2010 races
It's never a great time to train for a marathon. Stuff like work always seems to get in the way. However, I've signed up for the Gold Coast marathon on July 4 so I need to try to train! (28K yesterday was good. But it still feels like I'm getting ready for a half not a full marathon...)My goal for 2010 is to race all the main distances from the 5K to an ultra. I will attempt at least one:55k ultra (ok...done this already in April. Absolutely zero desire to do another ultra in 2010!)42.2k marathon (Gold Coast, as mentioned, in July. Maybe Singapore too?)21.1k half marathon (Siem Reap, Cambodia or Chiang Mai, Thailand. December. Going for a sub 1:40.)10k (Love this distance. Hope to race one in Australia in June.)5k (I will probably run this distance in Pursat, Cambodia in November.)Some of my friends have just started running in preparation for the November-December races in Cambodia too. Great to have some friends to run with in some of these events!
life on the road
I feel like I'm living Jack Kerouac's Life On The Road.... the famous bit that goes: because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes, "Awww!" In 10 days I've been from Poipet to Siem Reap to Kampong Cham and back to Siem Reap. From Siem Reap I went to Phnom Penh, Poipet and did the return trip to Phnom Penh again. I've borrowed an old guesthouse bicycle and a near-new moto to get around. I've shared taxis and local buses. People have said: You must enjoy traveling. Not really. But I did spend eight hours on the road just to see Malis and Duc for an hour and a half on their wedding day. And I've been twice to Phnom Penh because LB's patient had a major operation and wanted me to be there. My time on the road wasn't hard or miserable. There were some early morning starts when I planned the day over a large iced latte at Caltex. There were snacks on the road; sour mango with salt and chili, crickets, ice cream. Simple meals like the time we sat on LB's kitchen floor eating chicken and rice. It was an adventure. I ran eight floors up on the treadmill in Phnom Penh and watched a gecko negotiate a path across the outside of the window with ease. I saw small miracles... not quite water into wine... but local beer mixed with so much ice that one can of larger turns into three and a very small amount of alcohol lasts the whole night. Coming home for a few days I tried to respond to the call of the broken washing machine and the broken internet. I paid bills, swept the floor, took the garbage out. The fabulous roman candle burned right out and I spent a couple of days grumpy with a fever and a cough. Sunday night I got up again, went for a run and packed my bags for another 1-day road trip. Not just for the sake of it but because someone asked and I was able to say yes. I guess that's where the madness of life on this road actually means something; being willing to let other people's needs interrupt... especially when those people are sick, poor, scared.
What Do You Want?
A boy of ten years old stood before me where the bus stopped and the row of sellers started. I asked, "What do you want?" He gripped a few small notes so I guessed his answer was, "money". But the boy didn't answer.
I tried again, "What do you want?" No reply.
Maybe if I asked a different question. "Have you eaten yet?". He said, "No".
I asked, "What do you want to eat?". He was still looking at me, not at the food. I made some suggesstions, "A hard boiled egg? Fruit? Cake?" There was another long pause, but this time I could see his eyes scanning the stalls. Finally, he said, "I want crickets." Deep fried. Salty with soy sauce. Crunchy and protein-rich.
Today I bought the kid a scoop of crickets. (And the seller let me sample a couple for free.)
more pics
I received a race report, photos and a printed certificate from the 55K ultra marathon.... all posted to my Phnom Penh PO Box. Nice : )
the least say "at least"...
I wasn't sure that I was even going to meet them.
Yesterday at 3pm I was waiting at a Bangkok skytrain exit for T&A. They're from the US, now living and working in Thailand. One of their projects focuses on children and families living on the streets of Bangkok. T&A have discovered, however, that some of the people they meet don't speak much Thai. It's not surprising. Almost half of the kids on the streets in Bangkok are Cambodian. With this in mind, a mutual friend put us in touch and I'd arranged by email to meet them and to try to find a Cambodian family they have been visiting. I called several times yesterday and left text messages to try to confirm out meeting. No replies. So I stood, wearing jeans and an Angkor Wat T-shirt for easy identification, feeling like and idiot for wasting a day... Reality check: even if A did show, we were looking for one woman and her kids in a city of 9 million people. Great.
Just at that moment, A introduced herself.
A minute later, we were walking down the steps of the skytrain exit and saw a little girl curled up on the bottom step, sleeping in the sunshine with a begging cup in front of her. A said, "oh, here's the daughter..." Just a couple of meters ahead, mum sat on her rubber flip flops with a baby in her arms and another begging cup in front of them. We crouched on the footpath and started talking. The simplest questions couldn't help but be met with painful replies. Where do you stay these days? At the park or under the bridge. How long have you been here? More than 2 years. Did you get rained on in the storm last night? Yes.
Why is B living in the park with her 8-year-old son, her 5-year-old daughter and baby girl? Because in Cambodia she's landless, homeless and when she tries to beg her children starve. B said at least when she begs in Bangkok her children can eat. She lives for the "at least". When she's robbed "at least" she has a chance to earn back some coin. When her daughter was kidnapped "at least" she was found again.
I had coffee with A and learned more about B's story. B often prays to Jesus to protect her children. One time she'd given up home and planned to kill herself. But Jesus came to her in a dream and said, "Don't do it. Your children need you." B listened to the voice and has persevered ever since. (Why should it surprise me that Jesus seems to so easily converse with the poor, visit them in their desperation, give them a word of strength?)
I'd like for Jesus to speak again, "Go back to Cambodia. Let one of the thousands of NGOs there give you shelter. Let you kids have a chance to go to school." But I'm not the one setting the agenda here...I doubted we were even going to see these guys. But yesterday we nearly stepped over child number two on the steps of the train station. Weird. Still, even though I'm not the one in control, my prayer is that B and her children will find something better than their vulnerable, fearful, tear-soaked "at least" living. I will let you know.
