Tuesday, 1 February 2011


I believe that there are two types of competitive people in the world. The first category includes the individuals with a manic motivation to outcompete others. Compelled to conquer, vigilant until victorious, these merciless mortals are driven by need, want and wish to succeed, and success is defined in relation to fellow hominids. The second category is those hapless humans with an unquenchable thirst to achieve. This craving is insatiable as its source is the realisation of the permanent undernourishment and underuse of their own potential. In fact, there are many people who perhaps have elements from both classes within their character, and switch according to situation. I, however, most frequently frequent the latter class. Never interested, stimulated or personally propelled by inclusion in team sports or team anything for that matter, my goad has always been competition against my only truly fair opponent, me. This most probably originated due to abysmal ability and horrendous humiliation in the world of primary school netball, and was further cultivated by carefully contrived excuses to then avoid group games. Presently my competitive nature is restless and impatient and has resorted to manifesting itself in the most peculiar ways.

Throughout my hospitalization, my arterial blood was lazy, lackadaisical and lethargic, resulting in frustratingly low systolic blood pressures. This hypotension was most inconvenient, as every attempt to mobilize was impeded by a temporary rush of heat, loss of hearing and feeling of faintness. The new competition, the new desperation, the new focus was for my blood to just be aggressive enough to exceed a systolic pressure of 100mmHg. Each time the cuff was wrapped around my diminutive bicep, I would silently plead for my desired result. I am proud to announce that the most recently recorded blood pressure was a whopping 104/54. My blood is once again winning one of my internal races. It is applying enough force as it leaves my heart to prevent the onset of a series of unpleasant symptoms. Now that blood has been dealt with, the question is, will muscle, gut or skin be the organ of my next challenge?


  1. No one knows what will come next, all you can do is prepare for whatever happens as best as you can.


  2. the brain, i'm sure it will be the brain...