Ironing into 2014

Phew.

It hasn’t exactly been a smooth ride into 2014.

It has already had its ‘moments’.

The eve and initial hour or two were pleasant and memorable as was spent in warm company, on a warm night, in a warm environment.  And we walked to the Domain to watch the SkyCity fireworks from the slopes of the Museum hill.  Many lovely other people there in their groups all happy and content with the quiet evening anticipation of midnight.

Eventually went to bed at 3 am having congratulated myself on enjoying the first post-Tony New Year’s evening.  Sliding into an empty bed reminded me of how much life has changed since March last year; still, guess I am fortunate to have a bed to slide into.

Since that midnight hour less than a week ago it seems there has been an entire month of activity in the past five days.  An odd low light but many highlights to enjoy looking back on.

Catching up friends over the most expensive fish & chips sold in New Zealand at Takapuna beach was a pleasant way to pass one evening. Bubbles were involved. That was a highlight.

Spending a day at the ASB Classic tennis with another friend and watching a real professional athlete at work, Venus Williams, made for a very congenial way to pass a day.

Staying a couple of nights in another friend’s home in Mt Maunganui was also a perfect opportunity to catch up with a couple we have seen little of in the past year.  And the hospitality was thoughtful and gratefully accepted.

The most positive high point of the past few days was the successes of the athlete crew who competed in the Port of Tauranga Half Ironman on Saturday.

A mini-triathlon is a formidable feat for many, so a half Ironman distance one is an enormous step into the endurance eventing realm.   Needless to say, those under the ‘Verna umbrella’ did mighty well ; at least that is my perception on their ability to have come through the day with great results and having fared no permanent damage to their training bodies.  Physically or mentally.  As far as I can tell.  Even those in the team event achieved positive results.  Another confirmation to self that I must be doing something right.

Meanwhile I look down at my feet now and wonder how it is possible to have feet swell to such an extent.  Yes, I did the half Ironman on Saturday too but a post-event-foot-swelling-condition has never occurred such as it has after this event.  Weird.  Have had the feet stuck in cold buckets of water since arriving home yesterday – well, took them out of the bucket when I went to bed – yet woke this morning to feeling as though the skin was so tight that it must split and finally I may be able to autopsy my own feet. 

Shall head out for a walk soon in the hope that keeping the blood flowing through the legs will help – keeping them elevated last night certainly didn't.  And fitting size 6 feet into a rectangular bucket conjures up all the contortions you could think of whilst sitting at a computer writing training programmes for a number of hours last night.  It kept the cats amused.  For some reason both my cats are fascinated by water. More fascinated with a bucket of water, under my chair, with my feet in it as they lift themselves onto their hind legs and peer into the bucket; probably telling each other that on this occasion their owner has definitely gone bonkers.  

Doing the half Ironman was an unnatural experience for me.  Having done the event in previous years and then again in 2012 I had Tony with me, as usual, supporting, helping and cheering me on in his usual manner; it had been a mentally and emotionally rewarding day.  So much so that I had entered the 2013 event with the bright thoughts of Tony and I replicating a pleasant few days in the Bay of Plenty, as we had done with so many other events over the years.  Then Tony became too ill and the trip to Tauranga was quickly cancelled.  Therefore I decided soon after Tony passed away in March that I needed to plan forward and  tick this event off the list of ‘firsts’;  to go do as soon a possible so that any future trips to the Bay of Plenty would have experiences that did not necessarily include Tony.

It was the right thing to do as I did make my own experience this year.  Me, just me.  That was what was so very unnatural, haunting.

Yes, I had travelled to Napier in December to do the Iron Maori but this was an event that Tony and I had not shared together before.  I went down to do the event because Tony and I had followed the event since it first came on the scene and we had been impressed with the popularity of the event and the couple who initiated it; this event quickly became iconic on the Hawkes Bay calendar.  We had wanted to travel and do the event but circumstances meant it never occurred.  December was my opportunity and I was fortunate a warm friend gave up her weekend to travel down with me and be my sole (perhaps that should really be ‘soul’) supporter.   It is a celebrated event and deserves the many accolades it gets.

But this Port of Tauranga Half Ironman, without Tony.  Everything felt peculiar.  Disquietening.  I had no Tony to drive me down from Auckland.  No Tony to calm me when panicking about getting to registration in time.  No Tony to check my bike.  Nor my helmet which was rejected as unusable, Tony would have discovered that long ago.  I never thought to look.  

I will be eternally grateful to Wayne Skipworth’s offer to lend me his helmet – to his personal detriment (by co-incidence he & wife Heather are the initiators of Iron Maori and happened to be in the bike check shop at the time my helmet was rejected). That’s a true champion. 

No Tony to check any of my other gear and he always did. No Tony to walk to transition in the dark with in the morning. No Tony to pump the tyres.  No Tony to hug me good wishes and to kiss me good luck and squeeze my hand as we parted.  No gloatingly proud Tony as I emerged from the swim or left transition on the bike. No Tony behind the railings at transition to the run.  No Tony out on the run course checking how I was looking – to tell me my style was good (or not so good).  No Tony to hug me at the finish. 

Or, more importantly… to pick up my gear and my bike from transition and return it to the vehicle.  To wash it all down, to rinse the wetsuit, to allow me to shower first.  He was so good to me.  No Tony to share those post-event ponderings on what-ifs and why-nots.  No Tony to wander down to prize giving with, to go to dinner with.  No Tony to rub the aching legs or to share the coffee stop with on the journey home.  To unload the bike and gear while I unpacked the bags. Just no Tony.

It was a weird, unnatural, disquietening, unnerving and peculiar event. 

But the event is over.   It’s dusted, done, completed –mission accomplished.  All by myself.  Maybe I am a big girl after all.