Free Range Chickster

GOING TO THE WAREHOUSE TO BUY TOGS

 My GPS is a masterful god.

Without him I am nothing.

He can be unpredictable but mostly he stays by my side and holds steady.

And with him to lead me through,

I am powerful too.

We are going to the Warehouse to buy togs.

I want to do aqua jogging.

We ride together around this foreign city, a pair of misfits.

But he is smarter than me

And not easily distracted.

I have found that most other gods are - easily distracted I mean.

I’ve put my heart in lots of other gods and had it pulled out, bleeding, by the sinewy stretchy tentacles

They stretch but still hold it in.

And so I lay down, I gave up,

I left my bleeding heart to mend itself.

It’s like carrying a piece of steak on your shoulder, slippery and messy but still there.

If I could live my life again, oh my fractured grief pierced life,

how different it would be.

Well, that’s what I tell myself

but maybe I would make all those mistakes again

or find fresh ways to wound myself.

Find other bigger steaks to shoulder to as I go.

I never thought I was a writer

I never thought I was a runner but I came to be both.

Now I’m going to be an aqua jogger.

I know I promised not to be a pretentious poetry bore but this is just a little poem and with a little story. As most of you know, I love to walk and have been the most busty bust of robust person and walked my legs off all over the world. So – just before I came to Dunedin and after I got Covid (blame Covid for everything),  I was being a bit over-active in the gym and damaged by back.

It was a terrible drama and involved A&E and a lot of drugs. I discovered the mind bending of Tramadol and Amitriptyline – gosh, you could really get to like them. I especially like the Tramadol which completely blocks the pain and makes life seem a little bit sparkly. I only took them for a day, but that was enough for me. Then it was Panadol, Panadol, Panadol.  But the upshot, after the pain subsided, was that my left foot was numb and I found it difficult to walk - a drama of major proportions for a walky person like me.

So what’s a girl to do ?– physio, ostio, sauvignon blancio, swim in the poolio.

This meant an expedition to buy togs. It turns out to be quite difficult in Dunedin. There is obviously not too much call for togs right now and my options were rather limited.  I ended up with some togs, in which, the sight of me should have been enough to clear the pool, or at least strike somebody blind.

But they are a forgiving lot down here, no one blinked an eyelid or anything else as I seamlessly slipped the lumpy black togs filled with large new bits of me under the cover of the cool chlorine-clear water and bounced around in the friendly aqua fit class.

I am discovering so many different and fantastic things about Dunedin and myself. The pool is wonderful. Always warm, always busy and filled with hardy friendly people walking round in crocs and speedos. And springy children bouncing off diving boards and chatty ladies basking in the warm spa pool in equally lumpy looking togs and not giving a shit.  It’s really great.

The triple joys of Moana Pool and aqua jogging and swimming 25 lengths for fun. I’m sure my foot is improving but for an hour in the pool, I get to forget about it (and think about how I’m going on a diet instead). And oh yes-  the reason why I’m here- think about a few stories I might write.

 PS The fabulous photo is sunrise at St Clair beach - I mean I was hardly going to put up a photo of the togs was I????