Writing this between sets in the gym. Hong Kong Disneyland Hotel. We head to Bali tomorrow.
We flew overnight from the UK on Thursday. Checked into the hotel Friday afternoon. Two days in Disney. It's been everything I’d expected and a few things I didn’t.
No business this issue. The last few days have been entirely about family and that felt like the right thing to be honest about rather than shoehorn something in. We'll be back to the usual mix next week from Bali.
He won't remember it. That's not the point.
Before we booked, the usual comments came up. Not directed at us, just the general opinion that floats around whenever you take a two year old somewhere different. "He won't remember it." "It's more for you than for him." "Wait until he's older."
Cody is not going to remember the Frozen ride in twenty years. He won't remember the Mickey Mouse hat with the ears or walking through the gates on Saturday morning. But I've watched his face for two days and what's happening in his head is real. The excitement is real. He can't store the memory but he's storing something - the feeling of a weekend that was entirely about him, parents who showed up fully, and all the smiles and laughter that went with it.
Most of who we become is built before we can consciously recall any of it. I don't think you wait for children to be old enough to remember something before you give it to them.
“He won’t remember this. But it’s shaping who he is. That’s what matters right now.”
We were supposed to get a full night's sleep.
Friday night, 9pm, all three of us out. Thirteen hours on a plane had left us running on empty. The plan was simple…sleep, early start, Disney.
Except that isn’t how it went. Cody was wide awake at 1am. Not crying or unsettled. Just completely convinced it was morning and that we should all be participating in it.
So we put on a film. We're strict about screen time, genuinely strict, so this was the first movie we'd ever watched together as a family. Two hours of laughing and being silly in a hotel room in Hong Kong at 1am. Not what anyone planned…but one of those nights I'll remember for a long time.
The version of that night where we fight the situation leads to two exhausted adults and one upset toddler. The version where we accept it leads to an accidental core memory. The situation was the same. The decision to stop fighting it changed everything.
“Fighting a situation you can’t control costs more than embracing it.”
Three hours sleep. Eight kilometres. No regrets.
Saturday. Three hours sleep. Full morning at the park. Back to the hotel at midday for Cody's nap.
I had every legitimate reason not to train. Tired in a way three coffees weren't going to fix. Legs already carrying a day of walking. Jakarta is three weeks away and the sensible thing, arguably, was rest.
I did 8k anyway. Slowly. My body reminded me of that throughout. But I've learned that the sessions I most want to skip are rarely the ones that do the most damage physically…they're the ones that do the most damage mentally if I give in to them. The pattern of showing up is the thing I'm actually training.
The run got done. We went back to the park. I had eleven hours sleep last night. Writing this between sets in a hotel gym in Hong Kong is a sentence I didn't anticipate this afternoon, but here we are.
“The sessions you want to skip are rarely the hardest ones physically...but they’re often the ones that matter the most.”
Last issue I asked for feedback. Thank you to everyone who replied, I wasn’t expecting that many responses. The consistent thread was that the length is good and the balance is about right. If any of that changes, let me know. I’m writing this for you as much as I am for me. Thank you for being on this journey with me.
That's issue nine.
Bali tomorrow. Jakarta in 3 weeks.