Creature from the Black Lagoon

I had another good week of running with recent niggles and injuries all behaving themselves. I also had the most delightful fun yesterday morning (Sunday) with one of my running buddies. It was a dream morning for running.

We started at Weston Park in Yarralumla just as the sun gushed orange over distant hills, giving birth to another day. Barely a cloud in the sky. It was a mild morning; crisp but not cold. Cockatoos and Galahs squawked their welcome. As we ran along the southern shores of Lake Burley Griffin around Lotus Bay towards Reconciliation Place in Parkes there were even some sea gulls, a surprise.

I love these runs when there's little pressure or expectations. We jogged a bit and walked a little with plenty of time to observe. The birds were friendly, but so were the people. We came across guys preparing their boats, a young couple taking photos, and a few runners and walkers. There were smiles and waves, everyone relaxed. What is it about mornings like this? There's an order and simplicity to Nature where each has their place - even for us, these strange, bipedal intruders we sometimes seem to be.

Except I think when it comes to water. Last Thursday night I headed off to the Australian Academy of Science building, "the Dome", to attend a Get Up political forum on the Australian Senate. There is an unfenced moat with about a metre and a half of water sitting idly around the outside of the building. As I waited at the building entrance, I thought surely many a bugger pissed to the hilt would have stumbled outside from a cocktail function or something similar and trundled into that water.

Sure enough not ten minutes later, that is exactly what happened. Except it was no drunken skunk, but a dear old lady in a wheelchair. She probably had visions in her youth of being a Formula One driver perhaps. She took the corner of the pathway, too fast and too tight and, yep...plop!..went straight into the drink. Oh, this was funny! She didn't think so, of course, and she had a point. She was SINKING! She certainly wasn't thinking of England as she lay on her back, the water rising, tangled in that chair of hers.

Many hands make light work, but that doesn't apply to old ladies sinking in wheel chairs. Yes, many helpers extended their hands from the (dry!) edge of the abyss. Yet she continued to flounder. There was only one solution - TD to the rescue! In my business suit and shiny leather shoes (less the jacket) I jumped in to help the damsel in distress. With one hand through her legs and the other under her back, it was like tossing sheep at the Cloncurry annual show as I...er...'manoeuvred' her up to the helpers' hands at the edge of the moat.

Yay, she was saved. I do remember her smiling as she was driven off and at least she was happy. As for me, I later felt silly sitting in that large auditorium listening to the debate completely wet below the waist. I imagined I also smelt like that putrefied creep in the "Creature from the Black Lagoon". A bizarre night to say the least.

Just call me TD

Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments on my previous post which are greatly appreciated as always.

After the 'excitement' of my Moty posts and earlier overseas adventures with pigeons and all I decided on a deliberately low-key tone for that last post. But as a couple of you very perceptively picked up (Cirque and Eddie especially), 'My Moty' has well and truly returned. She's back indeed. And I do feel like the Old Running Don of Old.

I was away overseas for work again during the week and that photo at top left is of a great sunset snapped through the window of my cab as I headed back out to the airport.

In other news, I have decided to give Sydney City to Surf the flick this year. I'd paid, entered, and received my number and am fit. My mates will be there, I love the race, and it's an annual pilgrimage for me - not a combination of fortuitous events to be scoffed at! It's just that I didn't think I could afford to have two consecutive weekends away from home as the following weekend I have decided to head north to Brisbane and run the Noosa half-marathon. More on that later.

It was pleasing to get through last Saturday's Bush Capital run without pain or discomfort to my adductor. All year I have been battling this right adductor/groin/glute tendon and nerve thing. That's a convoluted description and it was a convoluted injury . Yet as is sometimes the way with injuries, this ever persistent pest just got up and left. Just like that!

With the injury gone (apparently - fingers crossed), something else has left - and for good. Hasn't anyone noticed?? "Tuggeranong Don" is kaput and replaced by "TD". I had long felt uncomfortable with the former, which was too much of a mouthful and too hard to spell. It was boring. It's now gone. For the bereaved, donations in lieu of flowers can be sent to any suitable charity for the relatives and victims of deceased blog handles.

For the time being until I can think of something better it will be the plain and simple boy next door name of "TD". I would therefore be grateful if you could respect my wishes at this sensitive time by no longer cavorting with my alter ego. Just call me TD.