In one year of my life I have felt the nervous rustle of joy that comes from seeing two little pink lines on an over the counter plastic stick, three times. And three times I have felt the uncontrollable urge to free-fall that comes from losing them. I've had three miscarriages over the course of one small year. I've been hesitant to write about this - in fact, after my second miscarriage in December, I felt completely blocked, unable to find the words to express how I was feeling, and consequently unable to write about anything. What I needed most desperately, was to just 'get on with it'.
I mentioned to Gerry’s Head of Technology yesterday that I was hoping to get some good swimming in while in Sydney. The people here seem to live in their speedos (when not in sailing jumpers and Sperry topsiders), so I figured it best to ask a local. I should have thought about that further. This is the same guy who hosted us on his J24 racing sailboat on the harbor on Sunday -- from the boat club to the fish market for a bite and some wine and then ... then the rain came. This sailor wasn’t going to let a bit of downpour get in the way of his afternoon plans. We spent the next 3 hours, rain pouring off our faces and soaking what little clothing I had brought along, “sailing” to the Northern end of the harbor to get the full tour. It was fantastic, albeit soggy, but I was marathon worthy beat by the time we reached the club and docked up.
This hit my inbox at 6:47AM. It’s taken a few hours and several cups of coffee to gather the courage to consider doing it. But the sun is out and it’s going to be a good long while before I can dip my toes in San Juan waters, so -- here’s to a day of swimming (eek! and running!). I’m going to attack in reverse so I have an extra half hour of ferry time en route to Manly to contemplate my folly. The swim/run/walk distance is roughly 10k. Let’s hope all my hiking up Turtleback Mountain has buffered my endurance levels.