And now for Eileen

It is no coincidence or convenience that I have begun my blog project by writing about the likes of Dot.

In life friends come and go.  But good memories always remain.

The sadness about life and people passing on is many of their classic stories go with them, forever forgotten.  I'd like to think I can keep some stories still alive - to me the Dot ones were magic - yet there we many more of her I could share. Not enough room or time.

Not all blogs will be about people.

And yes, some blogs will eventually, be short.  Meanwhile I cannot move on to other topics and shorter blogs before sharing some classic moments about my champion marathon and Ironman friend.

And now for Eileen 

My old mate, Eileen. 

She’s still alive! 

And even at her now 84 years I can see her outlasting many of her mates who are decades younger. I first met Eileen in 1977. 

The other day

Like my meeting Dot, meeting Eileen was also in the women’s YMCA changing rooms. Not with the YMCA running club this time but the ‘Businessmen’s Health Club’ which was, and still is, set up in the basement of central Auckland's inner city YMCA buildings in Pitt Street. 

There weren’t too many fitness centres, or ‘health clubs’ as they were commonly known then, in the country in the 60’s and early 70’s. Well not ones that catered for men plus women. The old establishments such as The Atrium Club and The Northern Club were well established but truly chauvinistically male only. In the late 60’s New Zealand’s renown athlete opened his Les Mills gym – a gym catering for both men and women - which had the YMCA and its Businessmen’s Health Centre management contemplate adding female membership to the male dominated centre at the Young Men’s Christian Association. 

However the women were not to be highly visible to the male membership so a small, adjacent dungeon room was kitted out for where women could workout and Jazzercize well away from the sights of the ‘business men’. 

In 1975 I ran my first ever running event, the Auckland Round the Bays 11 kilometres from downtown Auckland to St Heliers beach. It was at the after event social tent I met an attractive women with a ‘die for’ body who had completed the run in a much quicker time than I who told me it was due to her belonging to the YMCA fitness centre as they had inspirational gym instructors. She suggested said go along and join. 

So I did. And there were encouraging and inspirational gym instructors there who gave the gym an addictive energy, especially for the new trend of 'jogging'.  

Thus it was in those women’s changing rooms I first heard the lightly sing-song lilt of the Welsh accent. 

A short, stocky women in her early 40’s – in a pair of tight fitting running shorts and tight fitting sports singlet; this woman was obviously known to all members in the gym and seemed to be a person of interest to all those in the changing rooms. 

Within a matter of months I too was donned in a pair of tight fitting running shorts and tight fitting sports singlets, cringe worthy fashion now, and was running the central streets and parks of Auckland city training for my first ever half marathon with this short, stocky, Welsh woman and her other running friends. 

Our training was interesting. Across the road from the gym is Myers Park and the fitness instructors had drawn up a large coloured map of the park’s footpaths to show how we would easily train for Round the Bays by running these loops. Which, if one knows the park, means running up several flights of stairs, up steep asphalt pathways, down steep ones, in and out of the local drunks and vagabonds, around the statue of David, up the steps to St Kevin's Arcade, around the old, now historic Auckland Kindergarten building then straight up the side of the park into Vincent Street. Running and training in the park meant us women did not initially have to toss ourselves out onto the Auckland streets where truck drivers, construction workers, rubbish men, all sundry males who stopped their work, stare, wolf whistle, call out and basically embarrass and belittle these self-conscious women in their 20’s, 30’s and for Eileen who was in her 40’s – Eileen was the oldest, by some years. Thus these times and days began my now 45 year friendship with Eileen. 

Now, like Dot, Eileen was/is a bit of a character and one that people warmed to due to her enthusiasm to talk to anyone and convince many they were more physically competent than they probably really were. And she had good reason to seem convincing, for at 45 she had completed her first marathon run and had returned to the Businessmen’s Health Club on the week after as a mini-hero for what many had condescendingly pondered impossible. 

A whole book could be written on the subject of Eileen in those days. But I am going to focus on two non-running stories of Eileen’s that will forever be etched in my mind and now hopefully yours. 

The two of them

Eileen and her husband, Gerald, had moved to New Zealand in the 1970’s on a 6 monthly basis, returning to Wales every New Zealand winter. Their reason for this is a really interesting one, involving the first warehousing system of running efficient supermarkets in New Zealand. Anyone remember 3 Guys? Gerald was a 3 Guy. 

Must not Segway though. Their coming out to NZ was solely due to Gerald and his business interest with Albert Gubay to set up NZ's first major warehousing supermarket, 3 Guys. They lived in New Zealand for some of the year then returned to their home base in North Wales for the rest of the year before returning to their New Zealand home a few months later. 

In Wales they lived in a modest bungalow in a quiet village. Eileen had become an icon in her village – she had joined their local athletic club, ran all over the Welsh countryside with them, ran marathons, then later began to ride a bike, buy a wetsuit and become an Ironman athlete. 

With Gerald & Eileen spending their New Zealand winters in Wales and returning for the New Zealand summer, it was perfect for Eileen and her athletic interests.

When in Wales it was the tradition of Gerald and Eileen to have family around on Sunday afternoons when Eileen would wait on the relatives with tea and cakes, food and beverages. One Sunday Eileen had had enough of being the one tending others and the two of them decided to let the family arrive but they would go driving in the Welsh countryside, find a quaint tea house that were dotted all throughout the country lanes and enjoy a quiet cup of tea and cake, just the two of them.

With Gerald driving along the hedgerow lanes and Eileen navigating they saw a hopeful gatepost sign and driveway – “this one looks good,” says Eileen and Gerald points their brand new and polished Mercedes Benz up the beautifully manicured sweeping stony driveway to the front steps of the grand old two-story stone house. 

“You go in Eileen and I’ll park the car,” says Gerald as he indicates to where other vehicles were parked alongside the driveway. Eileen walks up the grand stairs and enters through the grand doorway to the entrance of the tea rooms. 

“Ah,” thinks Eileen, this looks perfect as her eyes scan the beautifully decorated Tudor home with the lushness one expects of a high tea reception house. Over to one side was a charmingly set dining table, laid out with silver tea set, Dorchester tea cups and even the 3-teired cake stand. 

Sitting at the table were four women in their mid 40’s supping their cups of tea.

As Eileen entered and contently look around for a table to sit at the four heads turned her way. On seeing Eileen approvingly scan the room one of the ladies enquired, “Can I help you?” To which Eileen replied, “Yes please, my husband is parking the car and we'd like to have afternoon tea for two.” There is a momentary pause. 

“This is a private house, I am the owner, these are my guests,” says the woman. Eileen looks, then looks again, scans the room again and realises, there are no other tables, this IS a private house, this is not a tea house. 

Just as reality dawns on her Gerald enters through the door, all set for his afternoon tea and cakes. Eileen blusters some form of apology to the lady, spins on her heels, grabs a stunned Gerald by the arm and rushes him out of the door ….. 

In later years they took me past the beautiful house and yes, it did have a sign on the roadside, with the name of the house - it sort of looked like a tea house sign. 

Gerald - the short one.  

Gerald 

In his younger days he was a bit of an Arthur Daley was our Gerald. 

In his early married years he was dubiously buying and selling carpets to local folk in surrounding Welsh villages. He drove a battered, old van with a sliding side door and had taken out the passenger seat to enable him to fit more of his long carpets rolls in the van. 

One busy day he was heading to a village on a carpet delivery errand when Eileen decided she would go along for the ride. It meant Gerald had to temporarily put the passenger seat back into the van - and Eileen grabbed her knitting and happily knitted away while Gerald drove through the country lanes and villages. 

They came to one village and Gerald, who was known to have a heavy foot on the accelerator pedal, approached the village roundabout a good few kilometres an hour faster than the road signs indicated. As he drove into the four-road intersecting roundabout at speed the passenger sliding door instantly slid open and as Gerald continued to accelerate through the intersections out of the van popped Eileen, still sitting on the unsecured passenger seat, still knitting, and landing upright in the middle of the roundabout. 

The unplanned maneuver happened so quickly Eileen had not comprehended what had happened, nor had the eye boggling drivers and passengers of the on coming vehicles, those who saw before them a woman, sitting on a car seat, in the middle of the roundabout, knitting, as though it was the norm in this little village. 

It was not until Gerald exited the roundabout that he turned to look at the open sliding door and realised Eileen, and seat, were missing …. 

Fortunately it was in the 1960’s, not a lot of heavy duty traffic in the 60’s. 

Gerald, getting his priorities right, firstly checked his carpets were still safely in the van then went to retrieve his knitting wife and her seat – and delivered his carpets.

This is a replica of Gerald's van

Nostalgia photo below

Early 1980's - Eileen in middle.

As an epilogue - Eileen ended up running many marathons and in her prime was turning out sub 3hr 30 marathons.  She was one of the early age group New Zealand women to complete the NZ Ironman in the days when it was held on one of the toughest courses - the Auckland course.  She was 54 when she did her first Ironman.

A true legend of those times.