Now I can finally breathe easy. The race is over. Two finished. One skidded. One got lost twice and missed a stamp from a checkpoint. Husband’s official time: 14hours 13minutes. And that’s because they doubled back to check on the fallen teammate. They lost about 30min there. Teammate’s ok although he still has to do the x-rays to rule out anything broken.
I got worried when husband didn’t call on the estimated time they would arrive on the last checkpoint. After an hour past the estimated time, I took to carrying my mobile everywhere I went. Everywhere. After 2 hours, I hoped I wouldn’t be receiving any call from any of his teammates or his teammates’ wives. After another 30 minutes, I prayed – please let it be low battery on his part or maybe a busted comm. That gave me fortitude to last until another 30min when I expected them to have crossed the finish line. 30 min after I expected them to finish, and still no communication, I started having bad thoughts. Finally, he sent an sms. Race over.
Whoo! And finally I could rejoice that second son got into his first choice Uni. I didn’t want to get excited earlier today when I found out he got a place at the premier Jesuit U in the Philippines. I didn’t want to jinx husband’s race.
I’m weird that way. I believe that no one can have it all good all the way. Something has to give.
In this case, I think the accident yesterday on our parked car where a motorcycle fell on our car’s back portion and broke the tail light plus gouged out a nasty dent on the rear end was in exchange for husband’s safety.
All is good for now.
The husband will be off on an endurance race in a few minutes from now. Four of them from their club have joined the Cannonball Race; 1200km in 24 hours. The race starts at a minute past midnight.
Slight apprehension on my part since their group leader is riding to win. I would’ve preferred if their goal was simply ride to finish. But … Oh well.
The husband is on his R1200 GS. Chairman is on a Goldwing and the two other riders in their group are also on BMW 1200s. All of them have extra fuel tanks to lessen gas-up times. They all had extra lights fitted since highways here in the Philippines are not well lit.
The race route takes them through the northern loop; the northern most point of the country.
I send a plea to the heavens to keep them safe.
8 Jan 2015
I chanced on a former colleague from way back 20yrs ago. We caught up on each other’s goings-on. I told him I was taking up a Masteral course. And he reacts -“What are you – in the midst of a mid life crisis?” Initially I told him I just love to learn but he seemed disbelieving. And so to cut the conversation, I just agreed with him and told him that, yeah, it was probably a mid life crisis.
I got to thinking after our conversation.
Why would some people presume it’s a mid life crisis when one is doing something new in their 40’s? Why when I enrolled in French and German classes 20 years ago, no one raised an eyebrow? And when I enrolled in Law School 8 years ago, people never thought I was in a crisis – most simply said I was crazy. And when I took up flamenco 5 years ago, nobody seemed to think it was weird.
Learning shouldn’t stop simply because one is getting on in years. On the contrary, learning in and out of a formal institution, should be a continuing process.
So if this is a mid life crisis, so be it. Pretty soon I will also be having a late-life crisis and even up to a senior crisis, maybe even an end-of-the-rope crisis. Whatever. This will not be the last of my exploration process.