What follows

During the final build to Worlds I got increasingly itchy to the point of wishing to get beyond race day. The lockdown was becoming too monotone for too long and with energy levels and time on the increase during taper week my mischievous self was starting a drum roll. Thought you might be entertained to know what did/does follow.

Got back to the villa soon after the race and push play to the theme song – Shooting Stars by Bag Raiders. We were jamming while reading tweets and mails out loud, exchanging race details between Jan and I having raced and the rest having watched. Did get the wounds cleaned a little, and confirmed the need for fillet and gelato in a hurry. Luckily recalled the pro presentation at 1330 at 1330. And if not for the closeness of the villa and the girls podium being summoned first, I’d have missed it.

Did get to that feast afterwards, with a table of Jan, Bobby, Emma, Jonine, Leandra, Dylan, Magali, and myself. The garlic fries deserve a mention. Then eased the budda belly with a stroll in search of a Halloween get-up suited for the group. Which was the classic Hula Girl – straw skirt, coconut bra, hawaii’n flower. Nothing standout, till 8 of us were dressed in it… Good laughs. The lads accessorized with a banjo like guitar. Rocking stuff. Hit Ben and Jerry’s – the all time favourite Crème Brule flavor, before getting on to the awards banquet.

The after party was a good laugh. Doesn’t take much to get a dehydrated fit athlete on a buzz. No particular reference to myself, more of the vast majority making up for lost time. Only when getting home at 2am did I finish catching up with the response on Facebook and Twitter. Really special to flip through names new and old who’d followed the race unfolding.

Lazy brunch in the morning followed by a surf – us watching Jan and Emma making it happen. Totally forget about checking out the villa, it wasn’t on the radar. Had to plead at reception after a distress call from Kapalua.

Packed, fed, played Pandora, and eventually got moving to the airport. Did the redeye back to Denver via Los Angeles which was less painful thanks to an upgrade which could only have been for my late arrival. Reckon it was the only seat available. Proof that being late does pay dividends. Sometimes.

Housemate fetched me at DIA, went straight to Caffe for a double shot 8oz latte and an excellent Italian salami grilled veg sandwich. Even the gluten free is of great texture there. Hopped into one final Dave Scott swim at 1115am – which helped to shift some blood around and get the body to loosen. Fun to bid farewell to Dave and the few there. Recovered from that at The Kitchen with the Butterfield’s, Kris Gemmel and two housemates in Shelby and Matt. For sure my favourite restaurant in Boulder. Owned by a South African ex-pat I’m told.

Ran some errands, and finished just in time for a rendezvous at The Kitchen upstairs with some more friends – the more trendy and hip sister restaurant to The Kitchen. A delicious Cab Franc, more salmon (not easy to get in South Africa), and double desert of chocolate nemesis tagged teamed with an Affogato.

Somehow I’d walked onto the pool deck in a speedo at 1115 without feeling misplaced and walked out after dinner 8hours later into a snow storm!? Fun to see Boulder like that, especially when not having to train in it the next morning. Got home to a power outage from many breaking branches. There is still plenty fall coloured foliage on the trees, which does not seem to work for the foot of snow by morning.

Mental packing effort Wednesday morning. Stuff to leave, stuff needed in South Africa, stuff needing Fedex, stuff better off in the garbage. Packing when you have lots of time takes lots of time. Got semi orientated I’d say, but that’s probably being generous.

Wednesday’s highlight was double fisting two soups at another favourite called Spruce Confectionery. A small quiet café up on Pearl Street. Snow outside, soup and a latte inside. Loved it. Lentil lamb and something crème broccoli.

Then the long haul. Left the Boulder house at 2pm on Wednesday only to get into the Stellenbosch apartment at 10am on Friday morning. Longest delay was a 7hour in London Heathrow’s terminal 5. It’s no joke commuting between South Africa and the United States. I’ve done three of those this year.

Cant explain the joy at getting into Cape Town Int. The fine detail of adverts and facial expressions, the accents and fashion choices; it’s South Africa. I’ll numb out to the differences soon but for the moment, I’m like a visitor in my own home. I fancy tourist eyes, they seem to notice more.

Did do a Woolies latte before Stellenbosch. Hussled to a massage, unpacked and re-packed, endulged in some Greengate goodness, all before maing my way back to the airport for a flight up to Joburg to support a Songo.info fundraising effort.

Greengate is still one of the best things to ever happen to me. The gourmet deli buffet I dish from Monday through Friday when home. The service girls were elated to see me, and still had some newspaper clippings to show me from this week’s coverage. Great food, great company.

Will be fine dining tonight. Cant wait.

Ride with Christoph Sauser and Burry Stander in the morning, along with purchased slots to the benefit of the charity. Brunch after. Some friends lined up for Saturday afternoon before the evening function which includes some banter and an auction.

Fly back South Sunday morning for a lunch my family have arranged for me at the farm. Cant wait to see the rest of the family.

And then next week, probably what I’m most excited about beyond people connecting, is going to steal the La Marzocco GS3 (google that shit) and some Hazz beans from my coffee connection. I intend to get high, and then stay high. If you’re into the holy grail search of a perfect espresso, it could be a good week to rekindle your friendship with me. Or initiate a fresh one. Either way, the coffee will be on tap. I’m as excited to be pulling shots myself as I am to be enjoying them.

That’s what I know for now. Not knowing works too.