Life Worth Living For

I finally managed to conclude on the book I picked up a couple of months back, Mennonite in a Little Black Dress (A Memoir of Going Home), written by Rhoda Janzen. And yes, I probably might not pick up a book written by a female writer again, especially when its about their failed marriages. The book reeked of bitterness and loads of ranting, at the same time about how she coped after her husband of 15 years left her for Bob. Yes, a guy he got to know from gay website.


There were lessons abundant I have to admit. But I picked the book with the genre that I cant appreciate that well. It did gave me an understanding of what Mennonite was and what the culture is like. I had absolutely no idea what or who the Mennonites were prior this.


More importantly, life's mistakes that we can make and how we learn from them. And of how we should pick ourselves up from calamities and how important family support can be.


A concluding section that struck a chord with me:


"That night I watched Eva and Jonathan put the girls to bed. This process involved two stories, two songs and elaborate combinations of kisses among siblings, parents and stuffed animals. As Eva and Jonathan harmonised a made-up song in the darkened bedroom, I found myself blinking back tears. It wasnt because this was a scene I would never know. I had no regrets on that front; I had made my decision, and I was at peace with it. It was more because I suddenly felt destiny as a mighty and perplexing force, an inexorable current that sweeps if off into new channels. Here was Eva, who could have made such different choices with her education and career path. Here was I, with my decades of restless travel, my brilliant but tortured ex-husband. And how sad it suddenly seemed to be buffeted by the powerful currents to which we had yielded our lives. So many years had passed. My childhood, my early friendships, my long marriage, all seemed to hang from an invisible thread, like the papery wasps' nest outside my study window. I had watched the lake winds swinging and tipping it, expecting it to go down, but it never did. Memory swayed like that nest - hidden but present, fragile yet strong, attached by an unseen force to perpetual motion."


I would want my memories be filled with joy and may they be pleasant ones for my family and friends. Because even though memories are a figment of our frail minds, they can be very imposing on ourselves and others around us. Since God had given us this chance to live, how will you want to live it with meaning?


And in Rhoda's words:


"I sometimes ask my college students if they think its possible for a thirty plus adult to experience saltatory ideological change. I tell them that i's not talking about the kind of gradual mellowing that results from age. Nor do I mean the kind of abrupt character fissure that opens in the wake of trauma or suffering. Rather, I want to know what they think about the possibility of a profound, lasting change that emerges from an act of deliberated, conscious self-determination. I want to know if they think we can change our core assumptions about what wer believe. About how we believe.
...
Can a skeptic ever be anything but a skeptic? Can a loner ever come to cherish groupthink? It was sobering to think that Eva's and my lives, so similar in potential and core interests, had taken such different turns, and that the only place they could ever intersect would be in the liminal space of childhood, or in the theoretical no-man's-land of alterity."

***

Collected my race pack for Newton 30km run yesterday. Number was nice. 0005! Never had a number that was single digit before. Makes me look like a pro - just like the professional's race in the ironman! BUT a far cry from it, I must say.


Did my 1hour pool session with the blokes from Trifam Monday squad. I was feeling good despite the weekend's long sessions. I suppose the Subway sandwich at 4pm gave me enough fuel. Yup, Subway has been my constant companion for a while already. Funny that I had never liked sandwiches before. And during my 1st trip to Perth in 2008, I simply refused to eat it and insisted on proper food despite the fact that the whole family was hungry and that Subway was the only place opened in the small outskirt town. And now? A meal is a footlong and tea break is a 6-inch.


I was a massive meat eater in the past and totally do NOT touch vegetables, for 35 years of my life. But ever since picking up triathlons, it has been a complete switch. Single portion of meat, double portion of fish, vegetables and beans. Even my wife has noticed the drastic change. Be it for triathlon or family sake, its a nice change in lifestyle for the benefit of myself. No, I am not seeking to live till 120 years old. I just want to live my life to the fullest with meaning.

***

SAFRA did not have my time for the half marathon. Apparently timing chip registered only at 2 check points. So the "official" timing was 1:58:30 but I suspect that was the calculated base on gun start. Anyway, since the variation was just a mere 15s, it shall be fine.