Ryk and Me

Once upon a time Ryk digged my girlfriend. I remember he dropped her off one night - she'd been out late and caught a ride with him - and I naturally suspected there had been a grab in the car. She assured me there hadn't been, and I believed her -mostly because I believe Ryk is a stand up guy.

At the time she was Miss Eunice, and everyone had a crush on her. She'd dated the Vice head boy of Grey (Volsteedt's son), the Water Polo coach was gunning for her, basically the whole of Grey and Saint Andrews Bloem had pictures of her in their homework books. Whole crowds of excited schoolboys would pitch up at our house to visit. One bunch would leave, then another would stream in. I'd often drive her and her brother and sister to school, and often drop her off at the boyfriend-of-the-hour.
I was at varsity then, see, having recently climbed Kili and was one of the countries top triathletes in my age group. After a long wooing period, we finally hooked up. As I say, I was a different creature then: a triathlete at the top of my game, and in a very high league of form and fitness. I was also into crazy stuff like doing medical trials for pocket money, swimming with wild dolphins, and being paid to pose for art atudents at the local Technikon. And I got into a crazy relationship with her.

We ended up spending a year in the UK together, and that was that (obviously there's a lot more to the story he he).

It's curious to me now to look back and see how things have changed. This chick that had made virtually everyone - including me - go ga ga, came back from England, and by the time she was 22 was married to a short, geeky smoker: the guy gave her a BMW early on in their courtship (it's been rumored from ill-gotten gains) and from there it was just sheer living pleasure in his lap of luxury. This oke - his name is Vernon - was about as far from cool and the likes of Ryk Neethling as you could get. But he had the bling that's what counted; she lived happily ever after.

And so the tide turned. I went bald, grew a boep. Found myself in South Korea for a spell. Ryk became a South African superhero and World Record Holder in swimming, and pretty soon I was schmaaking his (then) girlfriend, Amanda Beard (so was everybody else). The tide shifted again as I partially resurrected myself - I won a standard triathlon in South Korea, came home to finish an Ironman - Ryk moved back to South Africa and became the country's biggest celebrity. I also moved back to South Africa and became one of the country's biggest disappointments. I say this with tongue partially in cheek.

Recently I met a mother and daughter - the mom and old friend I once swam with regularly - and was impressed that even in her late fourties, she was in excellent shape (she's swimming 10km a day), her body is stronger than when she was in her
20's.

The point is, it is never too late to find the Ryk Neethling in yourself - the best that you can be. It requires huge amounts of dedication, motivation and energy. But isn't it worth being your SuperSelf for as much of your life as you can muster? It means not only do you feel great about yourself, and living in this world, but the world loves having you in it. Isn't that a life worth going for? It is for me.

Office Party

My day yesterday started on an unfortunate note. I was up at 4:30am, basically doing the zombie thing. Getting into cycling clothes, water bottle out of the freezer, gulped down 2 phedra cuts, while the palm tree outside my window waved to catch my attention. It looked cold and miz outside, threatening to rain but not enough to seem imminent if you catch my drift. So Alex, very unsually, sms-d that he wasn't going to ride this morning.

I hesitated in the dark. Half dressed. Then I made the crucial decision, and I have to say, a bad one. I got back into bed. The Phedra Cut did its work, accelarating my metablolism, meaning I couldn't sleep for the next 4 hours.

After a day at the office we went in a bus to the Joburg CBD. Honestly at times I felt like I was in a European city, travelling back in time. So many beautiful sandstone edifices. This is the part of the city that was the original city, when gold was coming out of the Earth, and the eye of the British Empire was fixed on this glowing part of the world.

The venue for the function was the Rand Club, one of the beautiful edifices, but in a pretty grotty part of town. The inside is lavish - membership is R5000 a year. There are big paintings of the queen inside, and a generally Victorian Colonial Ethos, you've seen it in Out of Africa: England in Africa.

The dress code was black and silver. I fitted in perfectly with my camo pants and khaki top. I didn't bother to take my own camera, or to be a social butterfly. Did meet a funny fella called Temba though, who worked in sales. Felt a bit more loosey goosey after a double whiskey. But since discretion is the better part of virtue, I'm not going to describe the good, the bad or the ugly. Suffice it to say there were generous dollops of each of these. I will put up the odd photograph through the course of the day-to-day ;-)

Got home around 11pm and slept like a baba. Today is another grey day with alas, no partying this evening, but perhaps a drink with L.

Crime Strikes Ryk's Family

Above image courtesy Die Volksblad

I'm unhappy to have read in today's paper about some more hard knocks against the Neethling family. A friend of mine was at Eunice when Elsje was diagnosed and operated on 13 years ago. It is a terrible unseen force to have to live with, and now a growth has appeared in her back. Good to know Elsje is in good hands (the original doctor that treated her successfully).

From the report below:

Having heard the diagnosis Jean Marie flew up (she had been writing exams) to be with her parents at Elsje's bedside.
On the way back from the airport her mom San Marie was injured when a man broke the window of her car. She gave up her cellphone at knifepoint, her husband then sped away.

Mrs Neethling echoes my own sentiments: Bloem is better than Jburg, certainly in terms of crime and personal safety.


Misdaad tref Ryk se gesin
Jun 06 2007 12:01:23:730AM - (SA)
Dirk Kok

TERWYL die Suid-Afrikaanse swemmer Ryk Neethling se ouers met die siekte van hul middelste kind ’n traumatiese tyd beleef, was hulle ook die slagoffers van misdaad in Johannesburg.

Mnr. Ryk Neethling, bekende prokureur van Bloemfontein, sy vrou, San-Marié, en hul jongste kind, die swemmer Jean-Marié, was Maandagaand by ’n verkeerslig in Beyers Naudé-rylaan die slagoffers van ’n breek-en-grypdief.

Mev. Neethling het kneuswonde waar die rower haar in die gesig geslaan het en ligte snywonde van die glas van die passasiersruit wat langs haar kop stukkend geslaan is.

Die Neethling-egpaar staan hul dogter Elsje, verslaggewer van Volksblad, in die Wilgeheuwel-hospitaal in Randburg by. Sy het as kind breinkanker gehad en ’n gewas is nou in haar rug gekry.

Elsje het Maandag ’n biopsie ondergaan waarna die gesin gehoor het die gewas kan moontlik kwaadaardig of gevaarlik wees.

Net ná dié slegte nuus het die egpaar vir Jean-Marié op die O.R. Tambo-lughawe gaan haal om haar by die gesin in Johannesburg aan te sluit. Jean-Marié, ’n matriekleerling aan die Hoërskool Sentraal, het verlede week in Bloemfontein agtergebly om eksamen te skryf.

Op pad terug van die lughawe af na hul kind in die hospitaal, het die rower op hul motor toegeslaan.

Mev. Neethling vertel: “Ons het by die eerste verkeerslig op die Beyers Naudé-afrit vir die rooi lig gestop. Dit het soos ’n geweerskoot geklink toe die ruit langs my breek.

“Die volgende oomblik het die rower my gegryp. Ek is met die vuis geslaan. Ons het nie geweet wil hy ons kaap of wat hy wil hê nie.

“Toe ek sy mes sien, het ek besef ek moet hom iets gee. Ek het hom my selfoon gegee en Ryk het op die regte oomblik vet gegee en weggejaag.

“Ons sien uit daarna om in Bloemfontein terug te wees. Ek weet nie hoe mense met soveel vrees kan leef nie. Bloemfontein bly maar die beste.”

Sy en haar man sê die voorval was vir hulle en hul kinders baie traumaties.

Mev. Neethling sê verdere toetse word deur dokters gedoen om te besluit watter behandeling die beste vir Elsje gaan wees. “Sy is in goeie hande. Haar dokter is prof. Mauritz van den Heever, die neurochirurg wat haar 13 jaar gelede suksesvol vir breinkanker geopereer het.”

Ryk jr., wat in Arizona vir die volgende wêreldbyeenkomste oefen, gesels daagliks met sy ouers en siek suster oor die telefoon.