Five One Hundredths of a Second - 500m Premier Opens Final - AusDBF Nats / Penrith (Fri 19 Apr 2013)

Five One Hundredths of a Second - 500m Premier Opens Final - AusDBF Nats / Penrith (Fri 19 Apr 2013)
Once, twice or, maybe three times (if you are fortunate enough and willing to take the risks) in a paddling career you do something unbelievable. Something you just can’ t explain, though sometimes it worth giving it a try. Here goes ..

You are happy you have made the major final. You know you are up against strong teams. The favourite, the team directly on your left, you have not beaten in three years. In fact you have not been within a boat length, over 500m, for the last two years. Against the odds, and your failing self-confidence, you still somehow believe that we can still get across the line first. To be part of of something great. There is always hope at the start. It is a chance to create who you want to be. You don't get your hopes up too high, as you have been disappointed in the past. You don't think about all of this too much at this point. The focus is putting your best race on the water and seeing how it compares to the others when you have all crossed the line. You are not overly nervous, but you are excited and proud to be there. A supportive and encouraging tap on the knee for those around you. Remember it is a 30 stroke start. Just focus on the first 3 strokes and take it one by one from there. Clean water. Hand out of the water. Blade buried. Make sure you feel and stay connected with the water with every stroke. The starter aligns us and we ready. "Paddlers, are you ready, attention please" .... the gun does not fire for some reason. This has happened a few time before over the years. Keep your focus, no distractions. We will be away soon. Refocus, lets do it again - 30 Start, first 3, deep and clean - feel the water. "Paddlers, are you ready, attention please" ... "GO". You Go on the "G". 1-2-3, up, up, .. 10, up, up, .. 20, up, up, ..7,..30, reach, reach, hinge, hinge. The boat is up and running and there is something there. We are hingeing and driving through the stroke. The boat is more than running, it is been driven through the stroke like it has felt in training over last few weeks, except this time it is race intensity, not level 4, Remember this Geoff, Remember this moment. We are there next to them, where usually they pull away here, but we talked about staying connected. Give it everything to the 250m and refocus. Somehow, we are sttil there at the 250m. Refocus and reinvent yourself, I think. Drive, Drive is the call, We are still there, connected. You have a 6th sense (and good hearing) and you know without looking that our drummers are side by side. Passing the 200m start hut and the little red lane marker buoy. There is something uplifting in our Sweep's voice - "you are doing it". The lane buoys turn to red - we are 100m out. We have done everything our training has given our bodies - it's amazing to find that something extra that the sport scientists say should not be there. Mentally, prepare for the lift home. This is the most crucial part of the race - they are probably a nose ahead. We are going to have to do something amazing - something the other teams have pulled on us often over the years. "do it for the gold (or was it girls?)" is the call. We lift. We lift. The rate comes up a touch and the boat becomes light as we surge forward with every stroke - narrowing the margin. It is all clear as day, those last few strokes. You give it everything you've got when there is nothing to give. You cross the line, you hear the finish horn blast away in succussion. You look across and you know you have done it. The look in your competitors faces tell you that they know you have also done it and you take a few quiet moments to take it all in, while some of the others around you show their elation more jubilantly. Gasping for air, you touch the same knees as you did before the start. This time the "ritual" tap is to acknowledge your team mates efforts and the fact that you have done something that does not happen that often in a paddling career. "Three cheers for the other crews" is the call from our Drummer - three "hip hip". and a breathless "hooray". We bring the boats in and we all get off. Back slaps and hugs all around. Not even a second thought who won that one as you make your way through the other 180 or so paddlers you have just competed against. You smile and for some reason laugh. This kind of win does not happen that often - "take it in", "take it in" you say to yourself. You see many familiar faces as you walk through the line. They are happy for you. Many you have experienced some amazing experiences around the world in Australian Campaigns past and you hope that the journey with them will continue. Somewhere along the way you hear that we did it by five one hundredths of a second. You know the course well and you smile that you can pick such a small amount of time moments after crossing the line. What a race. You think to yourself, "it's not that we won it, it is how we won it" – it's just not what was expected by many (including yourself) and that is the beauty of dragon boat racing - the randomness and uncertainty to some extent. The boat has never felt like that out of the start and into the transition. You think to yourself, you have never paddled like that before. You feel fortunate that you took the risk to be there, you did the training, the testing, you've put yourself on the line time and time again. You have been crushed by the ramifications of defeat and oddly enough, those one or two other once in a life time victories . At the end of the day you know that it is worth the sacrifices you make to do what you have done, do and hope to do. Maybe this is not the end, but a new beginning ..

I will leave this unedited. It’s just a stream of thought that came out of my subconscious in the last 20 mins. Hope it makes sense and it will be fun to read, many year’s into the future.

Five One Hundredths of a Second - 500m Premier Opens Final - AusDBF Nats / Penrith (Fri 19 Apr 2013)

Be Audacious - Ravenna 2014

Home (*) - Blackwattle Bay / Sydney (Sun 24 Aug 2014)
Creature of habit, but I like this routine. Always go to Blackwattle Bay on the last Sunday before we leave to compete. I walk, take a few photos (*), read, think and reflect. And this time I wrote something, so here it is ..

I’ve been thinking lately about how every year seems to be different. It's natural. With time, things do change and I thought that this was the only reason things appeared to change. But you know what, even if everything did stay the same, it is still different, because you are different. You see things differently because you are a year older and all that goes with that, if you are doing something with your life.

With that rather random introduction (but I think there might be something in it), I thank everyone at Pacific Dragons for making Ravenna 2014 (*) happen.

How does such a small club get itself half way across the world to compete against the best clubs in the world?

It takes a thought, a dream, a goal, some intention, commitment and dedication. That's part of what it takes and the Club has lots of this and all the other things needed to be competing at our 4th consecutive World Club Crew Championships. I thank you all.

So with another candle on the cake, and with two sessions to go, I've come to love and appreciate this part of the campaign. I’ve been thinking lately:

• You know you are being coached by the best in the world - I told the boys this at the AB when we met in Feb this year, that alone is a good enough reason to buy in on the campaign.


• You feel fit and you know the effort is paying off – a conversion and gelling process is happening. After 70 or so water sessions, we are doing some really intense sets now. Things you just could not do, even a few months ago – and you thought were pretty good back then


• It’s scary but you love it.


• More so now, it’s not just what you are doing, it’s what you are thinking, what you believe.


• It’s not just to do your best, but to go beyond that and to give it everything.


• It’s not just for you, but for everyone who has loved, supported and helped you to get to this point.

Finally, going back to where it all began for most of us this campaign, I was asked in front of the Group, at the AB, that night back in Feb:

What is it like to be a World Champion?

I did not know what to say (and it was the reason I sent out that Five One Hundreths of Second (*) Post on FB after the meeting). And, I'm not sure that it is even the right question, but I did say something like this:

It's one step at a time. It is great to feel like you are in the game. You can’t expect to win, it’s not your fate or destiny to win and you definitely can’t just hope to win. You have to try. And you have to have confidence and belief in yourself, your support network and your team. [1]

and with that I concluded:

Be Audacious!!! [1]

And, so I am and so I think we all should be ..

Regards .. Geoff

[1] the essence of these thoughts came from a great blog post (*) I had just read at that time by a Canadian Olympic Kayaker, Adam Van Koeverden (*). For me, he is Canada’s Drew Ginn (*), both who are inspirations to me.

Thank You: RPM ..

I started RPM (an interval based stationary bike programme with 7 cherographed training tracks) at Sydney University's Aquatic Centre's RPM Studio on Fri 11 May 2007. I was so "pumped" and I can still remember calling Jenny almost straight after the session to say that it was everything (plus more) that I hoped it would be. Jenny and Jo had told me about their "Spinning Classes" and how much they enjoyed it. I had finally found the same thing - thanks Jenny and Joanne.

RPM Studio - Sydney Unit Aquatic Centre (Mon 30 Nov 2009)
I had been toying with the idea of doing some Group Fitness at the Sydney Uni Gym. My membership at the time allowed me to use the Gym equipment only. The previous weekend I had successfully trialled for the Australian Senior Open's Dragon Boat team to participate at the 2007 IDBF World Dragon Boat Championships. I was looking for something new and thought I needed to try something different, to compliment the running I was doing for my cardio.

I was a little nervous about the joining the Group Fitness Programmes and in my normal way, I put it off until I read a blog post by Drew Ginn titled:

• Ridden into the ground and loving it

I had been following Drew's Blog for a few months. I had really connected to his writing style (particularly the grammatical and spelling errors :-) and found all his articles to be very motivating. Being a Rower, his articles could easily be translated and related to my world of dragon boating [in actual fact, I have felt that I have almost lived a parrallel life, though not quite at the same level :-) ]

Vincent and Geoff - RPM Sydney Uni Aquatic Centre (Fri 27 Nov 2009)

Heart Rate - First RPM Class - Fri 11 May 2007 (Vincent)

The Ridden into the ground and loving it post was a motivating story, but it was the following quotes that really caught my eye:

[..] The remarkable thing is each time I go into this place, into this zone I find something special, something new. [..]

[..] The pleasure is in the relationship the lies within the range and scope of extremes. The vastness of feelings marks a cycle. Not just the one we ride but the one that is ever present inside us. [..]

These were the feelings I wanted to explore more. Maybe RPM could accelerate what I had already learnt in the boat.

RPM has turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made regarding my development. It has been everything I hoped it would be, plus more.

What have I found in RPM? I have found many things: discipline, the cherography for each track requires a mental discipline. A sense of timing and feeling: the music and tracks require a feeling for the beat and rythym - much like the feeling you need to find when paddling. The interval based workout requires a measured approach to your effort. On top of all of this you become very fit.

Ali and Geoff - RPM Sydney Uni Aquatic Centre (Mon 30 Nov 2009)

When I first started I would hide in the middle of the class and try not to be noticed as I do with most things. As my confidence and understanding grew, I bought a pair of bike shoes with clips (the 2007 Tour de France really motivated me there). With the new shoes, I had to move upto the front row where the bikes with toe clips were. It was a great move. It helped me with my dragon boating (even more), where I had just started to stroke (i.e. sit in the front seat). I started to develop a sense of feeling the energy, and timing behind and around me - it is very similiar to stroking a boat.

Loulou and Geoff - RPM Sydney Uni Aquatic Centre (Tue 01 Dec 2009)

One of the bests parts of RPM for me has been the people. Vincent is the head instructor at the Gym and has worked (and still teaches instructors across Australia) for Les Mills (an Auckland based company) who run and develop the RPM Programme worldwide. James has been an instructor for years and is probably one of the best instructors in Australia - he brings his mountain bike experiences to the class. I have seen both Ali (she started the same time as me) and Loulou go from participants to intructors who run amazing classes and bring their own personalites to each session. Vincent has taught them well, it has been a delight for me to watch their progress and development. As I said, this has been one of the best parts of RPM for me and they have inspired me in my own endeavours.

James and Geoff - RPM Sydney Uni Aquatic Centre (Wed 02 Dec 2009)

These people have contributed significantly to make me the person and athlete I am and I can't thank them enough. Just recently I personally thanked each person and gave them a copy of Jenny's Gold Medal story with a big thank you for their part in my development. Also took the chance to get a photo.

Thank you Vincent, Ali, Loulou and James and all the RPM team at Sydney University Aquatic Centre.

Geoff

More On Writing - I Wrote this for You / Iain S. Thomas (Mon 05 Aug 2013)

Live Your Life - Calle de Santa Isabel / Madrid (Sun 11 Aug 2013)

Iain S. Thomas on Writing:

Write About Something Else

Write about something that makes you feel uncomfortable.

Write about something that makes you worry what other people will think.

[..]

Write to try and capture your own unique voice and take on things.

Write About Something Else by Iain S. Thomas.

And that is pretty much what I have done here these last 6 years. It's certainly been uncomfortable. I've definitely worried about what other people will think and it's been done my way. And the best bit is that I have loved every minute of it. You've Gotta Love It as Patricia would say.

On Understanding and Expectation - Elvis Costello / Spectrum (Sat 31 Aug 2013)

A Door (*), A Window (*) - Red and Blue - Paddington / London (Sat 17 Aug 2013)
Elvis Costello (*) talks about musical creation (*):

We were somewhat free from expectations (*) because we didn't tell anybody we were doing it, because we didn't know (*) we were doing it ourselves at first.''

via Pump it up: How hip-hop seduced Elvis Costello (*) by Nick Miller (*).

Back home now. A fantastic trip (*) with many great moments and experiences. Not a natural traveller, but this trip I seemed to handle it all better than I ever have and was fully engaged in the moment, not feeling homesick and not wanting myself to be somewhere else.

Hardly gave my work, paddling or situation in life (my usual preoccupations) a thought. A usual thought was to try and understand a place, event or thing, not to judge or to wish it to be something I am familiar with. It is there for a reason, and if I could just understand it a little, then I might learn something about it, life, or even myself.

I also thought how lucky I was to able to do this, to have these experiences and this outlook on life.

Took over 10,000 photos and have much to look at and ponder over the next few months, in particular, and no doubt, for the rest of my life.

Some photos have been taken so I can remember a place, a moment, or a transientary thing - to give it a life beyond its time.

Some have been taken because something caught my eye - a colour, a combination of colours, lines, shadows or maybe just the quality of the light.

Others I think have been captured for reasons beyond my comprehension, just as Elvis explains above. Most of these photos will never be seen by another person and in some ways this relieves me of any expectation or what others might think, as the above quote so nicely demonstrates.

So if you think some of the photos that appear here are a little beyond comprehension, maybe you should be thankful that you don't see some of the others that will never seen by anyone other than me.

Thanks Elvis and Nick, a great interview which allowed me to learn something about myself, which is what great writing and its sharing is about.

The Lucky Ones

This is a work in progress. It has been in my head for a long time now, but it has been hard to write. Hopefully, it will make sense. I expect to modify it a bit over the next few weeks, but at least it is a start.

A few months before Jenny died, I read Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike". Jenny had been given a copy by a long time friend, Mena, not long after the book was first published here in Australia (sometime around 2002/3 I am guessing). She read the book quickly and I know she got a lot from the pages. For some reason I did not read the book until early May 2009.

Geoff, Jenny, Mena, Steve and Joanne - Natation DB Titles - Kawana / Qld - Sat 25 Apr 2009 (picasa)

I bought my own copy so that I could read the book that meant so much to Jenny. I think I was motivated by the fact the Jenny was progressing to the final stages of her Cancer (at least that is reluctantly what I quietly started to think - she had just been diagnosed with multiple tumors in her liver on the 11 Mar 2009 - not a very promising situation). I thought I might find something in the pages to understand her and our situation.

I read the book, intermittently over a few weeks, at my local coffee shop before work and on the train to work. There was lots of the book that resonated with me, particularly his encounters with cancer. One part in particular struck a chord with me. It was about a half through, where he writes about what he felt during chemotherapy following neurosurgery to remove a beign brain tumor.

What is stronger, fear or hope? It's an interesting question, and perhaps even an important one. Initially, I was very fearful and without much hope, but as I sat there and absorbed the full extent of my illness, I refused to let the fear completely blot out my optimism. Something told me that fear should never fully rule the heart, and I decided not to be afraid.

I wanted to live, but whether I would or not was a mystery, and in the midst of confronting that fact, even at that moment, I was beginning to sense that to stare into the heart of such a fearful mystery wasn't a bad thing. To be afraid is a priceless education. Once you have been that scared, you know more about your frailty than most people, and I think that changes a man. I was brought low, and there was nothing to take refuge in but the philosophical: this disease would force me to ask more of myself as person than I ever had before, and to seek out a different ethic.

A couple of days earlier, I had received an e-mail from a military guy stationed in Asia. He was a fellow cancer patient, and he wanted to tell me something.

"You don't know it yet," he wrote, "but we're the lucky ones."

I'd said aloud, "This guy's a nut."

What on earth could he mean?

When I read this, I stored it away in my mind, eagerly awaiting Lance's own answer to this question - lucky .. What on earth could he mean?. It would come quietly on the last page of the book.

"You don't know it yet, but we're the lucky ones," my fellow cancer patient had written.

I will always carry the lesson of cancer with me, and feel that I'm a member of the cancer community. I believe I have an obligation to make something better out of my life than before, and to help my fellow human beings who are dealing with the disease. It's a community of shared experience. Anyone who has heard the words You have cancer and thought, "Oh, my God, I'm going to die," is a member of it. If you've ever belonged, you never leave.

Jenny had often indicated that she felt lucky (I think in both aspects - that of surviving an aggressive cancer and oddly enough, having had had cancer). She said this in the Australian Story Episode, "In the Pink":

'I don't understand how things work out, and why things work out the way they do. I feel like I've been lucky. I don't understand how cancer works, I don't know why I've been blessed the way I have been.'

Jenny - Australian Story - "In the Pink - Kirrawee - May 2004 (picasa)

and in her Talks:

'I feel I am so lucky and have a wonderful life. I have had some great opportunities through breast cancer to meet some very inspiring people. Geoff and Jo have been a constant source of support for me. Breast cancer has totally changed my life but for the best.'

Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)

The Rainbow Connection - Phil, John, Marj, Jenny, Liz, Noel - Phil passed away shortly after this photo was taken - he often spoke to Jenny about how luck seemed to play a big part in how things worked out, but sometimes you make you own luck - Rely for Life 2003 - Sylvania Waters - Sat 31 May 2003 - (picasa)

As Jenny's International Dragon Boating Career started, she came to the attention of the Media and in the first Newspaper Article she featured in, she was even compared to Lance Armstrong:

Don Iverson, Director of the Health and Productivity Research Center at the University of Wollongong, said that Ms Petterson could be compared to Lance Armstrong, who won the Tour de France after fighting testicular cancer.

'It's almost superhuman,' he said.

Cancer wont slow rowing champion - Sydney Sun Herald - 2 May 2004

She was a little embarrassed by the comparison, but Jo and I were very proud of Jenny and her achievements in her treatment, her sport and her life as breast cancer survivor.

Geoff, Jenny, Grace, Lynn, Betty, Thomas, Grant, Joanne and David - Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)


After Jenny's passing, I had an encounter in the Intensive Care Unit where Jenny left us. Joanne and I had gone back to thank the staff at the St George Hospital and to pickup some scans that had been lost in Jenny's move from the Level 1 to ICU. We spoke to the head ICU nurses (they were between shifts) and we knew both of them from Jenny's time in ICU (and I was well known to them as I had fainted in ICU on Jenny's second day in ICU after the neurosurgery). We talked a little and I mentioned that Jenny did consider herself lucky to have had cancer - as she said herself - it had changed her life for the better. One the nurses questioned this statement and she made me feel a little uneasy for saying what I had said. She could not believe anyone with cancer could consider themselves lucky. Maybe, she had seen too much of the cold harsh reality of cancer in that ICU. Maybe she was right. It did not seem too lucky now that Jenny was gone?

This conversation stuck in my mind for a long time, and I started to question many things. It was not until I came across the following blog post by Doug Miller that I found some peace. Here was a man who had recently been diagnosed with Cancer. He was articulate and in many ways his post offers so much more than Lance's writings on Cancer and Luck. This is probably the most moving piece of writing I have read in my life. I don't have cancer, but I have lived a shared life with it and it's consequences. I can truly emphasise. Here it is. My heart is with you Doug ..

Doug Miller - Colorado Trail San Juan Mountains - 1994 - A Single Path - (blog)

The Lucky Ones by Doug Miller (Wed 23 Sep 2009)

[..] a friend [..] pointed me to Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike" I picked up a copy and quickly read through it. I liked it.

It had a bit much detail focusing on cycling, but that was an aspect of the man that could obviously not be separated from the larger reality of his battle with cancer.

There were portions though that left my mind spinning. Armstrong's description of his diagnosis and the roller coaster of emotions that ensued was painfully raw and hit the mark with a clarity and similarity I could not deny. I myself am walking those darkened and fearful paths as I write these very words.

Out of all the pages a couple simple statements that he made resonated with me in a powerful way.

Armstrong tells of a letter that he received. It was from a man he had never met before. He himself had battled cancer. He wrote Armstrong to acknowledge his support and positive thoughts. As he finished the letter he made a strange statement that confused Armstrong. He wrote, "you probably do not understand this right now, but we are the lucky ones".

What? How is anyone with cancer lucky? It is devastating. It not only has the potential to steal your life, but also has the destructive potential to steal your Hope. Those words are haunting. Lucky? We are the lucky ones. This brotherhood of suffering is somehow lucky..........blessed?

It is diametrically opposed to any sort of sane thinking that those outside of this brotherhood would agree with. It actually is an almost dangerous statement. As if you say it as you are waking off a cliff without a safety net. A statement such as that redefines everything. Life. Death. And even Hope.

But as I walk this path, and simultaneously encounter life in all its beauty and harshness, I find myself agreeing. "We are the lucky ones". I am lucky. I say those words with a part of me screaming, "how dare you, how can you say that". But it is true. The perspective that cancer gives to life is unbelievable. It has the power to refine you. Your thoughts. Your direction. Your focus.

It is as if you look at life for the first time. Everything is different. Nothing is the same. Everything is turned on edge, revealing a freshness and an urgency that is not seen outside of cancer. If this clarity does exist in our normal lives, it is missed. Overshadowed by the busyness of life. By worthless and empty pursuits.

Another quote from Armstrong's book was this: "Cancer is not about dying, it is about living" What a statement.

Most would argue against it. But those that walk this path find it to be true. Life after diagnosis becomes "alive". It becomes real. It is as if you can grasp it with your own hands, breath it in, consume it.

Oh if I could have had this view earlier in life. I knew that it existed. I sensed it. I chased it. Through the mountains. Through relationships. In the woods and fields of my youth. It was a whisper in the words of poets. And a reflection on the horizon as the sun slipped out of view. But i did not catch it until cancer became my reference. My reality.

We who are members of this brotherhood and sisterhood of suffering are the lucky ones, because now we can truly live. And Love. And Hope. And I dare to say Dream. They are painful dreams, haunted with the shadows of uncertainty, but they are vivid dreams. Passionate dreams. Dreams that leave your heart aching, your soul longing. We are released from the fear of death. Our finite lives are bared.

We come face to face with our mortality and realize that life is looking back at us. Raw and uncertain. But ALIVE none the less. There were days before cancer that I despaired. At times despising my life. But now I am hungry to live. I long to live. Whether that time be long or short, I hold tight to life and all of its glorious agony.

Posted by Doug Miller at 9:11 PM

On Energy - What gives you Energy - Drew Ginn (Thu 18 Oct 2012)

Cobblestones - Berlin (Wed 10 Aug 2005)
Drew Ginn (*) asks Energy - What gives you energy? (*). His response:

Doing Stuff Alone,
Doing Things With Others,
Taking Initiative,
Being Lead,
Being Coached,
Being Challenged,
Setting Goals,
Achieving Goals,
Doing,
Learning,
Crowds,
Challenge,
Winning,
Risk,
Achieving,
Making Mistakes,
Being Centre Of Attention,
Being Quiet,
Reflecting,
Thinking,
Focusing,
Performing,
Following,
Being Praised
Being Pushed,
Being Left To Work It Out,
Seeing Other Do Well,
Doing Well,
Trying Stuff,
Working Stuff Out,
Knowing Whats Expected,
Knowing Whats Required,
Listening,
Having Clear Goals,
Seeing Improvement,
Time Pressures,
Making Decisions,
Taking Having Choices,
Making Choices,
Saying No,
Stepping Up,
Thinking About New Ideas,
Making People Laugh,
Hurting,
Feeling Pain,
Getting Taken Care Of,
Being Looked Up To,
Being Included,
Having Autonomy,
Being Creative,
Being Good,
Being Bad,
Influencing Others,
Surprising People,
Getting Something For Nothing,
Working Hard For Something,
Deserving Something,
Being Helped,
Taking Control,
Having Control,
Letting Go,
Resting,
Sleeping,
Pushing Boundaries,
Challenging Others,
Doing A Good Job,
Doing Whats Expected,
Making People Happy,
Beating Others,
Stuffing Up,
Following A Plan,
Setting The Pace,
Catching Something,
Being In Front,
Being Vulnerable,
Being Uncomfortable,
Finding A Way,
Showing Others,
Proving Yourself,
Showing Others,
Being Better,
Being The Best,
Being Capable
Doing The Opposite,
Doing Things Differently,
Sticking To A Plan,
Changing,
Standing Out,
Flying Under The Radar,
Being Loud,
Doing Things You Know,
Having A Routine,
Impressing Others,
Telling Stories,
Knowing Facts,
Having Knowledge,
Knowing Things Others Don't,
Having Power,
Having Authority,
Leading,
Being Unique,
Showing Care,
Taking Care,
Being Careful,
Having Discipline,
Feeling Guilty,
Being Passionate,
Setting The Standard,
Getting Out Of Control,
Let Things Happen

Drew then asks:

What takes it [energy] away?

This is an amazing collection of thoughts gained from a life long rowing career. Each one strikes a chord and it is the culmination of everything you have experienced and learnt. Thanks Drew.

Congratulations on an amazing rowing career and all the best for new position as National Rowing Coach Integration. I can see you a going to challenge and mix things up. Good luck.

I have learned (by unknown)

I found the following piece while poking around Paulo Coelho's myspace page (he is on every social media site :-). Anyway, I like this and thought I would put it here to share as well as remember. What I have learned. There is much wisdom here:

I have learned (by author unknown) ..

• I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.


• I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people just don't care back;


• I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.


• I've learned that it's not what you have in your life but who you have in your life that counts;


• I've learned that you can get by on charm, for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better know something;


• I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to the best others can do.


• I've learned that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.


• I've learned that it's taking me a long time to become the person that I want to be.


• I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may b the last time you see them.


• I've learned that you can keep going long after you can't.


• I've learned that we are responsible for all we do, no matter how we feel.


• I've learned that either you control your attitude or it controls you.


• I've learned that no matter how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take it's place.


• I've learned that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.


• I've learned that money is a lousy way of keeping score.


• I've learned that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.


• I've learned that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're downhill are the ones to help you get back up.


• I've learned that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.


• I've learned that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.


• I've learned that just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean that they don't love you with all they have.


• I've learned that maturity had more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.


• I've learned that your family won't always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren't related to can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren't biological.


• I've learned that no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.


• I've learned that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to forgive yourself.


• I've learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for your grief.


• I've learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.


• I've learned that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.


• I've learned that we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.


• I've learned that you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.


• I've learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.


• I've learned that no matter how you try to protect your children, they will eventually get hurt and you will get hurt in the process.


• I've learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.


• I've learned that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.


• I've learned that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.


• I've learned that the people you care about the most in life are taken from you too soon.


• I've learned that it's hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice and not hurting people's feelings and standing up for what you believe.

'Angel's Hand and Wing' - A Church / Brussels - Europe 2009 - A Second Look - 11 Sep 2009 (picasa)

Inspiration - Joanna McClure - A Photo Editor (Thu 04 Apr 2013)

A Little Bit of Red (*) - Erskineville (Tue 02 Apr 2013)
A Little Bit of Red (*) - Detail - Erskineville (Tue 02 Apr 2013)
Joanna McClure (*) provides some insight On Inspiration (*) in her photography (*):

I find my inspiration (*) by looking for it. Anywhere.

I read constantly and this helps me develop images in my head. I constantly look at art (I am not married only to photography). I watch almost every movie that comes out. I am always searching for something to highten my sense of what is possible.

The other way I find inspiration (*) is through my work. Work begets work-an idea may come through experimenting with something and this diverges into something totally different.

Often my work starts out as an interest in texture, or how two materials work together.

via Art Producers Speak: Joanna McClure (*) by A Photo Editor (*).

I guess what finds it way here (*) is my inspiration (*), so, thanks Joanna for being part of that (*).

Also, for me maybe it is about Colour (*) and an apparent obsession with the colour Red (*).

On Remembering - Family Photographs - Colin Pantall (Tue 06 Nov 2012)

Orange - Asakusa Kannon Temple / Tokyo (Fri 21 Sep 2012)

Sometimes photography seems abstract, but then something happens that makes it concrete.
Colin Pantall (Tue 06 Nov 2012)

Sometimes you read an almost random post by someone you don't even know - you it find so pertinent and you are deeply touched and you learn something about life and yourself. Today is one such day ..

Colin Pantall (*) writes (*) on the passing of his Mother-in-Law, Elizabeth, last weekend:

I think it was a relief in some ways that she died, because she wasn't independent and it wasn't the way she wanted to live, but at the same time it was a massive shock. Not because of the death, but because of the passing of an era, the end of a living history. You can keep history alive in various ways, but when the person who witnessed it goes, it does spell the end of a chapter. It doesn't mean we should forget it, but there is still some part of a time that has gone. Things have moved on.

He also talks about how someone is remembered through photographs and our memories.

On Photography, he writes:

things are also preserved and the family album does this admirably. It's a shorthand of memory, of history, of an edited and at times idealised past, where certain things are hidden and certain things taken away - sometimes in retrospect. Even so, we still look at it quite objectively as something quite factual.

However, complementing the photos (if they were made and are available), there are the memories to draw upon and the cues (*) that inspire them:

But Elizabeth didn't have those old photos, so I wonder how she will be remembered. Just as words are sometimes better than photographs, so is food. I remember her Slovenian cooking, her gingerbread, her puddings, her cakes and so does my wife.

I have learnt that it is important to remember and in some ways this has become my life purpose (*). As Colin reminds us, there are photos as well as our memories - what we remember.

eljeiffel (*) for me is all these elements of remembering, remembering not only Jenny (*) and those that have gone before us, but my own legacy (*) - the scratches and fractures (even if it is just a couple of photographs of the colours orange and blue, and the hidden memories they evoked in me) I will leave on this world when I am gone.

Blue - Asakusa Kannon Temple / Tokyo (Fri 21 Sep 2012)

Premier Mixed Final - Chinese New Year 2008 - Dragon Boat Races - Darling Harbour (Sat 16 Feb 2008)

Premier Mixed Final - Chinese New Year 2008 - "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute,.." - Darling Harbour (Sat 16 Feb 2008)
Premier Mixed Final - Chinese New Year - "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute,.." - Darling Harbour (Sat 16 Feb 2008)
Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.
It’s Not About the Bike, published May 2000, Lance Armstrong

All Done!! - Premier Mixed Final - Chinese New Year - "..but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever." - Darling Harbour (Sat 16 Feb 2008)

All Done!! - Premier Mixed Final - Chinese New Year - Dragon ".. but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever." - Darling Harbour (Sat 16 Feb 2008)
Good luck to all this weekend, Chinese New Year 2011 - Year of the Rabbit.

The Warrior and regrets ..

The warrior knows an old saying: 'If regrets could kill…'

And he knows that regrets can kill; they slowly eat away at the soul of someone who has done something wrong and they lead eventually to self-destruction.

The warrior does not want to die like that. When he acts perversely or maliciously - because he is a man of many faults - he is never too ashamed to ask forgiveness.

If possible, he does his best to repair the wrong he has done. If the injured party is dead, then he does some good turn to a stranger and offers up that task to the soul that he wounded.

A warrior of light has no regrets, because regrets can kill. He humbles himself and undoes the wrong he has done.

Another passage from Paulo Coelho's - 'The Manual of the Warrior Light'.

If we have some regrets (founded or unfounded) about something (and we all do at times), then this is not a bad way to think about things. (Note: promise to write something different and more positive next time :-)

Veil - Newtown - 2 Apr 2008

Learning ..

Hidden in one of Drew Ginn's recent Blog Posts is this little piece on pushing yourself, motivation, challenges and learning - something I have done a lot of over the last 8-9 months. Thought I would pull it out here so that I can remember this great little piece of writing. Here it is:

[..] I learned to ride my rhythm, to find my own groove and to sit on the knife edge with fatigue, discomfort and sweat surrounding, penetrating and leaving me. At no stage was it intense like a rowing race or a super burst of effort. It was an experience in sustaining a level of force which body and mind was saying, 'BACK OFF'.

Like some sinister and shadowy creator holding an emotional gun to my head. Tempting as it might have been I had committed to the 7 days and on the last to having a great ride with heaps of challenge.

You could say I learned what I have learned before and now I have been reminded of it again.

Stretching and challenging is healthy. It requires us to keep pushing and to keep seeking motivation for why we would continue on. Why I asked my self on more than one occasion during the 7 days. Even as I spent the day at back home yesterday I was still asking why.

Placing your self in a challenging situation forces the questions to be asked.

I did this by going to Tassie to train with a good friend.

To train in a way which would force the questions to come thick and fast and they did and with each and every moment which one appeared I toiled and churned it around to cultivate and see what I would learn about self, others and the World I am in.

Again I say why? To learn is the only answer which I could find. To Learn, but why? It gives life.

Maybe. It brings clarity. Not always. It energises, YES, but it can also be draining.

Why then would I do any of this? Why would you? To be challenged is something which for sometime now I have said is a reason for my motivation. Maybe challenge is not enough.

Challenge without the acknowledgment of the learning required and needed is only one side of the coin. What happens if every time we toss it and it only ever landed on the challenge side.

We might assume that is all there is. Every stage, moment, event, session, day, hour and minute if challenged we might eventually find little else but a sense of seeking something which never ends.

Flipping the coin, the moment, experience and our perception can bring light to the other side or even sides. Maybe less a coin and more a cube it is with multiple sides and perspectives. A cube like RUBIX which starts out perfect with all colours separated on each side.

Then with everyday the play, the games, and events acting to jumble the cube until we finally realise it is rearranged.

How we feel about that becomes essential and what we do with it becomes simple a challenge. From this rearranged state we might begin to work to find the form or the essence of this box or cube. Learning to work with it in what ever state jumble or un-jumbled becomes important I think. Living with and learning from it. The challenge of it, the frustration and the joy.

So there it is I have gone away for 7 days of challenge which was more about learning than anything else.

Orange Bike - Toulouse - Fri 25 Sep 2009

On Understanding Photography - Anders Birger / disphotic (Mon 16 Feb 2014)

Untitled - Madrid (Sat 10 Aug 2013)
Anders Birger (*) writes photography (*):

If we want to change (*) something we need to understand (*) it better, and we don’t understand things better by looking at the same photographs again and again.

I find people who work with photography as a way to explore (*) something for themselves really interesting, it’s like if I can understand something I can make other people understand it and that seems much more important.

via Interview: Anders Birger (*) by disphotic (*).

Icarus - Paste Up - Newtown/Redfern (Dec 2010)

Icarus - Paste Up - Wilson Street / Newtown (Dec 2010)
This Paste-Up has been there for quite a while - it has virtually fallen apart. I have photographed it quite a few times over the last few months and there is another one in a small park off Little Eveleigh Street (see below). You can see the Green Bone Head I featured here recently (02 Dec 2010).

Each time I pass it, something has gone missing (i.e. various parts of her body) or there have been various additions via the caring use of coloured textas. She is now careful adorned with earrings and some more than necessary shoes.

I have had a lot fun watching and photographing this poster.

It has made me think about what may have inspired its creator to design this piece. For me, when I first saw it (it was the one in Little Eveleigh Street, which I pass it on the way to the gym), I instantly thought of Icarus of Greek Mythology fame. Icarus attempted to escape Crete using wings, made of feathers and wax, his craftsman father had made for him. Icarus did not heed his father's warnings to not fly too close to the sun or sea, and as a result of the wax melting from flying too close to the Sun, he plummetted to his death into the Icarian Sea.

The Myth has inspired many derivative works in all fields of the Arts, including a Poem by W. H. Auden, titled Musée des Beaux Arts (poem), which is named after the museum in Brussels that houses the painting Landscape with the Fall of Icarus by Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

For some reason the Poem and Painting have made me think a lot about what has happened over the last year and a half. Hard to explain but there is something there, particularly the painting where one can barely make out the legs of Icarus just after his impact with the water.

Life goes on ...

[Thank you to LottieP for technical advice on Icarus, the Poem and Painting. The shoes are for you LottieP.]

Icarus - Paste Up - Wilson Street / Newtown (Dec 2010)
Icarus - Paste Up - Wilson Street / Newtown (Dec 2010)
Icarus - Shoes - Paste Up - Wilson Street / Newtown (Dec 2010)
Icarus - Paste Up - Little Eveleigh Street / Redfern (Dec 2010)
Landscape with the Fall of Icarus by Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Musée des Beaux Arts (poem)
by W. H. Auden (1938).

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone by ThePoetryPost (06 Apr 2010)

On Street Photography - Jack Simon / Eric Kim Blog (Wed 23 Oct 2013)

Untitled - George Street / Sydney (Mon 21 Oct 2013)
Jack Simon (*) writes On Street Photography (*):

So when I am shooting spontaneously on the streets, I think it is random events that hit my eye. I might see something interesting and respond to it. Sometimes I know what I got, sometimes I think I got something good, but don’t. Sometimes it is a total surprise. I might take a photo of something very quickly, without being quite sure of everything going on. And in the editing process I can discover interesting things.

via Making a Fiction in the Mind of the Viewer: Interview with Jack Simon (*) by Eric Kim (*).

Untitled - George Street / Sydney (Mon 21 Oct 2013)

It's not about the Paddle

IT’S NOT ABOUT THE BIKE – LANCE ARMSTRONG

I read the following extract to Jenny twice while she was in Hospital in June 2009. The first time was two days after the surgery to remove a 4cm brain tumor. She listened intently - like a small child being read a fairy tale - while I struggled to remain composed, as I read it to her.

Jenny - St George Private Hospital - Sun 22 Jun 2009 (picasa)
The second time was in the Intensive Care Unit at St George following her "heart failure" episode 6 days earlier (Tue 23 Jun 2009) – a day before she left us on the 30 Jun 2009 at 9:16am. I think and hope she heard me. This little story for me is the essence of the Book, a book she treasured, and ultimately it reads as a "prophecy" for what would unfold in Prague in late August 2009 for Joanne and myself - hope this makes sense .. Geoff

Jenny, Joanne and Geoff - St George ICU - Sun 28 Jun 2009 (picasa)

IT’S NOT ABOUT THE BIKE – LANCE ARMSTRONG

If there is a defining characteristic of a man as opposed to a boy, maybe it's patience. In 1995, I finally gained an understanding of the demanding nature of the Tour [de France] and all of its extraordinary tests and dangers. I finished it, and I finished strong, winning a stage in the closing days. But the knowledge came at too high a price, and I would just as soon not have learned it the way I did.

Late in the race, our Motorola teammate, Fabio Casartelli, the 1992 Olympic champion, was killed on a high-speed descent. On a descent, you ride single file, and if one rider goes down, it can cause a terrible chain reaction. Fabio didn't crash alone; 20 riders went down with him. But he hit a curb with the back of his head and fractured his neck and skull.

I went by too fast to see much. A lot of riders were down, and everybody was crouched around someone lying on the ground, but you see that sort of thing a lot in the Tour. It was only a while later that I learned via the team radio what had happened: Fabio was dead. When they tell you something like that, you almost don't believe it.

It was one of the longest days of my life. Fabio was not only the young hope of Italian cycling, he was a new husband and a new father. His baby was just a month old.

Jenny and Geoff - Cape Leveque - 9 May 2001 (picasa)
We had to keep riding, to finish the stage even though we were distraught and sick with shock. I had known Fabio since I first started racing internationally in '91. He lived right outside of Como where I kept my apartment, and we had competed against each other at the Barcelona Olympics in '92, when he won the gold medal. He was a very relaxed, fun-loving man, a little goofy, a joker. Some of the top Italians were more serious, or macho, but Fabio wasn't like that. He was all sweetness.

That night we had a Motorola team meeting to discuss whether we should keep riding or not. We were split. Half of us wanted to quit and go home and cry with our families and friends, and half of us wanted to keep riding in honor of Fabio. Personally, I wanted to stop; I simply didn't think I had the heart to ride a bike. It was the first time I had encountered death, and genuine grief, and I didn't know how to handle it. But then Fabio's wife came to see us, and she said she wanted us to keep riding, because she felt that was what Fabio would have wanted. So we sat in the grass behind the hotel, said a few prayers, and decided to stay in.

Me and my Shadow - "an early start for the first day of the rest of my life" - 7am Wed 01 Jul 2009 (picasa)
The next day the peloton rode in honor of Fabio, and gave our team a ceremonial stage victory. It was another long, terrible day— eight hours on the bike, with everybody grieving. The peloton did not race. Instead we rode in quiet formation. It was virtually a funeral procession, and at last our team rode across the finish line, while, behind us, Fabio's bike was mounted atop the support car with a black ribbon.

The following morning we began the race again in earnest, and rode into Bordeaux. Next was a stage into Limoges, and that night, Och came around to our rooms and told the team that Fabio had had two goals in the Tour: he wanted to finish the race, and he especially wanted to try to win the stage into Limoges. As soon as Och stopped speaking I knew that if Limoges was the stage Fabio had wanted to win for himself, now I wanted to win it for him, and that I was going to finish the race.

About halfway through the next day's stage, I found myself grouped with 25 guys at the front - Indurain was in the yellow leader's jersey, riding at the back. I did what came most naturally to me: I attacked.

The problem was, I attacked too early, as usual. I went with 25 miles still to go, and on a downhill portion. Two things you never do: attack early, and on a downhill. But I went so fast on that downhill that I had a 30-second lead in a finger-snap. The other riders were completely taken aback. I could feel them wondering, What's he thinking?

What was I thinking? I had looked back, and saw guys were riding along, with no particular ambition. It was a hot day, and there was no incentive to pull hard, everyone was just trying to get closer to the finish line where the tactics would play out. I glanced back, and one guy was taking a sip of water. I glanced back again. Another guy was fixing his hat. So I took off. Peoooo. I was gone.

When you have 15 other guys back there from 15 different teams, they'll never get organized. They'll look at each other and say: You pull. No, you pull! So I went, and I went faster than I'd ever ridden. It was a tactical punch in the face, and it had nothing to do with strength or ability; everything depended on the initial shock and separation. It was insane, but it worked.

IDBF Senior Mixed 500m Final - 200m to go - "The Break" - "It was insane, but it worked" – Prague/Racice - Day 4 - 29 Aug 2009
Nobody got within 55 seconds of me again. The team support car kept coming up and giving me reports. Henny Kuiper, our team director, would say, "You're thirty seconds up." Then a few minutes later he'd come alongside again and say, "You're forty-five seconds up."

When he came up the third or fourth time, I said, "Henny, don't come up here anymore. I'm not getting caught."

"Okay, okay, okay," he said, and faded behind my wheel.

I didn't get caught.

I won by a minute, and I didn't feel a moment's pain. Instead I felt something spiritual; I know that I rode with a higher purpose that day. Even though I had charged too early, I never suffered after I broke away. I would like to think that was Fabio's experience too; he simply broke away and separated from the world. There is no doubt in my mind that there were two riders on that bike. Fabio was with me.

Senior Mixed 500m Final - "Instead I felt something spiritual; I know that I rode with a higher purpose that day." Lance A - "Don't Wonder 'What If?'" Jenny P – Prague/Racice - Day 4 - 29 Aug 2009
I felt an emotion at the finish line that I've never experienced again. I felt I was winning for Fabio and his family and his baby, and for the mourning country of Italy. As I came across the line I glanced upward and I pointed to the heavens, to Fabio.

World Champs - Australian Senior Mixed 500m Team - "As I came across the line I glanced upward and I pointed to the heavens" Lance A – Prague/Racice - Day 4 - 29 Aug 2009

After the Tour, Och had a memorial built for Fabio. He commissioned a sculptor from Como to execute a work in white Carrara marble. The team flew in from all over the world, and we gathered at the top of the mountain for the placement of the memorial and the dedication ceremony. The memorial had a sundial on it that shone on three dates and times: his birthday, the day he won the Olympic Games, and the day he died.

Geoff and Joanne at Fabio’s Memorial - we stumbled upon it by complete accident – Col de Portet d'Aspet - Thu 24 Sep 2009 [1] (picasa)
I had learned what it means to ride the Tour de France. It's not about the bike. It's a metaphor for life, not only the longest race in the world but also the most exalting and heartbreaking and potentially tragic. It poses every conceivable element to the rider, and more: cold, heat, mountains, plains, ruts, flat tires, high winds, unspeakably bad luck, unthinkable beauty, yawning senselessness, and above all a great, deep self-questioning. During our lives we're faced with so many different elements as well, we experience so many setbacks, and fight such a hand-to-hand battle with failure, head down in the rain, just trying to stay upright and to have a little hope. The Tour is not just a bike race, not at all. It is a test. It tests you physically, it tests you mentally, and it even tests you morally.

I understood that now. There were no shortcuts, I realized. It took years of racing to build up the mind and body and character, until a rider had logged hundreds of races and thousands of miles of road. I wouldn't be able to win a Tour de France until I had enough iron in my legs, and lungs, and brain, and heart. Until I was a man. Fabio had been a man. I was still trying to get there.

[1] I would like to think the two shadows on the “Wings” of the Memorial represent the spirit of Jenny and her life as a twin with Joanne.. There we are, Joanne and I, counterpoised by the twin shadows of the Joanne and Jenny. Jenny overlooks us and is there with us, Always.

Jenny - "looking out over us - she inspires and guides us from above" - Geoff E - Wolfe Creek Crater, WA - 22 May 2001"

Jenny, Geoff, Joanne - St George - 22 Aug 2006