First Post from Perth

Right. It’s been a while. Had a few things to do you know with the whole setting up a new life all over again thing. I wonder if there’s any chance of a consultancy post in witness protection for the FBI. I’m really getting rather good at this setting up a new life lark, bureaucratically speaking at least. My other career option at the moment is as an extra for ‘Home & Away’. I now live near a beach and there are always, always surfers doing their thang in the water – and undressing beachside. I’ve been practising walking past over and over looking disinterested and I think I’m ready for camera.

Career progression aside, a month after our arrival in Perth, our lives have taken on some degree of ‘normalcy’. That is if you consider having to weave around a maze of cardboard boxes to get from the kitchen to the bathroom to be normal.

Cottesloe Beach - 1.5km from my door and I get to run here
Cottesloe Beach – 1.5km from my latest door. Sorry no half naked surfer dudes in this shot 😦

The kids are happy at school. I’ve got a new address, a bank account, a phone, a car, a SATNAV (very important!) and of course, I’ve resumed my duties as personal driver to three children. My soccer-obsessed son was welcomed into a local club despite the season being almost finished, and daughter no. 2 is thrilled to have joined a great gymnastics club with lots of cool equipment. She has committed to 5.5 hours of training – and an extra 3 hours driving for me – per week. If only I got paid for mileage. Unfortunately, I’m paying for the mileage and it will take a long time to adjust to the price of petrol here compared to Malaysia. OMG!

Even nearer than the beach, I have the river. Nice :)
Even closer than the beach, the river. Nice 🙂

IMG_7446Speaking of mileage, this summer (and now winter as I’m in the Southern Hemisphere where winter seems disconcertingly like a great Irish summer but with surfers) was definitely the season of a lot of Expat and virtually no Runner for The Expat Runner. But now I think I’ve finally, with the help of a new Australian physio, and a three-pronged approach to Rehab (more on that another day), started to improve my ITBS. Sunday, I ran 5km for the first time in 10 weeks. Two weeks ago, I could barely manage 1.8km before excruciating pain forced me to stop. The cure has involved a lot of Elvis-inspired pelvic thrusting, frequent application of anti-inflammatory gel and, counter to the advice I received in Ireland, running (on alternate days only). I’m a long way from better but I’m on track for a return to racing. For now, I’m grateful for a return to running, even if it’s only 5km. In the meantime, a slower pace along the beach has its perks. Surf’s up mate, or whatever these lovely Ozzies say.

 

London Recap

Well Dick Whittington was wrong – the streets of London are NOT paved with gold. However, I can attest to the fact that the parks – Hyde Park, St James’s Park, and Kensington Gardens – are teeming with runners. Or maybe it’s like that time I was trying to get pregnant without success and it seemed that every single other woman on the streets of Singapore was sporting a baby bump. I couldn’t run but everyone else could, and did. Despite being benched, we had a fabulous time. London really is an easy city to navigate, whether by foot, bus or underground, and there is so much to see and do that you find yourself saying ‘Well, next time..’ a lot.

Me and Mo
Me and Mo

One Direction were strangely absent from Madame Tussauds much to D2’s disappointment. A Twitter search after our visit revealed that the wax versions of the boy band are currently in Amsterdam. I guess Madame Tussauds London are keeping this important fact quiet lest it deter Tweens from visiting. The Natural History Museum was a big hit. In fact, at the end of our second visit I had to send out a mayday call for D1 who had failed to show up at our designated meeting point and the museum was closing. ‘We have found the missing child’ a member of staff relayed back to the exit through his walkie-talkie. As D1 was escorted to the exit, she assumed a case of mistaken identity- she couldn’t possibly be a ‘missing child’ – and worried that she was being kidnapped by some strange family. A few years in KL can make a child paranoid about abduction. Once reunited with her sister and me, her only concern was if the Gift Shop was still open. No, she had not heard any of the multiple tannoy announcements about closing time. So, yes the Natural History Museum is engrossing, and it’s free to visit (donations are encouraged).

We were too late at the Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre for a tour as apparently it’s a working theatre and there are no tours whilst plays are showing. Lesson learned there. ‘Mamma Mia’ was a blast; despite having seen the movie several times, the live show was still entertaining and brimming with talent. The quick visit and lunch at the Victoria & Albert Museum, a dash past Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and St Paul’s, a lot of walking in parks (trying to ignore runners) and a rather long visit to Top Shop completed our little trip – until next time.

photo

Tomorrow we move to Australia. As you do. No big deal at all. I’ve a feeling that the parks in Perth are also teeming with runners; fingers crossed that in another few weeks I’ll be one of them.

D-Day Minus 4 months

Moving sucks. And it doesn’t get easier emotionally (nor practically). And even when you know from experience that things usually work out, that children adjust to new schools, that new houses can be turned into new homes, that the nuances of every traffic system/shopping mall/currency/phone/culture/kitchen can be learned, and even new friends (and in this instance old friends too) await, it is done with a heavy heart. And tears. As a chronic weeper, there will, over the next few months, be lots of tears. 

The trick is to stay positive, look forward not back, though not too far forward as that can be scary when you think about the fact that you’ve no clue of what your address will be in six months, and embrace change. And cry in private. Yes, wish me luck with that. We haven’t in fact got confirmed places for the children in school in Perth, so as yet no flights will be booked. Still, I have to start conceding to myself at least that our time in Malaysia is coming to a close. Yep, tears. We’ve only got four months left.

For months I’ve been convinced that my running habit, picked up in Malaysia, would make moving easier, as it would allow me not only to keep exercising while between gym memberships, but it would also give me a tool for meeting new people in Perth. And as lots of people tell me, Perth is a fabulous place for running, so I know I’m fortunate that it’s there we’re going and not back to Manila (or Jakarta or umpteen other cities where running could be a challenge).

What I’m now realizing though is that my love of running developed here and the fabulous sense of community it offers will make the leave-taking harder. There is the list too of races that I can only see through until June. The familiar routes that I love and hate with equal passion. The familiar faces whose names I will never know but with whom I always exchange greetings on those weekend LSDs.

I have three half marathons, a 12km and a 15km to do before we go. If the Mizuno Wave Run is before June 13, I will sign up for that too. I need to stay injury-free, so having been lax with my physio since my parents arrived for a visit, I head back to rehab on Friday with a new ache in my knee (which might be due to a very high mileage week last week, or a need for new shoes). My PTT foot is complaining a little too so hopefully Akmal can knead the scar tissue out of it. I’m going to try not let nerves get the better of me at any of these races – the first, the NW Galaxy 12km, is this weekend – and do my best to enjoy the opportunity to race amongst friends (and within sight of those icons of the KL cityscape, the Petronas Towers).

Moving sucks but our nomadic lifestyle also brings privilege. I’m very aware of that. Leaving Norway four years ago was very painful, but I would never have missed out on the experience we’ve had in Malaysia, and I can’t have it both ways. So bear with me over the coming months. Keep moving forward, with no more than the odd glance over your shoulder, acknowledge the places you’ve been, without losing touch with where you have come from, stay strong mentally, talk to yourself if need be, push through the pain, and savour every moment. Running? Living? For the next few months, the same rules will apply.