Last year I pulled off a sub-1:23 half marathon early in the training. I went back to the same race looking for a good performance. Unfortunately, the weather was crap, the course was just as hard as ever, and I struggled like never before. After about 5K, some stomach cramps hit and grew steadily worse for a while. Soon I was slouched over in a death shuffle. It has been a while since I have hurt this bad on a run. Yet when I crossed the line in 1:25:49 (6:32+/mile) I felt better.
My swimming has really picked up. Perhaps it is the previous experience in the water before or maybe it was all the videos and reading. At one point, this guy was coaching others at the pool and made a comment to one of them. Till that point, I never thought about the fact that my hand was 90° from the bottom of the pool. Once I turned my hand down, I gained more power. Even after the week off with the arm injury, I still had some good improvements. Not only am I finding it less than awful to be in the water, but my 2K time trial improved from 39:20 to 37:35 (a 1:45 improvement). That translates to a 1:11:30 Ironman swim. More work to do, but lots of time. My arm is at about 85%.
Now, to the good stuff. We are in Hermanus (near Cape Town) at a beach house. It is 2am. Sarah is saying, “What are you looking for?” I say, “What?” “What are you looking for?” she repeats. “Who are you talking to?” I ask in a purple haze worthy of Hendrix. Sarah points to the floor where there is a faint light and a black mass. Taelyn (2-year-old daughter) sometimes gets out of bed and lies on the floor. But no answer. Maybe it is my dad looking for my computer (by my bed). He has become obsessed with Burn Notice. No answer. I start to get up and the figure rises, definitely not Taelyn. Down the stairs it goes. I yell for my dad and there is no answer so I go to his room where he and my mom are in bed. Yep, someone was in our house. I shoot to the girls’ room and find them both, thankfully, asleep. My pops and I creep downstairs to find the house empty but the back door open with glass shattered on the ground.
After pulling the ADT alarm and greeting the security, we start to look around. My backpack was on the counter but is gone, along with my Comrades jacket, my mother’s REI fleece, and both ours and my parents’ digital cameras. My wallet with all credit cards, driver’s license, PADI card, and R1200 ($150) is gone and my phone too. Worst, in my backpack were my sunglasses, my computer mouse, my GPS watch, our family’s four passports, and our car keys. Why are missing the car keys a big deal? Because we only have one set, and they are the electronic kind that can only be ordered by the dealer from France, cost $300, and take three weeks to arrive. My car, our ride home, and my parent’s transport for the rest of the trip is sitting in the airport parking (at $11/day) with no way to move it.
Outside the broken window is a half-drank 40oz. of beer and on the ground a 5” knife. Thankfully, the dude did not bring the knife in the house. Security was cool, and told us this has been happening a lot, and that “squatters” break in, take stuff, and make off down the beach to their camp where they will sell the goods. Finally, the police arrive 45 minutes later and start to fill out a report. As realistic as the next guy, I know we aren’t going to find this burglar, but at least act like you care. These guys hardly say a word, take my statement with contempt, and one cop’s eyes are so bloodshot that he either was roused from a deep sleep or is drunk off his rocker (let’s not rule out both). They could not seem to understand that I do not live there. They keep asking if the house is insured and other questions, ignoring that I am renting the place! They are true to the task, though, as a call comes in about a stabbing and they tell someone else to do it. Their statement is on lined paper where the guy ad-libs what I say and he has me sign it. At the end, the last line say, “I agree this to be true, and hereby declare that I did not give permission for anyone to break into my house.” I think it is a joke. Who is in the house? Where is all my stuff? Call the cops! Someone broke in guys! What? Oh, yeah, I forgot. I did tell someone to break into my house, at night, and steal my items. Sorry for wasting your time.
Tallying up the damage, we were close to $2000 in loses. The cameras, jackets, watch, sunglasses, wallet, and cards could all be replaced. Sadly, we lost all of the pictures of our trip and our kids on the cameras. Some time on the internet could replace the credit cards and driver’s license. The passports required a trip to the consulate and a lot of money. What was worrisome was getting our work permits replaced in time to leave and return for our Tanzania trip in December. It was a major hassle (4 months) to get them originally so we hope this time will be better. The car key was a different problem as leaving a car in the airport for a month is costly, the key is costly, and being without a car in a place where you really can’t walk or bike to places is tough.
In the end, everyone was safe, and that was the main thing. These people don’t have much, so they commit crimes that get them cash or things that can be used for cash. I can understand that. I don’t blame them for what their life has become, but I am none too happy about it considering it was my items and safety in jeopardy. The feeling of having someone in your home, taking your stuff, and near your children is unnerving to say the least. But what really gets my blood boiling is that the guy took my running shoes. My used, dirty, smelly running shoes! I missed out on a run in a great place because of that. I hope they guy caught a foot fungus, and I hope it itches, bad.
