Thursday, 25 September 2014

8 Things I'll (Hopefully) Never Do Again

It’s been some time since I’ve written anything.

And to be honest, I feel pretty empty when I don’t have the time, energy or motivation to put words onto sheets of paper.

It’s been a mightily taxing week – a promotion at work brought with it new, and exciting challenges. But I almost forgot that the job I have, while important, isn’t as crucial as so many other aspects of my life.

A wonderful evening with family a few nights ago was just the ‘centering’ I needed after a whirlwind couple of days, and it got me thinking – one of the ultimate blessings that accompany growing older is being able to make better decisions based on past mistakes.

I’ve read a ton of quotes along the lines of ‘mistakes are building blocks to success’ blah blah blah. They annoyed me to no end because, for the most part, mistakes felt like nothing more than mistakes – they were stupid, unnecessary, misguided and put me several steps back from the point I had gotten to. Basically, I saw no benefit in them.

But more and more, I am realizing that these mistakes and/or periods of misguided lifestyles and decision-making are prepping all of us for a much happier future. It sucks significantly that it takes years of trial and error to figure it all out, and I know I have many more mistakes to make, but I believe the end result will make for a happier ME.

Here are eight daft things I’ll hopefully never do again:



WAIT… FOR MY DEEPEST DESIRES TO JUST FALL INTO PLACE

It simply doesn’t happen. You don’t just end up in your own apartment, find yourself in a foreign country or cruise around town in the type of car you’ve always admired. You actually need to throw caution (and depressingly, some money) to the wind and make it happen.

EAT… A MCDONALD’S BEEF BURGER

The double quarter pounder used to be my go-to meal on the way home from a club. Then, suddenly, one day I realised it was revolting: this weird juice bursts out of it when you bite it, the cheese is an abnormally rich layer of yellow plastic and Jamie Oliver showed us how the thing is made.

(It also helps that most of the time, the thought of clubbing leaves me feeling bilious, eliminating the need for these late-night binges.)

WASTE… HOURS OF MY LIFE IN TRAFFIC



I genuinely feel like I’ve been a much happier, healthier person since I moved out of home, not because I’ve been stuffing my face with carrots and cauliflower, but because I no longer spend two hours of my day in a car. Yes, it can be very problematic or even impossible for a family to move to an area close enough to work, where traffic would be minimal. But if you can do it, don’t hesitate – your body and mind will be ever so grateful.

FORGET… TO BACK UP THE DATA ON MY LAPTOP

One would think I’d have learnt my lesson when my laptop crashed about four years ago. But it took a second crash for me to take the time out to back up my data.

It’s kind of sad that our emotions can be so immeasurably affected by a non-functioning, non-living concoction of plastic and metal, but that’s the way it is in 2014 and the best thing we can all do is prepare for the worst.

NEGLECT… MY HEALTH

I once read somewhere that “youth is wasted on the youth” and it’s equally true when it comes to the state of our bodies. There we are, at 19 or 20, snacking on fried chicken at 3am after a hard night of partying (i.e. drinking) – exercise only comes in the form of running to a lecture that we’re late for and getting enough sleep is way down on the list of priorities.

It’s profound to see the changed perspective when it comes to my health and those of my peers, now that 30 is within sight for us. But often, we’re a bit too late; years of neglect leaves many of us looking and feeling sluggish and with all kinds of health issues, like digestive disorders. These don’t occur by chance – they’re the result of youthful ignorance.

Today, I am two months into a type of fitness class that I would have scoffed at just a year ago, and I actually spend money on vegetables now.

I still have a long way to go before I can call myself ‘healthy’ with complete confidence, but I’ve started the process of enhanced consciousness and once you do, the improvements are easy to see and feel.

TRY… TO KEEP A DIARY

I always admire the people who walk around with their leather-bound diaries and Parker Pens, ready to jot down anything important whenever it’s required – it communicates organisation, class and authenticity.
But for someone that enjoys writing, I am completely incapable of keeping a diary. The first day always goes well… until I misplace my pen, forget the diary on the kitchen counter or keep it with me and forget that the thing exists in the first place.

I blame the digital world. Between emails, inbox messages, cell phone reminders and the fuzzy mental notes blowing around in my head, a diary is just too methodical.

ALLOW… MYSELF TO BE WALKED OVER BY LOUDER, BIGGER, BRASHER PEOPLE

I did this throughout school, pretty much. And why wouldn’t I? After all, standing up to people who took joy out of exploiting my smaller frame and milder demeanour would likely only have resulted in me being beaten up. What’s more maddening is that I continued to allow this to happen for some time after high school.

While I still wouldn’t initiate anything resembling a physical fight right now (who the hell has time for that, seriously?), the days of anyone speaking down to me are long gone. Unfortunately for them, I respect myself too much and know too much about the world to allow that to happen. Whether inside or outside of a professional environment, it’s unbelievably rewarding to find that fewer and fewer people are intimidating to me.

FORGET… TO TAKE THINGS ONE DAY AT A TIME



#1DayAtATime – it’s a little chant I carry around in my head with me every day as of a week or two ago. It’s given me strength and motivated me to do better. We simply can’t live in the future and obsess over what we need to do within a month or a year. That is a crazy, toxic way to live.

What we can and must do is make the most of each day. The reason we need sleep after about sixteen hours of waking up is because it is the natural cycle of our physical bodies – likewise, our minds can’t be expected to deal with the burdens of months of to-do lists. By all means, throw yourself into a new day 100%, but resist the temptation to group all your tasks as an encyclopaedia-sized list which must be conquered NOW! Guess what? You can’t finish that entire jar of Yum-Yum ultra creamy peanut butter by dumping it onto a single slice of bread. You will most certainly vomit. But, give yourself a few weeks, spread it all out a bit more evenly, and it will be done.



That’s about it for tonight’s tirade. Goodness knows how much longer this list is going to get in the future – but the longer it is, the easier the path to sustained happiness will be.


Tuesday, 2 September 2014

Down, Out and Grateful


It all always begins with a sore throat...

24 hours ago, I told myself I’d simply wake up and that scratchy feeling would be gone. It hadn’t, and 24 hours later, I’ve got a full-blown cold (sneezing fits, coughing fits that attempt to dislodge major internal organs, general malaise and the occasional need to fight back tears) - just make sure you call it a ‘cold’ and not ‘the flu’. The latter is apparently far more serious of a condition and I’ve previously been yelled at for dramatically promoting a regular cold to a flu.

We all need to get sick a certain number of times within a 36-month span. Not only are there precious sick leave days to make use of, but there’s also the more significant reminder that our greatest asset is our health, and when it is taken away from us, the effects are rather disconcerting.

Whenever I get a cold, I am reminded of previous times I’ve been ill and what a massive relief it was to recover. Back in the summer of 2000 (just days after I finished primary school), I developed the mumps. My siblings were still studying/working and my parents were also yet to go on leave, so I was left to fend for myself at home. These were some of the most miserable days of my life.
I vividly (or not so vividly…) remember lying on the couch, staring at a light switch on the wall, and trying to keep it in focus – unfortunately, my head was swimming to such an extent that this was impossible.
I also remember making a cup of tea in several stages on one of these days. Filling up the kettle required putting my head down for a few minutes, as did opening the cupboard to grab a cup, as did brewing a teabag. Then again, I’m not sure why I made tea in the first place because moving any part of my mouth resulted in the most unbearable pain. There was also the trip to the doctor for my diagnosis before I knew for sure what was wrong – my dad virtually carried me into and out of the waiting room.

Those three weeks of being ill with the mumps and recovering just in time for Christmas lunch (thank heavens) were certainly some of my worst, but close behind are the stomach bugs that followed a few years after that. Is there anything quite as debilitating than the feeling of your intestines being tied tightly together into the most impossible knot? Not really.
One night, after refusing to acknowledge that at some point I would have to throw up, I finally attempted the 3m walk to the bathroom. I didn’t make it, and the passage outside my bedroom quickly filled up with about a quarter of my total body weight.

Yet, there’s something distinctly humbling about being down and out for a couple of days or weeks. It’s a reminder to not take for granted the gift of our good health. It’s a reminder to care for our bodies. It’s the realisation that all the motivation and power of mind in the world can’t overcome the limitations of an incapacitated body.
I don’t think any of us has woken up on that first, beautiful morning following a cold/flu without a renewed vigour to take on the day, go for a run, or actually savour the pasta that had hours earlier tasted like cardboard.


I don’t think that day is going to be tomorrow for me, but when it comes, I’ll be sure to take advantage of and appreciate my greatest asset – my generally good health.

The ability to run up and down a flight of stairs.

The energy to sit at my desk for eight hours and work.

The strength to take care of myself and my home unaided.

So Universe, if I promise to be more grateful, more often throughout the year, can we skip this cold/flu thing as a means to very effectively prove your point? Please? Okay. Thanks.


Wednesday, 27 August 2014

5 Wildly Ego-Boosting Shots In Tennis

I’ve always viewed tennis as one of the most self-gratifying - even mildly arrogant - sports out there.

Much of it comes down to the way the sport is set up – it’s an individual sport, spectators need to remain silent and stifle that hayfever-induced sneeze while you do your thing, your name is emblazoned across a billboard-sized screen (on the pro tour, of course) and there are more than enough opportunities to throw daggers at your opponent with the knowledge that all they can really do is stay on their side of the net and deal with it.

But more than all of these things, tennis on the pro tour and at club level is hugely gratifying because you only really have yourself to thank and to praise for those paranormal shots you’ll no doubt execute over the course of a match. Shots that leave your opponents well and truly incensed. Shots that send you walking back to the service line with just a little bit more swag than you had a few seconds earlier.

These are the most satisfying shots to hit in the sport of tennis:


THE ACE

I have a very reliable service: reliably in the confines of that little block and reliably S-L-O-W. This means that I hit about three aces per year, and all of them take me by as much surprise as my opponent. Still, there is a ton of confidence to be gained by striking an ace.
By hitting it, you’ve expelled barely any energy and bagged yourself a point. Plus, mentally, your opponent has lost a point without having had a sniff at getting into it at all. If every ace was followed by the expletive ‘BOOOM’, I don’t think anyone would argue with it.

In this example, Serena Williams was down 1-2 in the final set of the 2012 Wimbledon final. She then hit four consecutive aces to level the set at 2-2 and after that, never lost another game:



THE RETURN WINNER

In tennis, it’s generally accepted that the server - by virtue of starting the point - has the upper hand. If you put in a good serve, you’re likely to have control of the point from the get-go.
The return winner is therefore extremely demoralizing to the server. A single, slick movement from their opponent has wiped out their alleged upper hand. For the returner, seeing your opponent still in recovery from his or her service motion as your winner zips past them is reason enough to hop and skip your way to the other side of the court to try the same thing all over again (although, if you’re a club player, attempting that magic twice in a row will probably see the second attempt trying to break a hole in the bottom of the net). 

Still, I have vivid memories of return winners I’ve pulled off and that feeling of hitting the sweet spot on the first attempt in the rally is wonderful.

In this example, Novak Djokovic hits what is regarded as one of the best return winners in history - not only was it hit at the perfect angle and at a ferocious pace, but he saved a match point with the shot. A few minutes later, the whole match turned around and he won it:




THE ON-THE-RUN PASSING SHOT

This could be my favourite shot of all.

Because I am completely inadequate at the net, I’m generally very good at defending when opponents attack me by coming to the net themselves, so I’ve developed a good passing shot.
Again, in general the player who has found a moment to come into the net should theoretically have the upper hand and be able to put away a volley. As the defensive player in that situation, you can either lob the ball over your opponent’s head or bludgeon it into an open space and hope that they won’t get there – I prefer the second option, and when I get the execution right and have a clear target to aim for, it’s hard to resist an internal fist pump.

Rafael Nadal hits passing shots like nobody I've ever seen and by so doing, wins points he should almost certainly have lost. Enjoy:



THE DROP VOLLEY

This is another shot that I’ve very rarely hit, except by reflex, but it’s one of the ultimate crowd pleasers in tennis matches everywhere. Why? Well unlike a regular groundstroke, whereby you gradually move the ball around until you get the chance to let rip, you’re generally playing a volley with the intention to aggressively and powerfully send the ball into the open court for a clean winner.
This means that volleys are generally clinical, fast, point-ending shots.

The drop volley almost always takes your opponent by surprise. They’re waiting for something fast and hard, and the last thing they’re expecting is the ball to delicately, nonchalantly drop just over the net – unlike a regular drop shot, drop volleys are also very difficult to read until it’s far too late.

Federer executes these shots beautifully - I just said that Nadal hits the best passing shots. Well, in this point, Federer's delicate drop volley > Nadal's powerful passing shot:



THE WRONG-FOOTING WINNER

Winners in a regular tennis rally are generally the result of the more aggressive opponent sending the weaker opponent scurrying to the left or right, and then powerfully driving a great shot into the open court.
The wrong-footing winner bucks this more popular means of winning points and makes it clear to your opponent and the crowd that you’re not just hitting the ball, but have the clarity of mind to outwit your opponent. So after a few ‘predictable’, side-to-side, left-then-right shots, you hit one in the same direction twice – your opponent has already begun moving in the other direction and then can’t turn back quickly enough. The successful wrong-footing winner generally leaves the defeated player floundering like a baby wildebeest that has just been born. It’s hilarious, and very satisfying.

Instead of a wrong-footing winner, though, take a look at Polish tennis player Agnieszka Radwanska's ridiculous reflex skills when she is wrong-footed by a net cord:


Radwanska is very quiet and not known for emoting on court, but even she had to take a moment and acknowledge her greatness after that shot.


These are just a few of the most satisfying, ego-boosting shots in the sport of tennis. So often, just one or two of these great shots played in close succession (see Djokovic shot above) can change the entire mood and momentum of a match, such is the mental impact of this game on its players.

Fellow tennis players, I’d love to hear about your favourite shots in the game too, so please – do share!  

Saturday, 16 August 2014

5 Subtle Signs Of An Approaching Summer


My favourite season of the year has started to show signs of appearing once more. Sometimes, the signs are quite obvious: a 26 degree day in the middle of winter, which sees hoards of Capetonians flock to the beach as if they had never before seen seawater.

But it’s the more subtle signs that summer is near that I relish most.

The menial tasks that become easier. The simple joys of life that, in winter, were complicated terrors:


OPENING PATIO/COURTYARD DOORS

This morning, like a ground squirrel coming out of hibernation, I slowly opened my patio door and peered out tentatively. There was no chill factor that violently slapped me across the face for daring to step outside. No water dripping from the gutter above. No puddles, branches and sad, dead leaves to navigate. There was the distinct smell of spring in the air, and I was able to cook breakfast with an open door for the first time in months – seems insignificant, but it was so, so good.


DOING A NORMAL-SIZED LOAD OF WASHING

In winter, doing washing usually means throwing five desperately needed items into the machine and praying that they will be dry in something under 48 hours. Today, I did a full load and then hung it all up – gasp – outside.

Who knew?

Even more impressive is that everything will probably be dry by this evening.


DRINKING WATER WITHOUT WINCING

I recently started a group fitness class with a few colleagues and our instructor has been insisting we increase our intake of water, for several obvious reasons.

But drinking a cold glass of water in winter? There is actual physical pain involved.

This morning, however, that first glass went down just a little bit more easily (nearby, a Chestnut Sparrow also tweeted from a tree, as if to approve of my healthier choices. I’m not sure if it was a Chestnut Sparrow, but it sounded appropriately exotic).


COLDPLAY & JIMMY NEVIS

Let’s ignore the juxtaposition of Coldplay in a post about summer for a minute. But I also played my favourite feel-good, summer vibes album for the first time today: Coldplay’s Mylo Xyloto.
If memory serves me, the album was released in the summer of 2011 (or, that’s when I first caught onto it), and the likes of Paradise and Hurts Like Heaven are the perfect accompaniment to the summer season, which makes quite a change from cold winter’s nights just trying to ‘make it through the rain…’

My other favourite feel-good album is Jimmy’s Subliminal. The fact that he’s set to release a new album imminently means there’ll be another one to add to the summer season’s playlist.



DRIVING WITH THE WINDOWS ALL THE WAY DOWN

I’m all about car air-conditioners.

I love being able to select the perfect temperature (whether hot or cold) to remain comfortable.

But after months of the car heater at full blast, there’s nothing quite as refreshing as that first drive with the windows all the way down and one of those aforementioned albums at full volume. There hasn’t quite been a warm enough day for windows to be turned all the way down, but slowly but surely, I’m able to let the air in, which only means summer is near.



So yes, the warm season is on its way and its hard not to get delirious with excitement when you live in the best city in the world. And even though I’ll be spending two and a half weeks of a South African summer in the midst of a European winter (now that is going to be something), I’ll be sure to get in my fair share of beach time before I jet off.

If you're still not feeling the summer spirit, I'll leave you with this beautiful picture of a recent Camps Bay sunset taken by my friend, Lesego: