Shameless

I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a simple test for who will make a great expat and who won’t.

You simply need the “Shameless-ometer”.

I think in general I would score average, or, in truth – less than average – because shameless was something I was only good at in my late teens and early twenties, particularly after a drink or three.

The basis of my theory? To make progress, to get things done, to do something new in a foreign country, each and every time you have to accept that you might:

  • Say something wrong
  • Culturally offend someone
  • Incur the wrath of some local, official, parent…
  • Be completely mistaken in your reading the measure of acceptance, or rejection, in  social setting
  • Appear way less intelligent than you think you are (or perhaps just appear only as intelligent as you really are)
  • Waste a lot of time doing the wrong things, joining the wrong queue, asking the wrong question, going to the wrong park
  • Say the completely wrong thing and not realise

And so it goes.

You must approach each and every situation with a mindset of complete gullibility, with almost a wanton disregard and a shamelessness which means whatever the event and whatever the outcome your face remains bathed in calmness and your body floating on the sea of tranquility.

And if your don’t, your life quickly starts to resemble an ancient ruin unlike any other ruin you ever occupied when back in your cosy cave of familiarity.

It’s a simple reality and for me it explains why I at times have crashed so badly whilst on the other side I know of people who have breezed the whole expat experience and yet I generally regarded them as being slightly naive and not really independent.

And there’s the point – as an expat not being ‘all-knowing’  (and to accept that) and not being independent are actually huge advantages, and me, well I’m not gifted with either of those blessings.

Which is kind a funny when you think about what I’ve wished for in our children, what I have thought of as critical life skills, and… well now I see the other side of life. The side which is the Ying of the Yang or the Yang of the Ying  – whatever way that’s meant to be, and now i’m not sure which is the fire and which the water.

So I’m learning to be wrong and accept it, learning to put myself in situations where I may be embarrassed (but for shorter and shorter periods of time), learning to be completely lost  in understanding what is going on, and generally learning to accept this.

And as, if not more, importantly I now have the challenge of how we might transfer this to our girls, and at a business level how we might apply this to our managers and leaders.

And where it resonates is when I think of many of the more entrepreneurial people I have met (I mean the successful ones). Often they are not the brightest and they have a certain gullibility about them. Their main belief is not ‘themselves’ (as they are often accused) but that progress is imminent and the only way is up. They know they will make mistakes (learn) and they know they will go into places and situations they have never been before – typically about very 2 hours would be my guess.

And what we teach and lecture and insist upon in much of life is ‘get as many ticks as you can, have the right answers and don’t make yourself look foolish.’

The platitude is that ‘mistakes are OK as long as you learn from them’.

I now think a better phrasing may be:

Mistakes are Ok as long as you are prepared to follow them up with more new ones

For me, this may just be the beginning (just when I though I was getting closer to the end)

Go forth and get something wrong!

Be shameless.

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ING NYC Marathon – Epilogue

And so what of it…

Marathon fireworks two nights before the race

Well it’s renewed my passion for running, even if that does mean I need time for my ankle to rest, it renewed my belief in what people can do – anyone who puts there mind to it – the marathon is the metaphor – and it’s a very good one (I thought often through the race – why 26.2 (Iike really “why?”) – but more particularly what if it was less, what if it was more, is the story highlighted in history because someone realized something about that distance – and of course there is no answer, but isn’t it amazing that 47,000 people can get off the couch to do this, when we know for sure it isn’t easy).

And of course it proves that there is reward, real reward, in taking ourselves through these things, through pain and discomfort we wouldn’t ordinarily endure, by avoiding the ‘seemingly safe’ and taking on the ‘not so obviously safer’ route of pushing our boundaries and reminding ourselves of what is possible.

I remember my first training run – the day I found out I was in (true) – I dragged myself around a 2 mile circuit of Staadspark in Antwerp on a fairly hot late April day, got home to pop open a beer and then had the phone ring with the charming Bertrand offering me a ticket to a concert he was off to (his wife was unable to go and Chrissy and the girls were in Italy), my legs aching I headed off and had a great night – apart from having to stand for about 90 minutes more than I would have liked.

And from there to 26.2 miles in New York. Before that I had completed probably fewer than 10 runs in over 10 years, and not been past  6 miles in over 15 years.

The highlight of my training is still the novelty of running to the Nederlands from Antwerp (a convenient ½ marathon and my longest training run). The previous night I drove out there with the girls and cycled back to Antwerp with them in the bike cart. They had a great time and so did I, we did lots of crazy stuff along the way and I remember how excited they were when I got them home to Chrissy.

Edie and Olive - 2hrs after I'd finished (they'd been at Lion King) - we were all pretty stoked - so Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square saw the Croad girls celebrate in style!!

I was up at 5 the next morning and headed off into the sunrise on a beautiful late spring morning. It was peaceful, clear with a frosty mist drifting across the horse paddocks, probably to date the most beautiful day I have etched in my mind of Belgium. I completed the run on schedule and drove back to Chrissy and the girls before 8 in the morning –  I still had a whole Saturday up my sleeve. Magic, pure magic.

Honestly next to giving birth (not me, Chrissy – to our two wonderful children) this has to have been one of the best returns for effort I am aware of.

It costs a pair of shoes, a little organization, a bit of determination, a bit of care, and any 26.2 mile course you can find.

You’ll love yourself for it, and people will regard you as a superhero (even your kids)… which is all quite nice if you can get used to it!!

Be strong – go do something you never thought you would, and let me know what it is and how great it feels.

ING NYC Marathon – across the line

The Mountain Lion - I was looking out for this in the run - it helped get me home!

Coming out the park and heading towards Columbus circle was a bizarre feeling, I wanted to feel totaled, exhausted, dehydrated, spent, but I didn’t. My legs were traveling slowly but one after the other much like they were at mile 2. It was both a time of elation (I’m nearly there) and disappointment (I could have pushed harder) – and before you say it – go back and read my earlier comment, that’s just running and me!

I was running alongside a woman (I have this theory about running next to the best looking woman you could find, there were actually quite a few to choose from!) from the navy down that stretch but as I turned into the home stretch (back into the park and slightly uphill) I pulled away easily (I’d already caught and passed the Nederland guys) and then in the last 100 yards (just when I could have been ‘zooming’ across the line) I had Chrissy’s words in my head ‘look excited when you cross the line’ and I remember totally losing focus as I desperately tried to conjure up some ‘cross the line elation performance’.

I settled on crossing the line with what seemed like a large leap in the air (the video shows it to be about 3cm {: ) and thrusting my hands in the air.

Unfortunately it was such a well conceived piece of choreography that I completely forgot to consider whether the audience might be able to see it, so despite hundreds of camera’s and video’s at the finish line, my Oscar wining performance remained largely obscured as I ran in behind two runners and it looks more like I managed to stall some sort of exhausted fit.

I further added to my ignominy by not even stopping across the line, but quickly clearing the crowds (and photographers) with the one thought in my mind being “Right what’s the time I don’t want to keep Chrissy and the girls waiting after the Lion King”. Yes, I understand I should be seeking help for some of these pre-occupations.

Fortunately with thousands of people crossing the line every 10 minutes the route out of the park was quite lengthy and I had time to reflect on what I had achieved and I certainly felt pretty good looking at the condition of the many around me, but I also felt good for them. I loved seeing all these people give their all for something I have always loved doing – running.

There was no one being impatient, it was a well-behaved crowd of tired men and woman. The odd person being plucked from the queue by attentive medical staff, and a number just sitting as far out of the way as they could to re-hydrate or ease cramped muscles. It took a full 40 minutes to get from the finish line, to the gear truck and then out to the nearest subway.

Olive on the monkey bars in Central park - right next to where I exited two days later.

Music to my ears

A brief word on Music – the race started (each wave in fact) – with a Firefighter from one of the 911 brigades singing Star Spangled Banner, as the gun fired Frank Sinatra’s New York New York boomed over the speakers. You couldn’t mistakenly think you were in the London marathon!

Through Brooklyn it was covers of Born to be Wild, Bruce Springsteen, the Rolling Stones, The Bangles (Girls just wanna have fun), Metallica, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and of course the choir in Lafayette, Katy Perry hit the waves on a few occasions and there was also a fair bit of Hip Hop and Rap – all but one of which was a mystery to me.

I can’t recall any music at all down 5th Avenue or through central or across the line – but I’m sure there must have been. But in the Bronx I did here the track which to me defines my trip to New York and I’d been waiting to hear all the way along, it defines New York exceptionally well and speaks of the music of ‘the time’ – you’ll all be surprised, I have this on my i-Tunes, I love the sound, the emotion, the lyrics and the way the song captures so much about NYC – look it up and have a listen and imagine you’re running the ING NYC marathon yourself: Jay Z (Featuring Alicia Keys) – Empire State of Mind.

Me and my support crew the day after. I wouldn't have done it without them 🙂

(Next post i’ll tell you what it all add’s up to…)

ING NYC Marathon – Part three

So onto the second half.

Yes I do remember it, and even physically the run is divided sort of neatly into two halves. Not long after half way you cross a small bridge and then onto the long Queensborough bridge which presents a not inconsiderable grind up and a mind altering decent down through a spiral bend onto first avenue.

Mind altering because it had to be the coldest corner on the course and it was wall to wall crammed with more craziness; bands, yelling and screaming supporters, kids, grandparents, mums, fathers…Smurfs for all I knew!. That and what followed was probably the most memorable scene of the course for me, for as you came out of the turn you lined yourself up with 1st avenue ahead, jammed full of thousands of runners down 6 lanes and more spectators giving it ‘all’ for as far as you could see (and from the bridge end that was quite a way)

Even though I knew that there was a return leg, for the first time I felt like I was on the ‘back’ of the run. And wow what a beautiful day, glorious, absolutely glorious. The race merited the weather and the weather the race, and all the supporters deserved every good break they could get.

The Queensborough Bridge (I think!?) - taken from DUMBO

I suppose not unexpectedly, more people recognized the “kiwi” while running through Manhattan, so that was odd to have more support all of a sudden, but by now I was watching a lot of others, trying to pick countries, see what sort of people were around me, who was fading who was doing it easy.

I lost big chunks of 1st avenue in this way; I was hardly conscious of running, I felt pretty relaxed, and was actually looking forward to getting into the Bronx and through Harlem, to feel what they had to bring to this massive 26.2mile street party!

I mostly remember two things about the Bronx – the music and more unfettered compassion and encouragement – oh, and pulling a muscle thanks to the great rendition of R.E.S.P.E.C.T. I thought it was going to be a long way from there. I remember straight after that a big dude of a DJ blearing out “Welcome to the Bronx runners, this is the heartland…now come on bring it on home!” Hobbling as I was it made me determined to try and get back to running, which about ¾ mile later I was – but during that time the 3hr 50min pace marker passed me and just after I got going again the 4hr pace runner – so I knew 4hrs was toast!
I settled again for what my pre-race estimate was of 4:15, and started doing the math to get me over the line then (8 miles to go). In hindsight I should have just ‘hurt more’ and got on with it.

Strangely I felt a bit disrespectful just charging (Poetic license!) through Bronx and then Harlem, felt like I should thank them and thought of my friends from Australia Wes and Annette who were doing the race for a Harlem kids charity and what a satisfying feeling that must be as Wes ran through before me and Annette followed later.

Somewhere in Harlem another DJ boomed out “this is the wall, welcome to the wall”. It displays my lack of taking this seriously that I didn’t even know what that corresponded to, I think it’s 20 miles, but I remembered thinking ‘so what!’ though I concede I was a bit tired and still walking to ease the pressure in the back of my right leg.

Central park - walking part of the course with the girls 2 days before the race

As we finally came alongside central park it all seemed within reach, I checked my time and distance and knew I had a bit up my sleeve, walked some more, and then as we turned into Central park at E72nd street I hooked on to the back of a ‘likely bunch of Nederland runners’ and followed them through the park. I walked again near to a spot I knew from walking it with Chrissy and the girls, just to re-gather myself, got to the top of the rise and then set off past the mountain lion and on my way to the southern end of the park.

(Next – the final installment)

ING New York City Marathon – Part two

It is indescribable, something I have never seem in a sports event to this level (and I’ve done many of the most popular events in NZ). I would run it again just for that feeling – and I’m sure it would work me over just as much the second time.

Through Brooklyn, every ¼ mile (out of respect to the Americans all references will be in miles) was another band – folk, rock, pop, electric, and down Lafayette Avenue the Choir – I could have just stopped there a while and listened. However all of it added up to feeling like you owed it to them; to give it your best.

I knew some of the kids I was high-fiving probably would never get to have a pair of decent running shoes, and yet here they were being foisted high by mum or dad or their big brother or sister with grins and encouragement (and meanwhile probably thinking they had just high-fived some super athlete – Olive asked me the night before if I was going to win! – oh to be struck down from your pedestal).

And so it went, not long after turning off 4th avenue I got my first big “Hey Kiwi, go Kiwi…” (see photo to understand that) – it was a very emotional moment and the one I remember best of all (what’s that they say about your first!).

From there the entertainment started to morph – in terms of either passing or being passed by a carrot, an apple, Spiderman, Captain America, Superman, a bride and groom, and a few others whose outfits in general use would have qualified them as a nut-job.

I saw a few Kiwis through the race, but mostly everyone was either running their own race or running with a group – socializing was largely limited to brief interactions with the crowd and the occasional person ‘diving’ out of the pack to hug and embrace mum/dad/son/daughter/husband/wife/brother/ sister/ friend/ or fellow countryman. That was very emotional and I must admit though I had insisted Chrissy take the girls to Lion King rather than put them through the torture of waiting for a brief glimpse of me running by, I was more than a little envious and at times a ‘hug’ would have been better than great.

The ½ marathon mark came up with relatively little effort, I was 4 -5 minutes behind my target, but I knew the slow crossing of the Staten Island bridge (just too many people to weave around) and the brief ‘relief’ stop on the other side (tactical decision due to poor pre-race strategy) had been the main contributors. However the mind games kicked in immediately – I had not trained at any distance greater than this due to a heavy travel schedule and my nursing a niggly calf muscle for the last 3 months. So mentally I switched from cruising to being very conservative – and more than anything that added time to my time.

If I could have run the race the next day with the knowledge I could run it I am confident I could have taken off between 10 and 15 minutes (note the distinction between knowing I could finish and not knowing how much I could run), and that is a little of what holds me back in celebrating – I didn’t hurt enough, in many respects this was probably my most conservative effort in a sports event ever.

As a half-way interlude for you  some random musing– who did I think of while I ran?

Well Chrissy of course, and her determination to run and her enjoyment and satisfaction from running (it was in the end what got me back into a pair of shoes). Olive – she loves movement, and is certainly showing early signs of being a great little athlete. Edie because she just loves doing stuff – whether that ends up as running, downhill mountain biking, or – who cares!

I thought of Lance Armstrong and how he described it as the hardest thing he ever did (I think he is now doing under 3 hours and a half marathon time similar to mine when I last ran one in my 30’s), I thought of the old guy that used to run all over Manawatu where I grew up, he was probably one of my first role models – I wanted to be fit like he was at his age (I hope in reality he was over 40!).

I thought of all the people who couldn’t, of friends I have lost and in particular Francie who died 18 months ago from cancer, I thought of my brother Rodger.  I thought of my older brother Peter who has run plenty more Marathons than me and was in hospital having a quintuple bypass the week Olive was born, I thought of my brother in law Simon who competed at the world heart transplant games in Gotberg this year. I thought of my boss and his family who have endured and survived a tortuous year.

I thought of the impossibility of poverty and the generousness of almost every New Yorker we encountered rich or poor. I thought of my parents and my in-laws and my many friends. I thought of Ray Wood the long tall Texan – Kiwi who has always run and tagged me along with a good friend of his to run the Heaphy track in a single day (49 miles), Ray has been often on my mind whilst I trained, I think he used to find my approach to running quite humorous (that I could pick it up without much effort or thought as and when I wanted). I thought of Dan Rockwell who I should have contacted and who only weeks later came close to losing his life in a car accident.

In short I constantly thought of how lucky I have been, and how lucky I was to be able to ‘compete’.

If you’re not on the list – it’s only because I can’t remember it all and I didn’t have enough energy to run another 26 miles to get a few more in!

Part 3 – in a few more days…..

ING NYC Marathon 2011 – Part 1

Chrissy asked me some time ago to do a post on the ING NYC Marathon.

Well it’s been a marathon wait and here it is.

Three reasons for getting underway – Chrissy asked, lots of people at her birthday party (NZ) asked, and I’m stuck in a motel by myself so it beats TV by a long shot.

Where to begin?

Well perhaps somewhere past the end… I have had many unbelievably positive reactions to this achievement and often people have seemed somewhat confused as to why I am so seemingly modest about finishing. Truth be known I am not modest at all, but when it comes to running I have pretty high standards.

I did regard my effort as very modest compared to people who only took up running in the last twelve months, people who only ran it to honour a lost loved one (mother, father, sibling, friend), those running blind, those running without ‘legs’, the woman who had to be in her 80’s cranking the handbike up first avenue with a smile on her face, the people without arms, the war vets with injuries of all manner. And had I finished ½ hour quicker I would still feel just the same (though undoubtedly more satisfied within myself).

For those who know me well I’ll save the comments; yes I’ve broken both legs and ankles and still have metal in place, I have a lung which is glued to my chest, get asthma, but, and this is the point – I knew I could do it – the only questions for me were how fast and how much damage would be done (ankles etc.).

They say something like ‘Marathons are 20% physical and 80% mental’ I completely agree. Mostly it’s perseverance, it was nigh impossible to pick those who would ‘ace’ you and those who would trail you across the line – you could see them physically, but not what they had inside (though I wish I knew where the woman with the diamond studded head band and Hermes top finished). I particularly enjoyed the T-shirt a guy had on (who I ebbed and flowed with through much of the middle of the race) which said “Personal best is only temporary”.

Having done multisport events 2 and 3 times longer than the time I expected for the marathon I never for one minute doubted I would finish (though when I pulled a thigh muscle while boogieing to R.E.S.P.E.C.T being sung out loud as I ran into the Bronx – I did picture myself hobbling across the line).

So will I do another, and do I recommend it? Absolutely.
Absolutely.

Now I’ll try to explain why, and if I motivate one single person to get up and go for it, then all this self-reflection will be worth it.

The ING Marathon

This was simply the most amazing accumulation of human charity and compassion I have ever seen. 47,000 people running and in the process raising US $36 million which is simply amazing and makes most every other charity event I am aware of pale into insignificance.

For me though it was the 2 million odd New Yorkers (and foreign add-ons) who lined the course from 9:30 a.m. to 6pm to cheer and shout and sing and wave and high five and hand out sweets, Vaseline sticks (fortunately not on my list of needs – and that’s for chaffing for the non-initiated), bananas, drinks, smiles, shouts, encouragement and general craziness. It practically brought me to tears as I ran onto Fourth avenue in Brooklyn ‘this is insane’ I declared with tear filled eyes to any runner nearby ‘…and I mean that in a good way’ I added to probably a completely different bunch of runners!

(next installment in a day or three…)_

Dan Carter out!

You could not have scripted a worse outcome for the All blacks. Dan Carter out of the cup!

The All Blacks can still win, however if they do they are an even greater team than I had thought they were.

It’s going to be a long wait to the final, hopefully we get there. I’ve always contended the best first five wins the cup, hopefully the AB’s can prove me wrong.