Inspiration, part deux

I’m returning to the theme ‘inspiration’. On my morning run with the dogs, I once again was given the chance to think. Strange how this daily slot enables the mind to function: your heart pumping, legs in motion, ears and fingers cold, feet crunching in the snow, eyes about three metres ahead looking for trouble. And yet, the mind freely wanders.

We have been plagued by bad internet connection this last 24 hrs, and yet it’s a freedom forced upon you. One of the last messages I got yesterday was from Pete. ‘I've written my first page of a Blog - you've inspired me - http://petesinspain.blogspot.com/’ and then my line to the outside world went dark. Me give inspiration? Crumbs – it’s usually the other way round. But what is it that we find inspiring in others? Yes, their actions, but what of the mind? Is it blind determination? Eloquence? Wisdom? Humour? Courage?

My world surrounds me with daily inspiration. My mind wandered whilst watching Tasky run alongside me, his head completely level, so level his bear bell around his neck was still. Yet his legs pumped in fantastic motion.  He and Bonny have a focused zest on activity. Inspirational.  I’m opting not to mention names, but my buddies have all inspired me – some have endured destructive divorces, some thrown out of their marriage and surviving with a smile. Some have repaired marriage splits. Some continue to nurse their sick but deeply loved children on a daily basis, ensuring a quality of life which was otherwise out of reach. Selfless actions.  Peter (as opposed to Pete) sent me a link of a guy who completed the Ironman (swim, cycle, run) with his wheelchair bound son. The image of him swimming in the lake his son in tow in a rubber dingy haunts me. Inspiration or what? I digress slightly. My buddies. Some, despite their Eeyore outlook battle through every missile thrown at them, and still continue to stand tall. Some find life simply damn hard, yet remain alive. Many have come through bereavement. That’s tough. My former work colleagues in Leeds, bar none, and all my UK buddies - I think of them often, despite being away from them all, and miss them dearly. Irreplaceable. Uniquely inspirational.

For me, inspiration is about focus, for without this talent goes nowhere. Focus requires dedication, determination and bloody mindedness. Yes, my buddies all have these qualities. Do I? I believe I have little talent, but I can focus. Natasha has had to pick up the sugar depleted mess at the end of events she has supported me in. She inspires me. So perhaps inspiration is not only about focus, but having the ability to bring it all together, which presumably involves others – teamwork maybe. Lest we forget those who enable, for without the team, the individual cannot perform.

I have learned in life that it is way easier to give than to receive. So I’ll gracefully acknowledge Pete’s words. Thanks, and I’m glad that I have inspired you!

Tim
ps we were off-line for 6 days. How crap is that?!

my favourite season

I am really enjoying my running at the moment. Its great being injury free – long may it last. My blog is proving a real success, now double the following. One being me the other being Robert from Tyneside. Same name as a teenage friend of mine. Scottish, and my mum never liked him. Wonder what he doing now?

On Sunday, my hamstrings were horribly tight after what I thought was an unprompted speed session along our rail-trail, so last night I thought I’d just go out for a simple jog (not a word I enjoy using as it conjures up images I’d prefer not to disclose). Anyway, what I did not bank on was winter. By ‘eck did it rain! I did not know where I was running, as I opted to run in from a nearby town, Nakusp, as the winter tyres were being fitted to the car and truck. So for an hour, I jogged with the dogs (off lead where possible, though Tasky played deer investigations for 10 long minutes. He came back covered in bush, looking quite pleased with himself – quite a comical sight for sure). Id forgotten what horizontal, cold wet winter rain felt like. But there is something about running in the rain which appeals to the soul and heart. I love it. I feel brave, adventurous; doing something that no-body else is doing on a night that most others are tucked up safe indoors.  It snowed on the drive back home, and the dogs peered up over the back seat wondering what I was giggling at, with a big childish Tim grin. Winter!!

It’s strange how memories fade. I have been watching the snow level descend over the past weeks, this lowering white veil slowly enveloping the landscape. It’s like nature fore-play: teasing, enticing, exciting. But, true to life, what fore-play masks are the pitfalls: blizzards, storms, power cuts, snow clearing, cold fingers, impossible night drives. In many ways, though, that’s the likeable challenge of winter, my favourite season.

Bonny and Tasky disappeared again this morning whilst I was shoveling in crush rock into the truck from some disused road maintenance site. Bonny came back with a foot in her mouth, seemingly asking permission to take it home. A deers foot, with a large portion of the leg attached. Tasky had one too. The more grizzly side to living in a semi remote area in North America. Hunters. Could I do it? No. But is it a more sustainable form of meat production? Probably, yes. It is bad enough dealing with half dead mice in the house, whose liking for pecan nuts in the mouse trap gets the better of them.

I’ve been scratching my head on how I can use a sentence sent to me in an email this last week, by a local villager. I have failed, but it’s a cracker. So here is my email sentence of the week. May it make the women of the world laugh!

“I'm sad that being a male means he is only good for meat.”

Tim