I done good...

I was sauntering along the Cairns esplanade on my usual 5km, walking and running, thinking about the upcoming trip down to the big smoke for 7 weeks of training for a new job. The training is held smack bang where I used to work 25 odd years ago. I thought back to then. I had no money, a thousand year old, decrepit, beat up car that stalled constantly, a mortgage that I could barely pay, I made my own clothes due to no money and I worked constant overtime to the point that there were nights when I got home that I would have gladly fallen asleep on the carpet to avoid having to walk the extra distance to my bedroom. But that’s life ain’t it? We – you – me – work, sacrifice, save, lose sleep, make do and get by in order to be better 25 years later down the track. I’m proud of what I’ve done and where I'm at. I worked bloody hard for it. While I’m not a great believer in going backwards in life, sometimes it’s good to see where you started just to remind you how far you’ve come.     

Despite the odds, we still believe...

I was doing my normal Sunday morning swim, at the lagoon on the Cairns Esplanade, when this Chinese bridal couple and their photographer came along. It was early morning and they would have been getting some photos done before the general wedding chaos of the day began. I tread water, not wanting to photo bomb the all important pictures, and watched the couple. He was in this silver grey 19^th century type frock coat and he had such a proud, happy look on his face when he looked at his bride. She, in turn, looked quite lovely yet nervous in a strapless gown with a long train that she and the photographer worried a great deal about. When the bride and groom looked at each other with such blatant love in their eyes I thought to myself, yeah, this is what people want to believe in and why despite every setback, failure and facing the odds and still daring to try, that as humans we still believe in love and soul mates and not giving up on finding ‘the one.’ That's nice.

"He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you" ~ Bob Marley

Two things...

I was at the gym this morning running 5km. It was either do it at the gym and sweat a lot or do it along the Cairns Esplanade and sweat a lot. I chose door number one due to air con. Anyway, I ramped up the treadie and ran faster than I ever had before – I feel this pain deeply now. But the point of my story is this – there was this woman on the next treadmill who was running fast as well. However, she was making the most interesting sounds. I swear to god it sounded like she was in the throes of the most amazing sex and on the verge of orgasm. I thought two things – 1. How bizarre. 2. I want that treadmill tomorrow.     

A-mazing...

 There’s this dude that exercises every morning on the Cairns Esplanade. When I say exercise, it’s that he walks around in circles within circles and then detours off to a wonky square before dancing backwards down the boardwalk. The things you see at 5:30am. Anyway, he wears enormous headphones that have to be from the 1970’s and sings at the top of his lungs. Badly. Really, really badly. I know bad singing. I excel at being atrocious at it. But, in saying that he’s really into belting out whatever the hell song he is singing. It could be rock. It may be punk. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was opera on speed. It just could be the alphabet backwards. Anyhow, I can’t fault him – but for the headphones – because I also sound a-mazing when I sing along with Pink.

Actually I expect any day now Pink will call me up as a backing singer.    

It could happen...

Merde! Whatever...

I was sitting on the wall of the Cairns Esplanade, as I do every Sunday morning après run and swim, drinking coffee and watching the tide come in. I was also listening in, quite unashamedly, on a conversation between two French tourists. From what I could work out, from my high school French, it was all about another woman and a man and they were pretty pissed off at her because he shouldn’t be seeing her. I suspect he was supposed to be with one of the other woman. The thing that fascinated me about their convo was the word ‘whatever’ was sprinkled liberally among the flying French words.

Elle est moche. Je ne vois pas pourquoi il aime sa mais whatever.

Il peut avoir. Whatever. Eiffel Tower. Sacre Blue. 

Pierre veut simplement le sexe – vol au vent! Lacoste. Peu!

Whatever! Il est un cochon! Me donner gateau! Whatever. Croissant! Éclair! Merde!

J'espère que sa balle tomber! Whatever. Poisson!    

Whatever! J'ai besoin de café avec mon gâteau!

Me donner vin! Patisserie!!! Arc de Triomphe! 

Merde! Whatever! Pompadour!  

Pretty gifts...

As usual, I was out attempting to be all healthy and fit like running along the Cairns Esplanade this morning. As I ran along, this really muscular, runner-type bloke, no shirt, just wearing running shorts and track shoes came level with me and smiled and said ‘Hello, How are you?’ My response was ‘Sweaty but not dead.’ He jogged with me for a while then smiled again, said ‘see ya’ and he shot off. See how much fun the universal is? It’s sends you pretty gods when you least expect it.  And while how someone looks is not important to me, it was nice to have a pretty gift for a moment.

I run. I think. I am....

So, I’ve been doing a fair bit of running of late in the name of fitness and reasonable insanity. I don't care for running but it’s actually quite a good time to think about stuff. I don’t need iPods or whatever people have shoved in their ears. I actually like to be aware of my surroundings and who’s doing what in the half dark around me so I can act accordingly- and I like to think. A lot. I think about where I am in my life, what I want, what I don’t want, what I can never have and need to build a bridge to get over and how do I shove the ‘what I wants’ into my life as a reality. I plan. I scheme. I pound away down the Cairns Esplanade on my 5km run – which is the same as my jog and my sprint -thinking, thinking, thinking. Money? I want. Fame? Nope. Love? Can’t have. Smaller arse? Doable. Where to go on my next trip? Anywhere. Where will the chooks have laid the eggs today? Who knows. Run 10kms? Oh get real, lovey. Coffee after this? Oh fuck yes.

I don’t believe we think enough. We’ve been dumbed down by the media and apps that everyone must have to be like everyone else. I’m not everyone. I’m unique. I run. I think. I am. I will be. 

So tell me what you want what you really, really want…

So, I was running along the Cairns Esplanade this morning at god-awful 5:30am, nodding and hello-ing the usual crew of walkers and runners who are all up and about cursing the need to be fit, when I saw a group of shadowy people ahead of me. Now, I’m not a scared person by nature but neither am I about to thrust myself into trouble in the half dark. I kept up a steady pace as I ran towards them, sussing them out. As I came closer I heard loud voices, saw people pushing each other and jumping on and off skateboards. Right. Possible trouble I thought until I heard - “…So, tell me what you want what you really, really want…”

Hmmm…urban thugs cranking out the Spice Girls. I ran closer. “If you wanna be my lover...” Yes, scary, scary stuff. I ran up to them. A couple of young blokes said ‘good morning’ as they moved off the pavement to let me through. One warned me to watch out for a skateboard nowhere near me. I said ‘no worries’ and ‘thanks’. As I ran on further I heard a young woman singing along with - “Make it last forever, friendship never ends…”

Spice Girls. Crank it up and have a good time.

“I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really really really wanna zigazig ha”

Note to self...

I was doing my usual Sunday morning run along the Cairns Esplanade, nodding and hello-ing the usual people and I passed this woman. I always make a point of saying hello to her. She never says hello back. She looks straight ahead like she is totally focused on something. She’s painfully, to my mind unhealthily, stick thin. I’m guessing she’s anorexic. I don’t know. As she runs past, she worries me. A lot. When I see her, I think about how we do a lot of crazy, questionable and hurtful stuff to ourselves in the supposed name of beauty and wanting to fit in and how our mind is our best weapon but also our worst enemy. How do you control that? Fix it? Is self belief enough? Do you stop reading about who and what is perceived as supposedly beautiful so you don’t measure yourself by that?  Too fat? Too thin? Seriously, when you think about it, who made up the rules that have been driving women crazily obsessing for centuries?  When will we allow ourselves to make our own rules and stick by them?

As for the woman? I’ll still keep saying hello to her. Maybe one day she’ll say it back. Maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll want to chat to the crazy haired, sweaty woman who drives her mad every Sunday morning by saying hello. I’m always up for a chat about stuff. 

Girly girl...

So, I was running along the Cairns Esplanade last Friday for Boot camp. Boot camp means running, sweating, pain and swearing a lot. The last three I do really well. Anyway, our perennially perky, super fit trainer ran a bit with me and she was impressed I was light on my feet – but apparently I run strangely. Of course I do. Doing it normally would not be me.  I’m strange. Peculiar. Different. Anyway, I listened to what she said and took her advice on board because she’s the expert, I respect her words and I'm always determined to do better.

Today at the gym I made a concerted effort to run less strangely. It was hard. Very hard. It then it occurred to me, after much looking at the way I ran in the mirror and almost falling over, that was the way I was supposed to run. I run like a girl. I'm a girly, girl. I’m damn proud of it. Try and keep up with me will ya?  

The man of mystery...

As I was swimming, I was watching this guy who always is in the same place every Sunday at the lagoon on the Cairns Esplanade. He never swims.  He is always bare-chested. He’s extremely muscular. He sits on his haunches and watches people. He rarely moves. He just sits and watches.

As I pass by, to do my swim, I always say hello. He is always silent. But I say it anyway. Maybe it’s perversity on my part. Maybe it’s human nature to acknowledge others.

Today, as I passed by splendid in my lycra togs, I said hello and I saw the faintest smile from him in response. I smiled back. I always wear men down eventually.   

Life...throw the dice...

One of the few really good decisions I made in my life was to quit my job in Brisbane and hit the road to Cairns two and a bit years ago. I had no job in Cairns to go to, no home and I only knew a couple of people.

This morning, as I ran along the Cairns Esplanade, I stopped in my tracks and took a picture of the sunrise. No decision could have been any better.

Life – throw the dice. Take a risk. I bet it’ll be worth it.  

The kiss...

I was running along the Cairns Escapade at about 6:30am, hot, sweaty and wondering why I kept putting myself through this torture when I saw this man pull a woman into his arms and kiss her so passionately that I almost stumbled at the sheer, hungry beauty of it. How do you write something so intense and raw with need like that? I've never read a writer that could. How does a kiss like that feel? Hot? Crazy?Like something you never want to stop? Are you so lost in the moment that you don't care what's going on around you because nothing else matters but that kiss? I was quite overcome just watching it. 

As I continued running along, still hot and sweaty, I was mesmerized by the moment but realistic enough to know that kisses like that are not for everyone – they should be but they’re not.   

Lucky woman…lucky man…sweaty Amarinda…

Post-eclipse...

So I eclipsed on the Cairns Esplanade with hundreds of other people. Yes, it was cloudy. But, just when we needed the clouds to part, they did. People cheered and clapped and with special eclipse goggles on we viewed the phenomena. When it when dark we all oohed and aahed at the stillness. Later I stood at the gym and watched as the moon finally passed over the sun.

The thing I got out of the eclipse? That as jaded, world weary and as commercially orientated/greedy as we are, nature still has the power to bring us to a standstill in wonder and mutual appreciation. We need to be reminded of that more often.

Pre-eclipse...

So, I went for my usual 2.5km run before boot camp this morning, along the Cairns Esplanade. The Solar Eclipse is on tomorrow and Cairns, Far North Queensland – FNQ – is one of the best places to see it as it will be the total eclipse. This morning, as I ran, I noticed something different. Sure there were the normal tourists wandering along the Esplanade looking at the beach and scoping out the ocean, no doubt hoping for the odd croc to wander out looking for breakfast – but there were other people – very pale skinned people dressed in khaki and beige and carrying whiz bang cameras and laptops and talking about the angle of the sun and the distance from here to there and multiplying that by their ages and dividing by their shoe sizes then subtracting their waist measurements. They were quite fascinating to watch and while I don’t agree with stereotyping people, they were scarily the archetypal nerds.

What will tomorrow bring? The end of the world? Nah. We need Mothra to turn up for that. Rain? Probably. It is the wet season. Bugger of a time for Mother Nature to shock and awe us but you get that.    

Walk a mile…

 

I had a moment at work yesterday when the Business Manager said to me, as I was busy changing my new year’s hotel booking on the Cairns Esplanade – I figured I was worth a fantastic view of the fireworks over the Coral Sea and Trinity Bay and doing all this at work made sense because I had access to my bookers account, where I get rewards for booking travel and discounts and basically because I have too many other important things to do at home…you see the point don’t you? Of course you do. Anyway, so the manager person, who is going to get his bell to ring to generate ‘excitement’ in the office but little does he know it’s tiny because he’s a tight wad and he went for the cheapest bell, which was also the smallest  - tiny in fact – and I could have pointed that out to him but I didn’t want to because I want to see the “excitement” in his face  when the eeny, weeny, nimiscule bell turns up…where was I? Oh yes, the point is…he said to me ‘we need to get the cleaner to do all this extra work  while she’s here.’ I like the cleaner. She’s a battler and the salt of the earth and there’s no bloody way I would make her work extra without the extra dosh (money). Anyway, I spoke to her agency and explained what bell ringer boy wanted and they named an exceptionally reasonable price. I told Quasimodo (bell ringer boy) and he arced up (stamped his feet and pouted) because he is, as stated, a tight wad. He insisted she do it for nothing. Not on my watch.  

Here’s the thing with a lot of white collar workers – they have no concept of the wages and conditions of blue collar workers because they’ve never had to put themselves in a place where they have lesser paying job, that’s not glamorous, just to pay the rent and in many cases barely feed themselves. I say walk a mile in someone else’s shoes and then decide if you would do even more for even less.

Frigging dainty I am….

So, it’s winter and while it doesn’t get ultra cold in tropical Cairns - though it was cool this morning and that may have been me whining on the Cairns Esplanade at 5:30am dressed in my running clothes contemplating high tailing it back to the car before anyone saw me - winter means anything I’ve broken in my life – thumbs, ankles, toes – randomly begins to ache. Yeah, you know what I mean. Lead an adventurous yet clumsy life and things happen to you. This winter, my ankle is aching. I went to the chemist to buy an elasticized ankle brace for it. The sales assistant asked what size. I said fat or chunky or maybe a hefty would do. She looked down at my ankle and said ‘you’re a small.’ Now, I’ve never been called ‘small’ in my life. Anyway, I put on the strapping and it was the perfect fit. Think Cinderella and the glass slipper except this was tape and stretchy stuff and frankly I would not be putting my foot in any glass slipper to try it on after god knows who had and why can't Prince-so-call-Charming remember who it belonged to. Men sometimes...but I digress...call me fatso? I think not. I have dainty ankles and I can kick arse from here to billy-o with them. Yep, that’s me. I’m frigging dainty. I have the strapping to prove it.

So there we all were. Ten of us. On the Cairns Esplanade. Dressed in exercise clothes. Lying on our backs, legs up in the air – wide open - and our hands on the inside of our thighs pulling them further apart, laughing hysterically as we did it. Those who passed us looked at least three times to make sure they were seeing what they were seeing. I heard a dim echo of my mother’s voice from years ago when I was just a little girl of 4 or 5. ‘Sit with your legs closed. You’re a lady.’ Of course Mum was right. You have to learn stuff like that so when you get older you can lie on your back with your legs wide open, laughing your arse off and thinking ‘damn it’s good to be a lady.’

Not too shabby…

So I was a boot camp this morning and we were all lying on the grass at the Cairns Esplanade with our legs in the air, stretching calf muscles, hamstrings and doing leg things that were torturing our abs. Anyway, in between sweating and grunting, I looked up at my lycra covered legs and I thought to myself, ‘you know, you’ve got good, straight pins for a chunky gal.’ I was quiet impressed with myself as I had never considered my legs before. They look pretty good at that angle. I must consider viewing the world like that more often. See? In the midst of pain and sweat there’s always a bright side.

Peace...

I went for an early morning swim at the lagoon on the Cairns Esplanade then followed this with coffee, sitting on the wall watching the tide come in. It was overcast, humid but peaceful. So bloody peaceful. I thought once more how much my life has changed since I packed up everything I owned, chucked in my job and headed off to a new life. There is a measure of peace I hadn't ever imagined I would have. I owe nothing to no one and I answer only to myself. That’s priceless.

People are always moaning about how they’re "not lucky" and that others are. I say bollocks. Luck and peace is yours if you have the guts to take a chance. Stop whining. Start taking chances. You’re in charge of your own destiny. Get out there and take the risk.