I've bought the gear, the running gear that is. A branded pair of leggings and running trainers and they are used from time to time.
And recently, I plucked up the courage to squeeze myself into those spandex of tights, squeezing my cellulite thighs into them and attempted to run in broad daylight. I must say when I see an overweight individual running alongside the common, I think it is wonderful. I cheer them on in my head but then I see their hanging bellies chugging along and wonder if that is me.
Am I one of those out of breath runners people stare at in pity? I mean last saturday morning I barely ran half a mile. For about 10 minutes, I ran halfway to the common from my house, walked the rest, well into the park, put on my mean mug and jogged, slowly. Is that jogging or walking really fast with a spring to your step? No, it was jogging because I did break into a sweat after a while.
After 3 minutes, I stopped. I couldn't breathe. I really don't know how to breathe when I am running and I did scour the net for techniques beforehand. I typed in the search engine "how to breathe when running"..."breathing + running + stretching + warm up...". Evidently, none of the advice worked and my research later on revealed, I had a headache because my brain was starved of oxygen.
Closing my mouth and breathing through my nose proved challenging, especially when a stitch decided to pierce my side and ran through it. Never mind my knees. I stand at 5 ft 7. Not tall enough but enough to struggle with appropriating a decent stride. How do you do that? How does one jogg effectively, better yet, properly?
I need a trainer.
I have some questions.
How long do you run for when it's your first time?
How do you force yourself to continue?
How do you run without headphones in your ears and stay motivated?
How do you run without thinking of the many passer-bys staring at your wobbly ass? I know they do it because I do it too.
I think most of these questions are self conscious issues and motivational problems I need to tackle and it can only be dealt with when I run.
However, I was proud of my 5 -10 minutue half jog. It's Wednesday. I might even try and jog this evening. As long as it's dog free and it doesn't slobber over my spandex. Yes, that happened!
Kosi
DISCLAMER:
IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED READING AMERICANNAH BY CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHE. EXIT
THIS PAGE NOW!!!
I
have mourned the ending of Americannah and I have carried the characters with
me. Now I am psychoanalysing my life, relationships and job prospects in the
eyes of Ifemelu, affectionately shortened to Ifem. I remember the calmness of
Obinze in past lovers and ache for a union such as theirs. In fact, I have
almost come to despise the main characters because their love story seemed realistic and somehow they managed to triumph over their obstacles in an inception(al) ending
– get it? (Terrible. I know) This is something I am yet to experience and truthfully I am closest to that of Aunty Uju and Kosi.
Kosi is the nonchalant wife to Obinze in later what can be described as an unhappy marriage. I entitled this piece Kosi because I am all for the underdog. We all root for the
underdog from time to time, the person who has all odds stacked against them
but you are supportive regardless. Think Arsenal fan, you’re out of the premier
league, Chelsea are to play against Queen Park Rangers (QPR); you root for QPR, the underdog.
I am
not a pretentious housewife and I am aware this story
is fictional but I still rooted for Kosi. I deliberately tried to like her and
identify with Kosi. I imposed her story on myself; the housewife who is fully aware she has bought into a dream that her husband never wanted.
Why?
As much as I love to play devil's advocate and run to the defence of others. I
think sometimes we deem ourselves undeserving of fairy-tale endings. We
know we are settling or whatever feelings we have for a certain person may not be
mutual but we stay anyway because it’s the ‘right’ thing to do or we are satisfied with what we have. Kosi likes her
life but is insecure within a limited kind of love (check out James Blake)
and guards her marriage ruthlessly (no single ladies allowed in her house) but
she is hopeful. I do not pity Kosi’s character; I get it. These love stories in
books and in movies are hardly going to translate into reality, so why
bother myself with the complexities of it, isn't life complicated enough
already?
Kosi
may not have been an intellectually inclined ambitious career woman and all she seemed to be was a domestic goddess with
a pretty face and that is enough for some. I believe Adichie was tackling the cultural landscape of Nigeria, which stamps on their women this notion that your ultimate goal in life is marriage and children, to be a helper to your mate; compromising personal gratification for an image. I believe the character Kosi, knew of the other types of women who defy those ideas and fight against those traditional beliefs which she chose not to challenge. Sometimes it is enough to be neutral, to "sit on the
fence" and excuse one for not being opinionated enough. It is also acceptable to hold opposing views. Kosi knows what she wanted, a comfortable life and she got it. Only that her husband expected her to suddenly change from her self-absorbed materialistic self ,after they married and wounded up not unhappy but not entirely sure of his marriage.
I
rooted for Kosi even though I wouldn't necessarily follow her idea of what a marriage or what life in general should be like. For all the Kosi(s) out there…not willing to
politicise everything and would rather stay glamorous and cook, find yourself a
mannish 1950s somebody and runaway from indecisive romantics like Obinze.
There are plenty of men out there who want you to be subdued and mild. But
thank God towards the end, Obinze realised that Kosi wasn’t some empty headed
bimbo, she had some intuition and in fact it takes a certain amount of
intelligence to watch all the bullshit go down and still hold it together. We
said our vows, now let us be miserable together.
I mean…I rooted for Kosi, the wife but mistresses and past lovers be
winning.
Let Hair
Tolani walked up the grey and yellow tinted steps, holding firmly to the bus' bright yellow banister. Despite taking caution, her legs failed her as she smashed into the grey plastic surface behind a seat.
One of those days Tolani thought to herself gritting her teeth, closing her eyes shut and willing the pain to exhume itself from her knee. The bus continued to jerk around as it was met with speed bumps. She didn't bother to pick up her bag. She just watched the worn green handles bounce around in a synchronised fashion, wondering if the left and extremely frayed handle would make it through the day.
"St Matthews Church". The bus announced solemnly. "Late, late again." Tolani murmured to herself.
"My menopausal state and uninspiring first from Newnham College has not prepared me for your perpetual lateness and phenomenal display of disorganisation..." Mrs. C's rants were legendary. Tolani was either going to be her next target or faced with a locked door.
Clambering down the stairs in an attempt to catch her next bus. Pop! Tolani lifted her bag off the ground and held on tightly to it, clenching her underarms in race for the number 2. 10 minutes to the gate she thought as her phone vibrated, indicating her final bar had disappeared and was left with a blinking red outline. Breathing deeply, a Herbal Essence mist wafted past her. A lady had unraveled her bun. She watched as the woman tosseled her hair about and proceeded in styling it back to its original state. Tolani stared therapeutically as she caught all the escaping strands until all she saw was the brown spiral, and then finally a glossy brown patch of colour which soon became a blur.
"Upper Tulse Hill..." the bus cooed mockingly. Tolani squeezed passed the passengers and headed for the gates. She ignored the front desk's glare and walked briskly but had to stop to readjust her bag. Thankfully the classroom door was locked and she headed for the toilets.
"I look so tired..." she whispered, analysing her reflection, clear face, bags, wonky eyeliner and hair, just hair, a lot of it. "Grrr!" Tolani growled. No glossy strands here. Her bun wasn't straight, her hair was a combination of regrowth, riddled with thinning permed split ends. Pulling out her hairband painfully, the elastic etched away by her brittle hair.
POP!
"For fuck sakes!" Tolani exclaimed. Walking over to the radiator, bent over looking for a spare hairband. None today I guess. Only me. Leaning back to stretch as she held on to her hips, making sure she heard at least 3 cracks before she continued to drag her fingers into her thick entangled hair. You know what? I can't be asked. Tolani stormed out of the bathroom and returned shortly after to collect her bag.
"St Matthews Church". The bus announced solemnly. "Late, late again." Tolani murmured to herself.
"My menopausal state and uninspiring first from Newnham College has not prepared me for your perpetual lateness and phenomenal display of disorganisation..." Mrs. C's rants were legendary. Tolani was either going to be her next target or faced with a locked door.
Clambering down the stairs in an attempt to catch her next bus. Pop! Tolani lifted her bag off the ground and held on tightly to it, clenching her underarms in race for the number 2. 10 minutes to the gate she thought as her phone vibrated, indicating her final bar had disappeared and was left with a blinking red outline. Breathing deeply, a Herbal Essence mist wafted past her. A lady had unraveled her bun. She watched as the woman tosseled her hair about and proceeded in styling it back to its original state. Tolani stared therapeutically as she caught all the escaping strands until all she saw was the brown spiral, and then finally a glossy brown patch of colour which soon became a blur.
"Upper Tulse Hill..." the bus cooed mockingly. Tolani squeezed passed the passengers and headed for the gates. She ignored the front desk's glare and walked briskly but had to stop to readjust her bag. Thankfully the classroom door was locked and she headed for the toilets.
"I look so tired..." she whispered, analysing her reflection, clear face, bags, wonky eyeliner and hair, just hair, a lot of it. "Grrr!" Tolani growled. No glossy strands here. Her bun wasn't straight, her hair was a combination of regrowth, riddled with thinning permed split ends. Pulling out her hairband painfully, the elastic etched away by her brittle hair.
POP!
"For fuck sakes!" Tolani exclaimed. Walking over to the radiator, bent over looking for a spare hairband. None today I guess. Only me. Leaning back to stretch as she held on to her hips, making sure she heard at least 3 cracks before she continued to drag her fingers into her thick entangled hair. You know what? I can't be asked. Tolani stormed out of the bathroom and returned shortly after to collect her bag.
A Wedding Song
It's a day before my friend's wedding...I'm not sure whether I'll be called up to sing but this is what I have thus far...
I crossed an ocean, I crossed a river to get to you
It's written in the stars, it was inevitable
The people I meet the paths that I cross
And I still found you...
It's sounds good when sung I guess lol
I crossed an ocean, I crossed a river to get to you
It's written in the stars, it was inevitable
The people I meet the paths that I cross
And I still found you...
It's sounds good when sung I guess lol
The To do List of Life
I guess I've pretty much neglected this blog but I'm back...
I've been writing for Afriversal, a blog about all things African in the UK. Check it out!
But I definitely have a lot more to write about and this is where my new project comes in.
The 'To Do List' of Life is a concept I recently came up with. Yup, I had a light bulb moment and this is normally where my problems begin...I have an idea.
I thing we all have a long list of things we want to do, whether it be a SMART goal, dreams and aspirations we haven't gotten round to yet. My 'To do list' is endless and I guess I overwhelm myself because I want to do everything and I can...but there is a time and a place...
I am creating a subsidiary site dedicated to this project...noting my milestones in completing these tasks.
I'm not talking about taking out the trash or finally getting round to cleaning my room (will never happen...I need mess to work...but I do take out the rubbish). I'm talking major projects like completing one of my short stories, going to the studio and recording a song...learning how to sew a dress out of the material my sister bought from India type of tasks.
As you might have gathered, I am the artsy and creative type and I am bursting with ideas but it takes me a while to get to end product or I get a little frustrated and postpone but not anymore! I plan to be diligent for the rest of the year and actually finish some of these projects.
So follow me on my journey, tweet me...tumble your way into my life...facebook...call...bbm. me...comment and support me on my journey.
More details to come shortly.
Amusan
Oracle
In between awake and sleep, I fall into my dreams
Bigger than you, wider than me
More accurate than tarot cards; trick or treat?
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
My predictions are as good as the scriptures
Would you rather Aesop's fables or the book of
Proverbs
What's a teenage mother to the fatherless?
What's a history lesson to a politician's promise?
It takes more than gene pools to break a bad habit
Fear and hope assures your own demise
Faith and action is your only compromise
The probable game of life:
Capable of anything and everything
Prophecy or encouragement?
Delusion or conviction?
Full circle, the end is absolute
Miracles are for desperate people
Desperately wicked lies in all of us
It creeps up on the unexpected, a circumstance
Machines are not enough so God is not enough
The lines on your palms are not a coincidence
What’s incense to a fume?
What’s the church hall to my crystal ball?
The Legacy
Life is so unbalanced, biased and unfair.
You can have everything and yet have nothing.
You can have nothing and yet have everything.
And you know what pisses me off the most? The flapping of gums, chiming away about this old legacy. If the wisest man on earth reduced everything in life to vanity, why continue?
Legacy is a lazy motherfucker...passing through the airwaves of time. She or he comes in many shapes and sizes, evolving constantly. She reinvents herself daily and is hidden in the hearts and minds of many. Legacy is imprinted on the hands of fathers and in the mouths of mothers. And I am freaking annoyed by her.
Legacy, wherever you are in my, heart, mind, soul, potential grave or my future generation's memory. You are parasitic, unpredictable and an opportunist. Am I supposed to spend 70 % of my time worrying about making enough for spoilt grandchildren to brag about aimlessly.
Legacy I leave with nothing. I toil day and night for my name to be remembered by a world that forgets so easily. The only person that will appreciate me is the earth herself. The soil. The ground. Something we despise, we protect ourselves from, forgetting that she is one us. In fact she is merely a misshaped and a devalued distant cousin.
I am jealous of you, Legacy. You are nothing but sound particles escaping through air. Even if I built a magnificent sculpture tomorrow, my hands are nothing but a concept, an idea or an imagination. I myself will not meet the people I would have inspired. But you Legacy, you receive all the accolades. You hang gloriously on walls, sit gracefully in museums, your name is written down in examination papers and adopted by surviving relatives.
Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for those who have inspired me; passing on their legacy. I'll work hard, I'll use my talents, push the bar, boundaries, glass ceiling whatever the challenge may be, so that I'll be a mere shadow of the past. I will be one of many who made it past the delivery room, as we watch you from afar as you adorn our long awaited trophies.
I've decided my mantra in life is that it all amounts to nothing...flat line...0. Except of course, if you are into the legacy thing. Yet I am still looking for an experience of a lifetime. In the moment, within the hour, day, month or years to come. I want to enjoy life. I don't want to look back and say "...oh by the way this is what I've accomplished..". I want to experience every god given moment and know I've lived for at least a mili second. It may be 0 but you make it count, you add up the numbers.
All in all. Live. Love. Laugh.
Amusan.
You can have everything and yet have nothing.
You can have nothing and yet have everything.
And you know what pisses me off the most? The flapping of gums, chiming away about this old legacy. If the wisest man on earth reduced everything in life to vanity, why continue?
Legacy is a lazy motherfucker...passing through the airwaves of time. She or he comes in many shapes and sizes, evolving constantly. She reinvents herself daily and is hidden in the hearts and minds of many. Legacy is imprinted on the hands of fathers and in the mouths of mothers. And I am freaking annoyed by her.
Legacy, wherever you are in my, heart, mind, soul, potential grave or my future generation's memory. You are parasitic, unpredictable and an opportunist. Am I supposed to spend 70 % of my time worrying about making enough for spoilt grandchildren to brag about aimlessly.
Legacy I leave with nothing. I toil day and night for my name to be remembered by a world that forgets so easily. The only person that will appreciate me is the earth herself. The soil. The ground. Something we despise, we protect ourselves from, forgetting that she is one us. In fact she is merely a misshaped and a devalued distant cousin.
I am jealous of you, Legacy. You are nothing but sound particles escaping through air. Even if I built a magnificent sculpture tomorrow, my hands are nothing but a concept, an idea or an imagination. I myself will not meet the people I would have inspired. But you Legacy, you receive all the accolades. You hang gloriously on walls, sit gracefully in museums, your name is written down in examination papers and adopted by surviving relatives.
Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for those who have inspired me; passing on their legacy. I'll work hard, I'll use my talents, push the bar, boundaries, glass ceiling whatever the challenge may be, so that I'll be a mere shadow of the past. I will be one of many who made it past the delivery room, as we watch you from afar as you adorn our long awaited trophies.
I've decided my mantra in life is that it all amounts to nothing...flat line...0. Except of course, if you are into the legacy thing. Yet I am still looking for an experience of a lifetime. In the moment, within the hour, day, month or years to come. I want to enjoy life. I don't want to look back and say "...oh by the way this is what I've accomplished..". I want to experience every god given moment and know I've lived for at least a mili second. It may be 0 but you make it count, you add up the numbers.
All in all. Live. Love. Laugh.
Amusan.
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