don’t hit the ball back; wait for rally to end and then say the ball was out/fault.

 

2              If I doubt where the ball lands then it is in and play continues.

 

3              Any ball on court means play the point again. Always. Irrespective of the rally.

 

4              The server keeps and says the score before serving.

 

5              I don’t smash the ball directly at my opponent.

 

6              Be polite and nice. Treat other people the way you want to be treated.

 

7              If my opponent hits a good shot then I say good shot. If my opponent hits a bad shot then I say nothing.

 

8              If I hit a good shot then I say nothing. If I hit bad shot then I don’t say what I think.

Chapter 298: Today at pickleball...

 

As I make my way to pickleball I imagine the future.

 

In a short time somebody will hold the short straw. That means they will be my pickleball partner.

Most of my partners want to beat the opposition. They want me to be aggressive and smash the ball away. To play to win.

Most of my partners get frustrated with me.

My aim is not to win. My aim is to have long rallies. My aim is for everybody on the court to enjoy their game of pickleball. I do this by hitting the ball straight back to my opponent. I concentrate on having nice footwork and moving nicely.

Today I expect my partner to volley the ball away aggressively.

I expect my partner to say: Play to win. We have to beat them. You are not even trying.

I will nod and think: I want to have good rallies. I will lob the ball back nice and softly so they can hit it back and then I can hit it back and then we can have a nice long rally.

I expect my partner will then say to me: Play to win. You are not even trying.

I will then say: I am trying.

My partner will then say:  All you are doing is hit the ball straight back to them.

We will then break and a lady drawing up the roster will approach me.

She will say: We have a problem. The people you just played against want to play against your partner. He has inspired them. They think they can beat him. They see his weak point. They want to beat him. They don’t want to beat you.

By now I have arrived at the pickleball courts. That’s it. Fancy them saying they don’t want to play against me. I suddenly am motivated to play aggressively. Put me against anyone you like. I will win. I will volley aggressively. Nothing will stop me. I will do anything I can to win every point I can.  They don’t want to play me. Well I will show them. Today is the day I win every point.

Chapter 297: When I stand on a pickleball court...

I skip sideways and  swing my arm and with timing and balance I hit the ball. A beautiful whack sound and the ball  flies over the net and bounces  on the court.  That felt good. That felt so good I didn’t even think about it. It felt instinctive, natural and relaxed.

It is now the turn of the lady on the other side of the net. She moves smoothly and gracefully. She skips towards the ball swings her arms and hits the ball back towards me. I skip towards the ball swing my arm and hit the ball back over the net. The ball bounces back and forth between us. Connecting and joining us as we dance around the pickleball court.

When I stand on a pickleball court I need other people on the court. Today there are three others on the court. Without them I wouldn’t be able to dance around the court. Without them I wouldn’t be able to stretch, turn and twist. Without them there would be no game. I appreciate them  turning up, picking up a paddle and moving on the court with me.

I love smashing away a volley. A winning shot where all my opponents can do is watch the ball fly past undeterred and unhindered.  

I get the feeling my opponents also love smashing volleys away for winning shots. In this pickleball dance we both have a chance to hit winning  shots. We both smash volleys away.

A volley smashed away results in both of us watching where the ball lands. Then one of us says good shot, mutters silently, trudges after the ball, picks  it up and hits the ball to the server.  The other person ,which is sometimes me, smiles proudly and thinks good shot. 

Chapter 296: I then do something I haven’t practiced.

 

Most days I stand on the starting line I look at other runners and immediately know where I will come and who will come first. Today is different. Bikes and Spikes 800m Masters handicap event.

 

Us Australians have a  tradition of handicap events. We love giving everybody an equal opportunity of winning. We are all mates in this together. And we trust our Government or the handicapper to look after the weak and needy. This Australian characteristic has helped us confront Corona. Trusting authority/handicapper and thinking of the slow runners/ needy.

 

Our most famous horse race, The Melbourne Cup, is a handicap race. Weights are carried in order to even up the field. Handicapping us runners with weights is theoretically possible but we are handicapped by distance. We don’t have less weight to carry or start before the others. Us slower runners have less distance to run. We all start at the same time. The backmarkers then attempt to mow us down  and pass the runners in front of them. If the handicapper has done a perfect job all the runners will finish together for a dramatic photo finish.

 

Our most famous yacht race, The Sydney Hobart yacht race, uses a different handicap system. Each boat is placed in a division. Each division contains boats of potentially similar speed. There are two winners.  The Line Honours Winner receives more publicity than the Overall Winner.

 

The 800m Master’s handicap race is a race with only one winner who is both the line honour winner and the overall winner. A race where I run less than 800m. Behind me are talented runners who will be inspired to run faster by attempting  to run past me.

 

I assume the crowd will support and barrack for the back marker as they try and mow down us front markers. It is dramatic to watch runners over tacking and passing other runners. More dramatic than seeing a front marker run away and lead for the whole race. 

 

I have to adjust mentally. Normally when I run the runner in front of me inspires me. I watch the rhythm of their legs and imagine a string connecting us. I aim to keep that string tight. Not let it go loose.

 

Today I need a different mindset. Today I will be a hunted hound running for my life. Avoiding these pesky hounds napping and barking at my heels.

 

To save energy and go for a big finish is not the way to go. Today I will have to start fast and try to hang on. I will be Herb Elliott. Destroying my competition with my self-confidence. My confidence will take away and diminish their confidence. There is only a finite amount of confidence on the oval and I am going to take it all.  

 

The coming rain overshadows and dominates the athletic carnival. The wind has arrived. The wind will slow down my competitors. They have another thing to worry about.

 

Volunteers help me find my starting spot. I peer towards the starter. He starts everybody at the same time. I start by myself. I am running  by myself against everybody else. Without looking much I can see runners on the other side of the oval. I must sprint to the end of the first lap. 

 

I know have to sprint down to the other end. Legs go faster. Legs go higher. Legs go longer. Go faster. Arms swing bigger. Bigger and bigger. Lungs breathe deeper. Bigger breathes. Bigger and deeper. The hare will speed away from these nasty hounds. The hounds are slow and old and hobbling. The hounds are losing touch.

 

I never look around. That will give them confidence. I am arrogant. I listen to the announcer. He knows my name. The sound is very clear. He tells me the back marker has passed a few people and is running fast. Faster than me. That looks like the finish line. I cross it.

 

I then do something I haven’t practiced. I accept a sash and the winner’s prize. When I arrived, I was amazed at how many volunteers spent so much time helping runners and cyclists. Now I am amazed at how so many of these volunteers congratulate me on winning. New Town Oval is full of people who  deserve a prize.

I am too happy to feel exhausted. Fancy winning. I breathe deeply. I rest my hands on my legs.  I shake hands with the other guys. I love them all. They have all inspired me to run fast. They have all done that by trying to run faster than me.