I have been experiencing writer’s block yet again. The last time I struggled this hard was in July, right after the monstrous CFA exam. I went to Champagne Ridge in Ngong, stared at some hills from 6.00am for about an hour and finally mustered the resolve to put my thoughts to paper. Since then, I have come back here religiously every Monday and sometimes on Fridays and chattered about three things: My inquisitive soon to be five-year-old daughter, my travel escapades and my fitness journey, all which I am over-zealous about.
When delving into the three subjects, the plot builds up effortlessly like a downstream current on the Zambezi. My last post on “The Other Side of Capetown” was initially 3,600 words. When I saw the word count, I stared at it in amazement and asked myself a question every writer should ask themselves occasionally:
“Why would anyone read a 3,600-word ramble on my shenanigans?”
I split it right in the middle and saved the first half for another day, of course with a bit of work needed to polish it up.
I had an idea of a post that was supposed to go up last week on Friday. However, I procrastinated putting it together on Wednesday evening arguing that I still hadn’t done sufficient research on the topic that I was meant to address. On Thursday evening, the mister and I had our date night. Obviously, nothing was published on Friday morning because not even a portion of the task had been tackled. I must mention that I only have evenings before bedtime to write as my 8am to 5pm belongs to someone else, and that’s the side of my bread that is well buttered.
I would liken my writing process to frying nyama. First, the oil must sizzle, then you throw in the onions & some spices, next the chopped nyama and finally the tomatoes & dhanias. If you are kiuk, you’ll throw in potatoes, carrots and cabbages at some point (hehe). In my case, the pot was not even on the fire.
Then there was the weekend which normally would help save face. But not this one. The mister and I decided to relive our youthful days and drive to Naivasha to watch the Safari Rally. Of course, that meant that no writing was going to take place and therefore no story went up the blog on Monday morning.
It’s Tuesday evening, 8.17pm. I am seated at my writing-table banging this copy, the reading light casting a beautiful orange glow on my Macbook. My whole body is numb from a 13km run I did in the morning. My legs feel like stilts, my thighs are sore, my head is disoriented and my hands are stiff. My phone has just alerted me to pack it in early as I have an 11km run in the morning. That means I must be in bed by 9.00pm and read for half an hour before nodding off. My alarm will go off at 5.00am and I will wake up for my run, if God wills. So, I only have 43 minutes to say what I must.
Here’s my point: If I can create running goals and meet them, surely, why not transfer the same energy to other aspects of my life, especially the blog? To this regard, I will be publishing features here every Monday and Friday at 6.00am. Think of this blog as your bi-weekly platform that gives you an honest and unpretentious view of motherhood, fitness and travel. And most importantly, chronicles of a hilarious five-year-old and her sibling. You don’t even need to subscribe. Just show up.
On Monday, I plan on finally tackling an issue that has been bugging me. Causing me sleepless nights. I am quite a hands-on person, and rarely, hardly ever, have I lost control of anything. But this one thing has totally slipped out of my hands and is rolling down a steep hill. I will let you in on this then.
I am curious to know what you think I will be addressing, so please hit the comment section below with your views. I could use a laugh, though my mouth is also numb from the run.