Category: introspective

On 29th May, I’ll find myself in Pietermaritzburg attempting the Comrades Marathon (89km or 56 miles). That’s little over a month away.

early_morningsPhoto taken after a 20km run. 

Friends keep asking me if I’m excited for the Ultra and I’ve been rather tight-lipped about the endeavour. Excited doesn’t describe how I’m feeling. Terrified and anxious is a more accurate description. But I don’t say any of this to my friends. I’m afraid that they won’t understand exactly how worried I am. I’m afraid that instead of listening, asking WHY and trying to understand how I’m feeling, they’ll simply brush away my concerns, offer empty platitudes and advice. None of which I want or need.


Right now I simply want to say, I’m scared. I’m scared that I won’t complete the thing. I’m scared that my body won’t be able to cope with the distance. I’m scared that I’m not mentally tough enough. I’m scared that I’ve taken on more than I can handle. I’m scared of how crushed and devastated I’ll feel if I fail. I’m scared.


Typing this I realize that the biggest truth is that I’m afraid of feeling disappointed. And it is this fear that making me cautious, less hopeful, less willing to dream, less willing to aim higher, less fearless. Instead of aiming to finish in 11 hours, I’m simply hoping to scrape by. TRUTH.


Random photos


From left to right:

  1. Milkshakes at The Creamery. I went with Lime Curd. Yummy.
  2. Ships at the Waterfront.
  3. The Big Wheel at the Waterfront.

Photo taken in Durban

The following was written a while back …


I’ve just finished reading, “Hyperbole and a half” by Allie Brosh. Allie Brosh is a blogger who talks about her dogs, her childhood and her struggle with depression. Her book (and blog) contains comics (not just words!) and “the secret to eternal happiness.” She is of course lying about the “secret to eternal happiness”.

My favourite quote from the novel is her description of depression and everyone’s optimistic suggestions for combating the disease.

“It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.”

Next up on the reading list is:

  • Snow by Orphan Pamuk (Started reading this a while ago …)
  • Kinshu: Autumn Brocade by Teru Miyamoto
  • White Teeth by Zadie Smith
  • Into The Wild by Jon Krakauer


On Sunday, I ran my first race since Two Oceans Ultra – UCT Memorial 10km. I knew that no matter how tough the route I would be able to complete it in 55 minutes easily. I managed to do it in 54. I probably would have done better if I didn’t stop at the 9km mark.


I’ve yet to board my plane to Durban and I’m already plotting my 2016 adventures/bucket list.

The Comrades Marathon in Durban is definitely on my list. I’d also like to do the Oudtshoorn Marathon.

Juan and Dizzy* might be moving to the UK soon. So I’m thinking of visiting them in London and then popping over to either Rome or Paris to run a marathon.

I also need to tick off snowboarding and hiking the Fish River Canyon from my bucket list. *Sigh*

A few years ago, I could not differentiate between garlic and ginger. I didn’t cook. And I certainly didn’t bake. Cooking and baking were tasks performed by GIRLS. Girls, whose only ambition was to find a husband and pop out some kids. Girls who didn’t want jobs and ADVENTURES. Girls. who liked pink, tiaras and understood the difference between base and foundation. Girls who weren’t me.

A lot has changed since then. I no longer think of females, who can bake and cook as “girls”. I think of them as women; as matriarchs. I think of them as accomplished individuals. I think of them as women, who nurture and sustain loved ones.

This change in thinking, this transformation wasn’t instantaneous. It started with a thought that any individual over 25, who couldn’t adequately feed him or herself, was pathetic. So in 2012, I dedicated one day a month to baking, to learning, to creating, to never giving up, to finding ONE signature dish that I would whip out at EVERY family function.

I learnt a LOT that year. I learnt that you should never ever, ever pour boiling water on to active dry yeast. I learnt that if you DO make the mistake of pouring boiling water onto active dry yeast your (MY) mom will scream, “You killed it!” (Dramatic much?) I learnt that I really hate being screamed at. (Wait. Nope, I’ve always known that.) I learnt that attempting Chelsea Buns isn’t for amateurs and you need some serious baking skills to attempt the feat. I’ve learnt that you should wait for your cupcakes to cool down BEFORE icing them. I’ve learnt that there’s a certain pride and satisfaction that comes with creating something delicious. I learnt that if I put my mind to it, I can achieve almost anything, all it requires practice and dedication. I learnt that friends will describe my salted caramel chocolate tart as, “NOT a dessert. This is pure decadence; a heart attack waiting to happen.” I learnt.

I still don’t like pink, tiara or know the difference between base and foundation, BUT I can bake.

If you’re looking for awesome food blog, may I suggest Joy the Baker? She’s an awesome photographer, storyteller AND cook.


Wes Anderson’s latest offering, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” will be showing at The Labia (a cinema in Cape Town) on 20 March. I simply cannot wait!