It's that time again.
I fly to Kenya in the morning, to meet up with Moses and the team in Kisumu. I am excited about this trip. I am going with David, a friend I was introduced to by Nicky. David is feeling a real call to supporting the work in Africa by doing what he knows best. Farming.
So this trip is all about the farm. And about making some of the work out in Kenya self sustaining. It will be a challenge. For the last few years we have leased 10 acres of land in the fertile highlands around Kitale, some three hours to the north of Kisumu. The land has provided enough harvest to ensure food supplies for the project for the year, with over 200 bags of maize filled up. We use about 100 for the work with the street children and in our orphanages and homes, the rest we sell to pay for the following years harvest.
But we have a bigger vision than that.
Our hope is to rent more land, to see a bigger harvest at a lower cost. We would like to ship out a couple of tractors, which can plough the land and make a rental income when they are not working for us. We would like to grow higher yield maize. We would like to establish a training centre and college where the boys currently on the streets or in care can come and stay and learn a trade and profession. We would like to earn enough from the surplus to fund, not only the college, but a buillding program to take more boys off the streets.
In short, we would like to make the project more self supporting and give the people who work out there food security. In Africa, that's a big goal. It's only a dream. We only have a vision and a prayer.
But we will see what the week brings.
I am excited.
Thursday 30 September 2010
Monday 20 September 2010
Tim's Great North Run
Just to say a huge thank you to everyone for their support during the Great North Run.
I completed the run in 2 hours, 25 minutes and 57 seconds, just as the heavens opened and the rain poured down on South Shields. It had been a really good experience up until then….
It’s an incredible feeling, standing in a crowd of 50,000 or so people, all of them running to raise funds for causes close to their hearts. As we were taking our positions at the start, on the central Motorway in Newcastle, the tannoy announcer asked us to take a couple of moments just to take in everything around us and to remember those that we are running for. For some people this was a poignant moment of reflection and recollection of loved ones no longer around, for others, perhaps, the thought of a cause close to their heart.
For me, as the strains of Abide With Me played over the loud speakers, my mind went back to Kenya, to the children there that we help and support, for all those that help to change lives amongst some of the poorest and most neglected communities.
“I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death's sting? Where, Grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.”
The music stopped and I looked around. It was almost time to go. What was that line? “I triumph still …”
On the big screen Ant & Dec set off the wheelchair runners, then the elite women and then it was our turn. They introduced Haile Gebrselassie and I knew then that the competition for this race would be a bit stiff. Oh well, it was never going to be easy.
And then we started to move forward, edging slowly towards the start line. I took off the bin bag which had been fashioned into a raincoat to keep my warm and dry until the start, excitement and nerves tingling down the back of the neck. This was it.
I crossed the start line 16 minutes after the illustrious Mr Gebrselassie, the chip timer firmly fixed to my running shoes beeped loudly, along with the hundreds of others attached to my fellow runners, and then we were off. Running down the motorway towards the Tyne Bridge the route was lined by hundreds if not thousands of people who had, rather sensibly, decided to watch instead of run.
After half a mile I rather wished I was one of them.
As I approached the Tyne Bridge I heard a roar. Thinking that maybe a large supporters group had just spotted me going past I looked up, just in time to see the red, white and blue smoke trails of the Red Arrows arcing over the iron girders of the bridges arches.
In front of me a sea of people, jogged inexorably towards South Shields.
The rain that dogged us prior to setting off had given way to a cloudy, muggy morning as we ran down to the roundabout, where Blaydon Races played out through large speakers, welcoming us to Gateshead.
I ran past a group of army guys in camouflage gear (must have missed them at the start?), running along with ridiculously heavy packs on their backs. As if it wasn’t hard enough! I sped past Wonder Woman, Spiderman and a shark, before being overtaken myself by the Fun Running Criminals.
A water stop at the 3 mile mark was very welcome, as were the bands on route who provided a musical backdrop to the pain I was feeling in my legs. The crowds had come out to the roadside now the rain had stopped and they encouraged, clapped and shouted as we went past. A group of young lads had obviously been for a raid on the Aqua Pura stand, as they had an array of squeezy bottles, which they aimed at vulnerable looking joggers.
The miles ticked past, 5 miles, then 6, then the halfway marker. In my mind I began to run back from places I had trained. “Well, if there are only 6 miles to go, then that’s like running back from Salterforth, along the canal, by Foulridge Wharf. I’m sure I can manage that”. The trouble is, the 7 mile marker never came. I strained my eyes ahead, thinking it must be imminent, but all I could see was a tide of runners heading for the coast.
Then, as I headed over the brow of a hill, the 8 mile marker approached. Oh, the relief! A whole mile further on than I thought!!
At about the 11 mile mark the run reaches South Shields and the dual carriageway is lined with houses and shops. Outside the houses, set up on the pavement, were all manner of tables and chairs offering sustenance. Jelly Babies, orange segments, drinks of water and coke and, almost unbelievably, one chap offering plastic cups of beer. He seemed to be doing brisk business, but I have to say that I declined his kind offer. I would save that pleasure until the race was done!
Then, suddenly, the road falls away, down towards the sea. The crowds increased and clapped and shouted encouragement. I headed down and turned left, to run the final mile along the sea front. The distance counted down, 800m then 400m then … well, you get the picture. It was quite moving.
I crossed the line, some two hours after the aforementioned Ethiopian, but in truth we both won our respective races. His was to confirm his status as one of the worlds greatest ever athletes, from humble beginnings in Africa, running the 10km to school every day clutching his school books, to the top of the world stage.
Mine was about humble beginnings in Africa too.
Thanks to everyone who has sponsored me, or any of the other 13 people who ran for the Trust this year. If you are inspired to make a difference, why not think about running next time?
We all met up on a grassy bank overlooking the sea in South Shields, clutching our goodie bags and medals, wrapped up in shiny space blankets to ward off the cold and the rain and etching a smile into pained faces as the camera flashed away.
Then the heavens opened.
It absolutely poured down. Rain like they only do in the North East. Or one of those tropical downpours we get in the afternoons in Kenya. But not as warm.
I looked around at the tens of thousands of other people who shared in this moment, at the friends and colleagues who had put in hours of training, covered hundreds of miles over the previous days, weeks and months, just to get to this cold and wet bit of coastline. And I was proud of us all.
"Who like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, LORD, abide with me"
I completed the run in 2 hours, 25 minutes and 57 seconds, just as the heavens opened and the rain poured down on South Shields. It had been a really good experience up until then….
It’s an incredible feeling, standing in a crowd of 50,000 or so people, all of them running to raise funds for causes close to their hearts. As we were taking our positions at the start, on the central Motorway in Newcastle, the tannoy announcer asked us to take a couple of moments just to take in everything around us and to remember those that we are running for. For some people this was a poignant moment of reflection and recollection of loved ones no longer around, for others, perhaps, the thought of a cause close to their heart.For me, as the strains of Abide With Me played over the loud speakers, my mind went back to Kenya, to the children there that we help and support, for all those that help to change lives amongst some of the poorest and most neglected communities.
“I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death's sting? Where, Grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.”
The music stopped and I looked around. It was almost time to go. What was that line? “I triumph still …”
On the big screen Ant & Dec set off the wheelchair runners, then the elite women and then it was our turn. They introduced Haile Gebrselassie and I knew then that the competition for this race would be a bit stiff. Oh well, it was never going to be easy.
And then we started to move forward, edging slowly towards the start line. I took off the bin bag which had been fashioned into a raincoat to keep my warm and dry until the start, excitement and nerves tingling down the back of the neck. This was it.
I crossed the start line 16 minutes after the illustrious Mr Gebrselassie, the chip timer firmly fixed to my running shoes beeped loudly, along with the hundreds of others attached to my fellow runners, and then we were off. Running down the motorway towards the Tyne Bridge the route was lined by hundreds if not thousands of people who had, rather sensibly, decided to watch instead of run.
After half a mile I rather wished I was one of them.
As I approached the Tyne Bridge I heard a roar. Thinking that maybe a large supporters group had just spotted me going past I looked up, just in time to see the red, white and blue smoke trails of the Red Arrows arcing over the iron girders of the bridges arches.
In front of me a sea of people, jogged inexorably towards South Shields.
The rain that dogged us prior to setting off had given way to a cloudy, muggy morning as we ran down to the roundabout, where Blaydon Races played out through large speakers, welcoming us to Gateshead.
I ran past a group of army guys in camouflage gear (must have missed them at the start?), running along with ridiculously heavy packs on their backs. As if it wasn’t hard enough! I sped past Wonder Woman, Spiderman and a shark, before being overtaken myself by the Fun Running Criminals.
A water stop at the 3 mile mark was very welcome, as were the bands on route who provided a musical backdrop to the pain I was feeling in my legs. The crowds had come out to the roadside now the rain had stopped and they encouraged, clapped and shouted as we went past. A group of young lads had obviously been for a raid on the Aqua Pura stand, as they had an array of squeezy bottles, which they aimed at vulnerable looking joggers.
The miles ticked past, 5 miles, then 6, then the halfway marker. In my mind I began to run back from places I had trained. “Well, if there are only 6 miles to go, then that’s like running back from Salterforth, along the canal, by Foulridge Wharf. I’m sure I can manage that”. The trouble is, the 7 mile marker never came. I strained my eyes ahead, thinking it must be imminent, but all I could see was a tide of runners heading for the coast.
Then, as I headed over the brow of a hill, the 8 mile marker approached. Oh, the relief! A whole mile further on than I thought!!
At about the 11 mile mark the run reaches South Shields and the dual carriageway is lined with houses and shops. Outside the houses, set up on the pavement, were all manner of tables and chairs offering sustenance. Jelly Babies, orange segments, drinks of water and coke and, almost unbelievably, one chap offering plastic cups of beer. He seemed to be doing brisk business, but I have to say that I declined his kind offer. I would save that pleasure until the race was done!
Then, suddenly, the road falls away, down towards the sea. The crowds increased and clapped and shouted encouragement. I headed down and turned left, to run the final mile along the sea front. The distance counted down, 800m then 400m then … well, you get the picture. It was quite moving.
I crossed the line, some two hours after the aforementioned Ethiopian, but in truth we both won our respective races. His was to confirm his status as one of the worlds greatest ever athletes, from humble beginnings in Africa, running the 10km to school every day clutching his school books, to the top of the world stage.
Mine was about humble beginnings in Africa too.
Thanks to everyone who has sponsored me, or any of the other 13 people who ran for the Trust this year. If you are inspired to make a difference, why not think about running next time?
We all met up on a grassy bank overlooking the sea in South Shields, clutching our goodie bags and medals, wrapped up in shiny space blankets to ward off the cold and the rain and etching a smile into pained faces as the camera flashed away.
Then the heavens opened.
It absolutely poured down. Rain like they only do in the North East. Or one of those tropical downpours we get in the afternoons in Kenya. But not as warm.
I looked around at the tens of thousands of other people who shared in this moment, at the friends and colleagues who had put in hours of training, covered hundreds of miles over the previous days, weeks and months, just to get to this cold and wet bit of coastline. And I was proud of us all.
"Who like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, LORD, abide with me"
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