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What Does Brain Fog Have to do With It?

For years now, I have asked myself this very question and haven’t come up with a satisfactory answer. Sure I’ve understood for a long time that food has a real impact on organs such as the liver, kidneys, the heart. But, not the brain. Honestly!

Lucky for me,  I have found some answers now,  even if searching took me through a dramatic experience or two. Read more about what I discovered about brain fog in my latest Huffington Post blog, and also how to manage it. Thank goodness, the fog has lifted.

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Seeing what’s in the Timing

As a local, I often look at what meets the eye, nothing more.  And now and again, I don’t even do that. I scan areas and attractions, rather fleetingly. But recently in keeping with the running with sense theme, I thought I’d pay more attention to my surroundings and how wonderful it was to discover new characteristics of the Thames Path.

But surprisingly, I found it hard to focus without interruption from my other senses, so instead of banging out a blog after one running session, I gave it three. Not to mention the backlog of work for my new website and latest book, The Seasons, both coming soon! Watch this space.

Anyhow, the most distracting of all of the senses was hearing. Having ditched the iPhone to listen up sensibly, all I could seemingly do was hear the sounds of helicopters, airplanes, buses, cars, even people humming away.  To this end, I shut my eyes briefly, thinking I could block them out, but only made the sounds louder and also nearly lost my balance. Thankfully, I recovered quickly, even if I was dizzy.

Thus on the second morning, I stayed wide-eyed, no matter what, and lo and behold I made an interesting discovery. It was all in the timing.

By 8 o’clock London is pretty much wide awake and in this state, the city is noisy, but still sleepy in the earlier hours, London is serene and far more noticeable by sight, at least the distance I run on the Thames Path whether towards Putney or Battersea.

While the sky, even in its greyness, seems calm, so does the river, even if it is rushing and swirling. Meanwhile a single bird flies low and speculates, too. And cyclists, runners and walkers move easily.

The commuters seem more polite to one another, mimicking you first, I insist while approaching the river bus, the bus, the train

And the beautiful luxury houseboats on The Thames look picture perfect, too. Even the skyscrapers in the distance look inviting and not steely as they can in the midst of the day.

This morning, I noticed a cat scampering about in silence. Imagine! Also, I saw a dog or two prancing and smiled to myself, understanding the phrase puppy dog eyes. And then tick tock went the clock and cyclists came tearing down the path, tooting their horns, and mothers and fathers scrambled to keep up with their scooting children, and runners tried to stay out of the way, me included.

Finally at the finish line, I stopped to stretch and take in the fresh air and realised that I was distracted, already getting ahead to feeling. Thus, I fixed my eyes on the river. Captivated by its life, the water looking like silk flesh as it ebbed and flowed, a lone duck riding it, I couldn’t help grunting when I felt a pain in my leg. Thrown out of the scenery, yet again, I gave in to feeling. That’s next week’s assignment. Stay tuned.

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Listening Up and Running With Sense

My iPhone has been my running companion for the two years that I have taken up running rather seriously.  No wonder. It is the keeper of my running music, any kind of music, including gospel, and my trusted RunKeeper app.

The thought of running without it was inconceivable until this past Saturday. Case and point: last summer while running a 10K, I must have added at least five minutes to my time when the app suddenly stopped.  Though I tried to keep going without it, I couldn’t hack it, so I stopped long enough to recover the app and my running playlist.

Meanwhile my running mate, who couldn’t conceive of running with music and so on, had long left me in the blazing distance. Still I didn’t see her point and set out to prove her wrong or just different, perhaps. So while visiting Georgia, I’d hijack my niece’s phone, having installed the app there and a substitute playlist.  And off I went. No matter where I ran, I set off with somebody’s phone.

Still I struggled, perhaps lost in the music and the commands of Ms RunKeeper, blaming my pokiness on anything but the obvious. But those days are gone, at least I hope they are. After spending about three days in sabbatical without my phone, my iPad, a single device, I finally saw the device for what it was—a distraction, certainly while running.

But seeing is next week’s focus of running with sense. This week I want to talk about hearing.  Things went so well Saturday that Monday morning, I set out yet again without the phone. Okay so it was in my pocket, just in case. But the just in case never happened, giving me the opportunity to hear London running rather smoothly, to be honest.

From birdsong to the cawing of the lone black crow perched on the lamppost, I heard London wake up. To one side of me, though I kept my head away from sooty, low waters of the Thames, I focused on the sounds of the water crashing against the gravelly shore.  For a moment, I fancied myself miles away on a remote island.

But the idea of running with sense is to stay in the moment and so I returned and further up the riverbank heard the splashing sounds of the river bus speeding along. At Battersea Bridge, I stopped and closed my eyes, listening to the thudding sounds of buses crossing, motorcycles vrooming and car engines purring and droning.

And to the other side of me, I heard the whooshing of wind passing through the trees and the rustling of leaves blowing about on the ground. All the while I sensed a calm flowing through me, even when I heard the odd sound of a banging and buzzing. The construction work was underway. Still I knew London was running smoothly. How refreshing!

Near and far I heard the striking of feet against the pavement, some running and others walking and dogs lightly trotting along, if you will. At one time, I heard my own rhythm so acutely that I was sure it must have been the sounds of another but it was mine, so I basked in it.

Then it dawned on me that scarcely a sound of the human voice was to be heard and there was something sobering about that, if only for a moment, though I heard one commuter whispering into her phone—the others going about quietly and purposefully, particularly cyclists. Speaking of cycling, did you know the turning of the wheels of a bicycle makes a lyrical sound, much like mosquitoes singing in the night? Me either.

And then they came, a class of school children running without sense if you will. They giggled, they chattered, they panted, and they shushed one another. But still it was a lovely sight to see.  They were running, really exercising! But that’s another story. Righty ho. Next week – Looking Out: Running with Sense.

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The Fresh Feeling of Autumn in London

Though I have been back from holiday in The Algarve, Portugal for more than a week now, I’m only beginning to feel grounded. What a lovely holiday. Do check out the pictures below:

Anyhow, with a busy schedule including working on the design of my upcoming book,The Seasons, which will be out in late October, and preparing for the launch of a new website to coincide with it, I have hardly had time to notice London, even it is as busy as ever.

I have been moving about rather purposefully, only doing the essentials—training, going to the hair salon, and shopping for groceries. And what a task the latter has been since discovering that I have more food intolerances that I can stomach. But that’s another story.

On top of all this, I lost my favourite aunt last weekend and continue to struggle with mourning from afar.  See my January 2011 blog on this very topic. Admittedly, I felt better re-reading it.

Still, I felt foggy and a bit out of sorts until yesterday.  Then I noticed something different in the atmosphere, something novel and perhaps light.

No longer was the heaviness of summer hanging over me as I made my way to the nearby park during my morning run, though I hadn’t run in a few days. And later that morning on a jaunt to Knightsbridge and Sloane Square, I felt a similar vigour.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that though not official according to astronomers, autumn has come to London. Even if day and night are not of equal length, I’m certain it is here, even if there are only a few berry coloured trees to behold and two or three rust coloured leaves around.

As autumn has always been my favourite seasons, I have long concluded that its arrival is not necessarily in the landscape, but in the air.  It’s an atmosphere, a feeling. And in London, this atmosphere takes off the intense edge.

What a sigh of relief to notice that:

1)   People here seem to approach autumn almost as if it is a New Year.  From launching new restaurants to opening flagship stores, merchants keep the capital fresh and relevant. Yesterday, I popped into the new Club Monaco store in Sloane Square. Not bad, not bad!

2)  The buzz around the new term – be it the school term, the work term, the ‘explore or improve your life’ course term – adds to the novelty. In any case it is all about new beginnings. No need to wait for January to set off to a crisp start.

3)  Londoners and tourists alike are friendlier. While I have always been one of those people with an ‘ask me’ stamp on my forehead, it seems to glow in the daylight in autumn.  Where is Sloane Street? Am I on the right road to Harrods? Is Parliament Square this way? Just a few of the questions I was asked recently. So glad I could help.

4)  More walkers and runners are taking to the paths. The pleasant weather is just right for walking and running and cycling, too. Never mind the occasional dark cloud and threat of rain.  It’s London, after all.

5)  People continue to sit outside, if only for a spell. In summer everyone goes out in droves for fear they won’t get the opportunity to do so the next day. But autumn days linger, making us all a bit more relaxed.

6)  It doesn’t hurt that there are few, if any gnats or midges to reckon with, although I did notice a bee kicking up a buzz among the crowds in Fulham over the weekend.

7)  And lo and behold drivers are far more courteous than they were in the summer. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the congestion can be taxing. But we are all in it together. Seriously!

Though I’m looking forward to those traditional days when the leaves will colour the landscape, for now I’m taking in the fresh atmosphere of autumn in the capital and basking in it. It’s in the air.

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Cover of ‘The Seasons’ Revealed…

The next best thing to seeing your new book in print is seeing its cover. Hence, my excitement about revealing the cover of my collection of short stories, The Seasons, coming in late October.

Ultimately, their journey is a quest to find the truth. A collection of eight short stories, The Seasons explores the human condition from youth to maturity via extraordinary characters, albeit ordinary people, who pass from spring to summer, from innocence to exuberance. And when autumn comes, they mature and persevere towards winter, almost intuitively, regardless of their extenuating circumstances.

For advanced information about The Seasons, feel free to email me here.

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Take Seven: Running to Switch Off…

Running time is meant to be time for me, myself and I to escape the stresses of family life, work etc. That means no writing, except for when I am running to jumpstart writing. For the most part, however, I run to switch off – not an easy feat for an author, particularly one on deadline.

Thank goodness nowadays I am not on a major writing deadline. Though I have a new book coming in October, the writing of it has long passed. The editorial process is upon me. Yet while running one morning recently, truly believing that I was in the escape zone, I found myself writing figuratively, at least coming up with story lines or bits that would be useful to scenes, chapters, etc. at some point.

When I realised what I was doing, I couldn’t help laugh to myself and in doing so I decided to capture the moment. Why not make the most of it, share top story ideas I happened upon while running. Take seven:

  1. A trail of fresh blood leading from the walls of the Embankment to the pavement, which disappears into the earth suddenly. While I am no sleuth, that has to be one worth investigating.
  2. Three buxom men, dressed in black, wearing earpieces as they pace up and down a certain part of the Thames Path. They don’t look fighting fit like undercover agents to be honest, so just who the heck are they?
  3. The man dressed in a crumpled suit, grasping a beer bottle as he wandered to the edge of the river. At one point I expected him to walk right in, but he stopped suddenly and stared unblinkingly at the ground. Then he found a piece of wood and dropped down on it. What is or was his story?
  4. The yappy dog that longs to have a round with the Great Dane, who ignores him rather intuitively it seems. Does he understand that he is cruising for a bruising?
  5. The boot camp female runner who wears black gear and a massive backpack, as she tears along the boardwalk. All she needs is a splash of camouflage underneath her eyes to get fully into character. Everything else about her already says Private Benjamin.
  6. The barefooted runner who jogs up and down the boardwalk on the coldest of days, despite the worry of shattered glass, nails, whatever, and on some days he runs along the road. Most recently, I saw him hotfoot it in the rain. What is that about?
  7. The middle aged Englishman who practices Tai Chi rather clumsily but happily. You have to admire the guy.

 

Actually, I appreciate them all, even if they do distract me, with exception of the blood. That worries me. Never mind! Who needs to switch off anyhow? Not this writer. Time to switch on and deal with these edits – The Seasons, coming October 2014.

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Expat Caught in the Congestion Zone

Westminster…argh! Actually, I love the borough, lived in it for twelve of the nearly seventeen years I have been in London. But I hate driving there, with the exception of Belgravia and Knightsbridge. Hate it! And they must hate drivers like me coming there, too—not sure whether to zoom or potter. All we want is a parking space, just one.

Hence, the congestion zone – that ought to keep us out. I thought so too, but today I went inside the controlled zone, unintentionally, of course. Blinking Sat Nav. Someone has to accept the blame.

If only I had listened to my gut instinct, I would have parked in my old neighbourhood and walked to my destination. Oh no, I thought I could get right to the edge of the zone, sit the car down and walk merrily to Run and Become.

Not only did I end up blocks away from the store, but also when I at last got there, the shop was closed for staff holidays. If only I had listened to my gut instinct, I would have telephoned  in advance. But honestly, who has ever heard of such a shop closing in the height of running season?

Okay, it is the end of the summer but my current shoes are so out of date that it is no longer funny. As much as I run, I am told that I could do with a new pair of shoes every three months. Forget it, maybe every six months, but the truth is, I haven’t bought any since last June or July. No wonder my feet are not amused, my knees either.

Never mind, I still have to pay this charge of  £11.50 on top of the £2.00 that I paid to park. Ouch that’s more than $22. Not to mention the petro. And forget about all the time I planned to save by taking the car. I lost that driving around, looking for parking and then walking to the closed shop.

So what would a train fare have been? I dare not say.  But all is not lost, not really. I had a sightseeing tour around Westminster, finally saw where the St James Park tube station is, and passed by the New Scotland Yard. Also, I saw numerous trendy coffee shops. Under different circumstances, I might have tried out at least one.

But anxious to get out of dodge, I settled for stopping into Boots, the chemist, for some eye drops of all things. There, I can see clearly now. So I am told there is a great running shop in Kensington, nowhere near the congestion zone. Settled, out of it at last.

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Special Connection with First Famous Female

For many African American famous firsts, it is either getting late in the evening or night has come for their final rest, as is the case for Alice Coachman Davis, the first African American woman to win an Olympic Gold medal.

Mrs Coachman-Davis, who won her medal for the high jump at London’s Wembley Stadium in 1948, died on Monday, July 14 at the age of 90. Though her achievement itself is enough to celebrate, where it happened and where she is from makes the achievement that much more special for me.

From Albany, Georgia (the place I have called home for years now, though my family originates from nearby Leary) the record breaker won the medal right up the street from where I live now, if you will. More than 60 years later, Wembley Stadium continues to host some sporting events such as football, also known as soccer to some. Years ago, Paul and I saw Tina Turner and Lionel Richie perform there.

How appropriate for me to be in this space about now.

Somehow I can’t help feeling a special connection. Though I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Mrs Coachman-Davis, I have known of her for years, if only through the school that bears her name in Albany.

Interestingly enough, my sister Carrie, who has been in the Dougherty County School System for many years now, landed her first teaching job at Coachman Park Elementary School. And the story gets better.

Her then principal, Mrs Obzeine Shorter, was one of my first grade teachers.  In those days, the class was split between two teachers.  The other was a Mrs Boston, also from Albany.  To the best of my knowledge the latter woman died some years ago. Mrs Shorter lives on.

Wonderful firsts but not the lasts, I am sure. At London 2012, for example, women continued to make history. Females secured 29 of Team USA’s 46  medals. The women’s basketball players  won their 5th consecutive Olympic gold medal in London.

What a fitting to time to look at some of the noteworthy firsts in life. Share your memories here. As for now, I join thousands, if not millions, of others in celebrating the life of Alice Coachman-Davis and extending my condolences to her family.

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The Magic of London at Night…

There’s something about London at night that’s enchanting—a bit surreal, too. As the taxi sped over Waterloo Bridge the other night, I couldn’t help trying to capture the magic. Well, while the amateurish photo isn’t bad, it doesn’t do the capital’s mysticism any real justice, does it?

Surely, I have something that says a thousand words, I told myself as I looked over my digital files—sunsets, sunsets, fireworks, fireworks.

Not what I had in mind. Though I have photographed Shanghai by night, Bangkok, Paris, New York, Boston and so on, I don’t have much of London. What does this mean? Possibly, that I don’t carry a camera around my home base at night. Who does? In any case, I’ll have to remedy that, but it might take some time.

In the meantime, I thought I’d take this opportunity to list five of my favourite views in London at night and tell a bit about what makes them special. Note that the list does not necessarily appear in preferred order. I love them all:

1) A view looking east on the Thames, which highlights the various riverside apartment buildings, the Albert and Chelsea Bridge and the lofty skyscrapers of the city of London in the distance. You’ll need a bird’s eye view for this one, but that shouldn’t be too hard to manage with skyscrapers popping up all over the place.

2) The twinkling lights of Harrods, located in Knightsbridge, which also happens to be one of my favourite views by day, too, or shall I say my favourite hang outs. The famous department store is one of the largest, if not the largest in the world. Checking it out by night won’t cost you a thing, considering what you might spend by day. Closest tube stations are Knightsbridge and Hyde Park corner.

3) Piccadilly, from Green Park to Piccadilly Circus.  It’s just vibrant, bodacious and atmospheric all at the same time.  So I am told the nightlife in the area keeps it teeming. What do I know, but when I am lucky enough to be there, I can see and feel exactly what the buzz is about.

4) Speaking of buzz, Park Lane is the place to be any time. But by night, the ritzy hotels light up and appear seductive under the moonlight. If you happen to be staying on the famous street or attending a gala there, you’re in serious luck. But if not, do catch a ride and zip alongside London taxis, Bentley’s, Maserati’s and the likes to take it all in.

5) When you tire of riding and want a stroll, go from Leicester Square to Covent Garden for a hive of activity and eclectic views.  From watching fascinating street artists to sampling exotic foods, expect to be wowed. Young and old alike gather before and after theatre or heck just gather for the fun of it.

With all this talk about wonderful views maybe those fireworks are fitting about now. Magic!

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