Tag Archives: writing

Potters’ Arf Marathon – My Story

Potters arf Race no.

Although I took part in a half marathon 5 years ago for a charitable cause, fitness wise I’ve only recently begun to battle the early 30s bulge.
During the working week, I walk about 25 miles so  walking Stoke -on-Trent’s “Potters’ Arf” (half) marathon seemed a great fit for me.

Having lost a family member, bought and moved into a house in the last 2 months, I haven’t had much time to train. I didn’t know how fit I was or whether I would match the 3 hours and 50 minutes I did 5 years ago. Until the starting klaxon, butterflies were salsa dancing in my stomach.

While my “man in black” attire seemed at odds with the fluorescent offerings by the groups around me, the air was filled with focus and fun. On a grey and increasingly wet Sunday morning in June, I was certainly in the focus camp.

Today I would be a soloist surrounded by small orchestras while others hoped to raise money, my job was simply to get over the finish line in one piece.

Though I started in the front 15, I didn’t expect to stay there. The banter with a small group who would alternate between running and walking through sections of the course made for an entertaining first half.

I would pass them, then 5 minutes later I would hear buckets jangling as they passed me in a blur of pink.
I played pick the pacemaker with various people in front of me until they were too far ahead or behind. As my pace steadied, a 52-year-old guy called “Brian” and I begun a conversation. I’d say he made my decision to do this worthwhile.

Hearing about the cause he was doing this for would have had me in tears had it not been for the rain filling my eyes. Getting to know “Brian” throughout the middle of the race helped this overthinker relax and find my rhythm.
If I’d had my phone I would have focused on it and probably slowed down to check every mile. Instead, through our conversation and the rhythm we found, we managed to reel in and surpass those doing the run/ walk combo.
As the crowds started to thicken at around the 9-mile mark, I was starting to lose him and by the 10th mile when elite runners had passed me, he was out of sight.

From then on the energy from the crowd became my battery. I thanked or gave two thumbs up to everyone that applauded or told me to keep going.I officially crossed the line at 2 hours 58 minutes and 45 seconds.

“Brian” was right, we had hit a quick pace and somehow I’d managed to maintain it.As I scoured the official results, he was nowhere to be found, “Brian” must have been an Angel sent to encourage me, for that I am thankful.

I learned  several things about myself today,  simple as they may be, my 3 takeaways are:

  1. Focus doesn’t mean intense self-talk. Tune into your journey and the people or things that help you with it.
  2. Walk your walk. Your Brian will come and go, you still have to cross the line.
  3. Find the fun(ny) – a smile is a groove that may help you find yours.

Leave a comment

Filed under Non Poetic Blogs

Lip Service

You keep kissing me in front of all these people
Expecting me to fall in love with you.
We seem to meet before the party, then it’s hard to get in touch with you.
I died for more than double you.
Hold this L
If it’s not too much trouble how about a… hello?
Public displays of affection, rarely a conversation.
You pull up a pew and rearrange the table.
Snack with me and regurgitate it.
Why? Why take the plate if you’re not hungry?
Why tell me you love me in public?
You barely shake my hand or hug me.
You immerse in my water and refuse to plug me.
If our lips must combine like oxygen and hydrogen, why aren’t we more than friends?
Am I the luxury meat at your barbecue?
The pumice stone to your ego?
If I’m the cross road you take in a blue moon in spite of your better route
If to yourself you’re being true, this arrangement is shaky.
Sometimes I hate it.
Our snap chat, I’ll take it over an Amen on Facebook.
I might be on your speed dial for the sake of it,
It is your heart I’m truly taken with.
You are worth the chase and…although you say….
I do… without the declaration.
Some folk forsake marriage for a lifetime of dating.
The choice is yours, is this a love worth embracing?

Leave a comment

Filed under Faith, Random Poetics, Relationships, Society

11 / 30 – The switch

Sweet natured berry

Your pain left the world with you.

Love and pain blurring

The cycle pedaled

Your light’s ever bright

Framing you through us

Leave a comment

Filed under 30 day challenge, Random Poetics

Bucket Lists & Passions

Though for many it the season of Coca-Cola trucks, mistletoe and Mariah Carey on repeat. It has become a tradition for me to look back at the year then choose a new playlist of sorts for the next 12 months. The aim? To get used to the new or improved grooves ahead of schedule.

2015 has undoubtedly been categorised by the word “expansion”. While poetry has been a muscle exercised a little less this year, I have experienced joy in unexpected areas such as fitness and photography.  Having taken pictures like the one below (see more photos here), it seems I am stumbling into another of my father’s footsteps.

12308477_10153675495600211_2164826186451572960_n

 

This year, music has been a trumpeted passion that has somewhat overtaken my poetic inclinations.

Through my 8-month-old music review blog 7ish, I now know more about myself as a writer and the scale of knowledge required to grow during the next season.

Of the bucket list aspects of the year, a handful of concerts that encompassed two of my all-time influences namely Kirk Franklin and Talib Kweli means they can be ticked off. To see Saul Williams would complete the triumvirate of my creative bucket list.

As poetry is a muscle that must be exercised to be maintained, a greater output is on the cards.

Thanks for sticking with me

Adrian

Leave a comment

Filed under Non Poetic Blogs, Random Poetics

Haiku – #ALM

Watermelon smiles and trigger happy chickens.

Melting pot meltdowns.

Leave a comment

Filed under Random Poetics

The Adam Question

Some days I wonder whether Eve in Eden was a case of mistaken identity.

Whether Lizzy or Rachael or Ella were meant to be.

With no childhood memories,

Was their first date a snoozefest laced with pleasantries?

Neither could eat from a template of how they’re meant to be.

With no career or previous history, was their first kiss like conservative virgin sex, full of an awkward intensity?

What was the attraction? Looks or personality or just that she had been made from him for him?

Was she as immaculate as a queen?

Did he need to teach her how to manage the home, cook or clean?

It’ll never reveal whether Eve even had sex appeal

Was love meant to breathe with Eve?

Yes, we see that she was given as his one and only.

Was Adam so lonely or just insanely desperate?

Was he rough and ready to her delicate?

Was she tough and he extremely sensitive?

Had he wanted a slice of heaven for the hell of it?

After the novelty had worn off, did he start regretting it?

Want to curse God for blessing it.

Was he sleeping on her subtleties like a sedative?

Or was the union so heavenly that he wanted to make the best of it.

Knowing she was made for him, did he ever wrestle with this so-called blessing?

After they’d been put together, did angels tell him he’d never looked better?

Did he get that constant reassurance they looked good together?

With no ceremony was this the first true marriage or a cohabitation?

Their mere creation a blessing witnessed by his creator and angels

If Adam had a choice would he have remained faithful?

If we were Adam, would we even be grateful?

Accepting that, though love learns the hard way,

Some lives… you’re made for.

Leave a comment

Filed under Relationships

Numb

Perilous times have come, that’s what he said to me.

Days are but dreams, headlines are now a bed to me.

Grief and pain are like oxygen, peace is now dead to me.

What’s a warrior to his reflection if bull ish gives the lecture?

We die daily, not to sin but for the sake of being….here

As tears tear hearts, time’s words are stuttering to a whisper

Martin Luther or Malcolm?

The reformation shall be digitised.

Contact lenses become arm’s length embraces

Blue screen is cool if you can get it

We burn as charcoal, silently burning whiter than white

Why is it always so black and white?

Killing grounds we traverse as sacrifices in waiting.

What’s denial of our differences?

For the answer ask Rachel

We can’t remove our makeup!

Matter is an atom so where’s the thought for black lives

A hashtag is all that resides

We speak until we’re blue rarely reaching the bluest eyes

I’m living black going blue inside

Leave a comment

Filed under Race