A cracking good egg on the head

Recently, a non-violent protest occurred along the banks of Merri Creek in Melbourne. The group – Freestyle Cyclists. Their cause – the right to ride a bike without a helmet. Imagine riding along with your hair blowing in the wind, the dappled sunlight falling on the top of your head, and not finishing a ride with sweaty helmet hair. Quite an idyllic picture yes? 

 Exactly the image you conjured up? 

 

I am not sure how many of you get the magazine, The Melbourne Weekly Review, every week in your letterbox. Within the magazine there are my favourite sections – naturally these include the Epicurean coffee and food reviews. However, I also enjoy reading the editor’s comments by Virginia Trioli found within the first few pages. Her writing is sharp, poignant, witty, relevant, and while I may not agree with all her viewpoints, I do love her ability to capture an issue concisely (what was that Harvard fact about goldfish and 6 seconds?!).

A few weeks ago Virginia wrote about the Freestyle Cyclists and made a clear argument not against their protest, but was very much in favour of how as individuals within a society, we have responsibilities. These responsibilities include wearing seatbelts and helmets.  There were many comments opposed to her arguments of societal responsibilities - how wearing helmets doesn’t actually decrease costs to our health system, can somehow boost our activity levels, and how Europeans/US communities haven’t been wearing helmets for years.

So, the point of this blog and my two cents. Just over three weeks ago I had my first race of the criterium season; for those not in the crazy world of lycra, a crit is essentially riding around and around a closed circuit for a certain period of time. Fun right?! The road was a little bit damp from rain earlier that morning. We were on bell lap, and only had a few hundred metres and two corners left till the finish line. I had positioned myself well, was second female wheel, closely hounding the first female wheel, was in the front bunch of about 10 cyclists, and would be out of the wind when it counted. Perfect. Or maybe not.

Firstly there was the sickening sound of carbon against bitumen in front of me. Panic as Anna unsuccessfully tries to avoid crash right in front. Realisation that I have nowhere to go and am going to come off too. Pain in my neck as my head bounces off the ground like a rag doll. Fear given another 30 cyclists are right behind me. Shock sets in as marshals drag me off the road. Inability to handle my own blood results in distraction technique of becoming extremely chatty with anyone who is willing to listen.

To be honest, I was pretty lucky. No bones broken. Yes to all cyclists out there, my bike was fine; only a few cosmetic scratches. Lots of gravel rash, a bit of a nasty divot in the ankle (from which my doctor had great fun using scalpels and scissors to “cut away all the shit inside” – not sure if I needed to know that the original pair of tweezers weren’t long or sharp enough…) and a cracked helmet. A cracked helmet that saved my life.

To crack a helmet requires an extreme amount of force. Ever tried taking a hammer to one? Something my coach encouraged me to do to my helmet after I had cracked it. Just to get an awareness of how hard I had hit my head. 

Did wearing a helmet save my life? I believe so. At the very least, it saved me from a trip to ICU. Thanks and kudos to Specialized!

Am I believer in helmet laws, even when cycling recreationally? Definitely; every little bit helps in my books. Wearing a helmet can even help prevent getting an egg on your head; very unsightly for a lady. Admittedly, I am definitely not adverse to poached eggs on pumpkin polenta bread with thyme mushrooms, avocado and house-made spicy beans. Sorry, getting distracted by food as per usual.

Until next time,

Ride safe, ride happy, ride in the moment, and ride with a helmet,

Han

Free Beauty Treatments, Hot Chocolate + Mt. Hotham

Looking over Mt Hotham

For the past week I have been in Bright on the Kelly Cycle Coaching September Camp. As I am currently sitting in my cosy chair with the heater quietly pumping our warm air beside me, I can confidently say that I had an absolute blast on the camp. I can say this as I am no longer being flung across roads by Hercule’s strength cross-winds, I am no longer getting covered in cow shit churned up from the cyclists wheel in front of me, and I no longer have numb fingers from descending off Mt Buffalo in 3°C. Yep, camp was awesome! You think I am crazy right?

Not quite sure if I painted the best picture for you all after that introduction. Let me take a few steps backwards. The journey began bright and sparkly last Sunday morning when my teammate, Carley McKay, drove the two of us up to Bright. Just a quick shout-out of thanks to Carley for driving there and back; lacking cruise control and one leg doesn’t make for the best long-distance driving so I am extremely grateful to those who I can hitch a ride with!

Arriving at Bright Chalet, we were warmly welcomed back by the owner and his wife – Michael and Athalia. Carley and I did a quick test of two rooms; this included the traditional bed-bounce, bathroom check, and level of natural light. Once unpacked and settled in, I headed out for an ‘easy’ ride with Carley and two of the older boys. Definitely felt the lack of training post the hip arthroscopy a few weeks ago with my heart rate easily skyrocketing up into the 180 beats per minute for what was relatively flat and windless domain. Looking good for the week ahead of climbing….

We had a total of 18 athletes attend the camp. Of this, we had 5 girls and the rest was made up of mostly young teenage boys who have appetites that rival a small army. I literally couldn’t believe my eyes as plate after plate was consumed. For example, lunch consisted of a minimum of three sandwiches plus fruit, cake and muesli bars. Breakfast was a similar three-course affair usually of porridge, cereal, eggs, muffins, sausages, and toast. I had definitely forgotten the appetite of growing boys and have made a mental note to mention this to my mother next time she complains how much I eat.

With well-fueled bodies, we cycled up Mt Buffalo, Mt Hotham, Rosewhite, Buckland Valley, and other hidden gems outside of Bright. We also had skills sessions that involved cornering, jumping over broomsticks, and weaving around multi-coloured cones. All for a mini mars bar. Is the reason we are athletes simply because we love food? A high probability I think. There was also the amazing Belgium hot chocolate one afternoon in preparation for Mt Hotham the next day.

Spinning the Legs Over

Afternoons were spent recovering in the pool as a makeshift ice-bath, having strong showers to wash off the free mud packs we received during our rides, learning tactics from wiggly lines on a whiteboard, and completing laps around the obstacle courses. Evenings saw radio wars played where mock interviews in multiple languages taught skills such as how to deal with the media and how to handle Russian radio hosts trying to crack onto you. All in a days work.

 Bend and Snap - aka Core Work

Braving the chilly water to help recover the legs; I needed all the help I could get!

Yes, the riding was hard and intense, and I naturally had moments of questioning my own sanity – especially after slogging it up a mountain for hours and then having to descend without being able to feel my hands and hence my brakes. However, having the support of the whole group, whether it was from lending a hand to grab my spare leg or fixing bike issues, it was a pleasure to spend time with the team. From laughing so hard at bike horror stories involving female specific underwear, boxer shorts, or budgie smugglers, to enjoying Table Tennis Grand Slams in the evening. Kudos to Helen and Bob Kelly for putting on such a great camp.

Table Tennis (correction from Carol RE my previously labelled Ping Pong) Champs

 

Happiness occurs not only during the event but also in savouring the memories created. While we do need to be careful not to dwell too greatly in the past, we can boost our happiness by recalling moments of joy and delighting in experiences we have been blessed to have. I am still feeling warm inside from that delicious hot chocolate!

All the KCC Campers

Until next time,

Ride happy, ride safe, and ride in the moment,

Han

Celebrating our differences while remembering our kindred human spirit

“We are all different, there is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit”

This is just one of the many pearls of wisdom that came from Professor Stephen Hawkings during the Paralympic Games. For me it really struck a chord and articulates a fundamental belief. It also echoes the message of the SCOPE See Me September Campaign, a message that is encouraging people to look beyond the disability and see the person.

Admittedly, sometimes this can be tough. If an amputee walks past me, I am constantly checking out their leg to see what type of components have been used, what the design is, and if I need to do a sneaky iPhone camera pic so I can show my leg man, Cam Ward at APC Prosthetics, what I want my next leg to look like! On a side note, if anyone happens to stumble along a high heel foot for the right side in a US 8, feel free to send it my way. Willing to negotiate baking skills in return.

However, while my curiosity factor around prosthetic legs is due my similar circumstances, it is important to connect on a deeper level. We all have dreams, desires, hopes, fears, and a need to feel valued. This last one is critical. The need to feel like we are contributing to the world; the need to feel that we will leave the world a better place than when we entered into it. Whether this be from creating paintings for others to enjoy, cooking for our families, or volunteering down at our local Scout group, when we are helping others we are facilitating our own happiness and wellbeing. And this message is constant around the world, whether it comes from religious groups, scientific studies, government bodies, or the very communities we live in.

As such, when people get behind SCOPE’s campaign that encourages communities to welcome people with a disability, as well as ensuring their municipalities are accessible for all, the outcomes can benefit everyone. Not only does accessibility allow people with a disability to become involved, contribute, and feel valued, it also generates community wellbeing. While the Melbourne WalkWithMe event was last weekend, if anyone is in Bendigo on Saturday 15^th or Geelong on Sunday 16^th September, why not head down and show your support. For more details jump onto www.walkwithme.org.au. Not only will there be entertainment for the whole family, but also a few of our recently returned London Paralympians that you can go up to and have a chat with.

And what an awesome games London turned out to be! Not only in terms of how well the Aussie’s performed, but the general demonstration of what sport is truly about – bringing everyone together and breaking down those barriers. London has helped to shatter preconceived notions about disability and has helped to take society’s awareness into a whole new ball park. It was also fantastic how Prof. Stephen Hawkings challenged people to be curious, be creative, and question whether the boundaries we have created really exist. And so is my challenge to you – how can you use your creative talents to help others today?

Until next time,

Ride safe, ride happy, ride in the moment,

Han

Annie Skinne (VIS Para Equestrian), Natalie Palancian (SCOPE WalkWithMe Ambassador) 

and Han down at the Melbourne WalkWithMe Event

Living Every Day

We can often feel that once we have achieved a goal, won that gold medal, graduated from a university degree, own our on home, have kids, travel around the world etc etc, that we will be happier. Can’t you see the crystal clear water sparkling while you are lying in the deck chain in your bikini’s or speedos drinking coconut water out of a coconut with a little umbrella?! Bliss and happiness right?

While there is no doubt that lying on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean is very appealing, I am guessing that you are not there right now reading this blog post? So what are you doing today? Maybe some training, a recovery session, school, uni or work. Maybe catching up with friends for a coffee, taking the dog for a walk, whipping up a quick dinner. All normal, routine events yeah?

Since returning from my European adventure I have slotted extremely easily back into routine, perhaps a little too easily! Admittedly, hip surgery last week was slightly out of the ordinary but the fact that I knew the route to the hospital, where to park, and that surgery happens on Level 3, could all be considered part of my routine. As such, I have been struggling with how one can infuse each day with something new, creative or pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone. Making each day an adventure, challenging yourself, or appreciating the familiar, yet beautiful world we live in. Something that when travelling is very easy to do but perhaps less so when return to the comfort of our own homes.

It is easy to forget how precious each day actually is when we are caught up in the midst of our routines and daydreaming about when will be happier. I am actually reading this book at the moment called ‘The Happiness Project’ and it synthesises the wisdom of the ages with current scientific research. The author, Gretchin Rubin, embarks upon a year-long Happiness Project where she implements different monthly ‘To Do’ lists such as ‘Make time to be silly’ and ‘Be generous with my time’.

I drew a little bit of inspiration from her ‘Do a little bit everyday’ where one spends that odd 15 minutes de-cluttering, tidying or cleaning. I have had on my ‘To Do’ list for a little while ‘Clean desk’; the whole space was covered in old articles left over from university last year, superannuation forms, mole-check reminders and pens that have gone to pen heaven. When I realised that I had a spare 15 minutes before dinner, I began to tackle the mountain of paper. While I did need another 30minutes after dinner to complete the task, I can now see my beautiful wooden desk and have recycled, bagged or placed in-the-correct spot, all the loose pieces of paper that previously inhabited my work space. And guess what – it gave me an enormous sense of happiness to walk into my room this morning and see my clean desk. I now have a much more creative space and know that I haven’t won’t be getting any nasty reminders about bills that I haven’t paid, which equals peace of mind as well. Double tick.

So achieving little things, like tidying a desk or making a pot of jam for someone, can boost your happiness. Little things that can be achieved everyday. Little things like stepping-stone goals to our long-term goals – maybe it could be 5 chin-ups in the gym or adding a little creativity to your next assignment or taking a walk during your lunch break; we are definitely blessed living in Melbourne – the coffee capital of the world (yep, I am putting it out there! If anyone wants to disagree over a coffee just let me know). 

 What do your stepping stone goals look like?

Continuously achieving the little things so we can enjoy the journey, and make the most of every single day. Maybe we could all even take a moment to stop and smell the roses (or roasted coffee beans). 

The difference a little bit of care makes: A brief rendevous at the Avenue Hospital

Regular follows of this blog will know all about my European adventures. For those of you who are first-time visitors to this blog, welcome! Just to bring you up to speed the last three months have been extremely tough – I cycled up a few mountains, tromped around numerous well-worn tourist tracks over the UK, plus went off the beaten track all in the name of food and a good coffee. Yep, I was living the good life. However, during this time I had a return of my hip pain for which I had surgery last year. Definitely ‘not happy Jan’!

After coming back home I saw my surgeon, the fabulous Dr David Young (DY for short), down at Melbourne Orthopedic Group. While David is an insanely busy man, he will always make time for his patients, ensures he gets all the details, and covers all the bases. Something that I dare say is probably becoming quite rare in our high-speed society and 24/7 desire for anything and everything. After having nothing turn up on an MRI, we decided to go in for a hip arthroscropy to see what has been causing my pain and try to fix the problem once and for all.

Yesterday, Friday 24th August 2012, I went back into the Avenue hospital to have my second hip surgery. Unlike my first surgery where I went in to get DY’s opinion in the morning and was on the operating table that very night, I had had a whole 9 days to ruminate about my upcoming ordeal. Usually I deal with stressful events by using the power of distraction i.e. not thinking about the event I am stressed about until it arrives. Hence, by the time the stressful event arrives you have to live in the moment and don’t have time to get nervous or stressed. Genius really. As such, I made sure I chatted to all the nurses after I was admitted and I finally got to have a decent chat to my friend G who has also just gotten back from OS (he did have a bit of a chuckle that the only time I could find to talk to him that wasn’t at the end of the day was while I was waiting for surgery; I thought it was the perfect time for a catch-up!).

I suppose the reason for this post is to really give a massive shout-out to all the team at the Avenue Hospital down in Windsor. I couldn’t have asked for a better bunch of people. As an aside – it is a very small world. My brilliant Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioner, Michael Keshishian at Sakura, his partner was working that night and came in to say hi after my surgery. So not only did I get to meet a whole lot of new people but also had the loving faces of my parents when I woke up, an unexpected smiling face from Leor, and my new Dougal Superman Daffodil Day bear - courtesy of my mum.

However, I did find my power of distraction technique wasn’t quite strong enough when my anesthetist was going through the facts and figures associated with the general anesthetic, the epidural and all the painkillers I was about the have. Some of the stats were: 1 in 100 experience headaches, 1 in 550 chance of ongoing numbness for three months, 1 in 20 000 chance of permanent nerve damage or 1 in 200 000 chance of death. Queue for the expected hyperventilation. Thankfully Mark’s phone rang and he had to quell his compulsory pre-surgery prep talk to take a call for a few minutes. That gave me a chance to lie down, focus on breathing, stop my head spinning and resume some control of my faculties upon his return.

After that everything went smoothly. I had a lovely orderly, who is currently studying marketing (a very interesting combo!), a nurse who made sure I was rugged up nice and tight, an assistant nurse with the magical warm rug who helped out last year, and another man, whom I believe was helping out Mark, in the surgery room by the name of Tom. Tom was fantastic – not only a cyclist but also knew about all the great rides in Europe. Talking about cycling did the trick; I successfully managed to avoid thinking about the needle for the drip being shoved firstly into my hand, and after this didn’t work (apparently I have petite veins, which I naturally thank my mother for), we had to go down the side of my wrist. Joy. However, I soon had a surgery gin and tonic followed shortly by three glasses of champagne when the epidural went in. Ciao world, Bonjour sleep.

Part of the procedure is having a smiling face when you wake up. My lovely orderly was back and I had another friendly nurse to chat to while still in a semi-induced daze of general anesthetic. DY came over briefly – my hip is awesome, he just had to remove some adhesion's from my labrum. Other than that, two weeks of gentle spinning and then I am back on the bike. Awesome news.

This was followed up by extremely caring evening and night nurses. Can’t say I have ever had a catheter before, apologies if I am sharing a little too much, and I found it be an ‘interesting’ experience. On the one hand, it was great because I didn’t need to go to the bathroom and disturb the recent site of surgery. On the other hand, knowing that there is a bag at the end of your bed didn’t exactly make for the best bedfellows. I kept trying to compare it to being drug tested – didn’t quite manage to convince myself though.

I had a yummy brekkie of porridge and tea, with another familiar smiling face behind the breakfast trolley. Shortly afterwards it was back home for a nice warm shower, a change into non-hospital underpants, and a cup of green tea while reading The Age Epicure. Bliss.

Before I get too distracted by food or coffee, I would just like to say a MASSIVE thank-you to everyone at the Avenue Hospital. I truly felt like I was in extremely safe hands and that I was exceptionally well cared for. Sending out my best wishes to all of you.


Until next time,

Ride safe, ride happy, ride in the moment


Han

Yep, needles freak me out a little...

A Yellow Pair of Nikes

Instead of the typical swash-buckling adventures usually told in the current blog (I think i must be channeling the Captain Jack Sparrow I met in Edinburgh the other day - wooden leg jokes anyone?), today's blog post is more some general musings on what some would consider the most important component of a girls wardrobe - her shoes.

Now traipsing around Europe had resulted in some slight disintegration of my faithful Geox runners. It had gotten to the point of no return - my feet kept getting cold and wet from all the new holes and lack of sole. Good job I only have one foot to keep warm and plenty of soul! Wow, we are on a roll today.. So, as an early birthday present mum said she would buy me a new pair. Shoe shopping in Oxford - good times! After perusing a few stores and getting the shoppers disillusionment of 'why can I always find items when I am not specifically looking?!' we came across a shopping mall. Perfect. Right out the front was the traditional Nike/Adidas store. Double perfect. I head on in, full of renewed optimism and confidence. I walked out two minutes latter bitterly disappointed. Mum asked if I had looked in one particularly nook in the shop, I walk back in, and low and behold - the brightest pair of yellow Nike runners known to man kind. It was love at first sight.

Striking a pose with my new runners

Walking out of the store in my brand new runners, the Geox pair dumped ceremoniously in the bin, I feel like a new woman. Albeit a woman with extremely bright shoes on her feet; the new running family joke was 'don't look for Hannah, look for the shoes'. I loved my new runners but started having thoughts along the lines of 'is that person secretly laughing at me?', 'I wander if that cute guy over there is smiling at me or at my clown shoes?'.

Woah, woah, woah - wait a moment here Han. You are getting caught up in what other people think of you??! It was definitely time for some tough love and to revisit my values. Why should it matter what other people think of me? I can remember my mentor Donnie Elgin sitting down with the 9 year old version of my self and asking why I felt uncomfortable when people stared at my leg.
"Is their staring hurting you Han? Could you maybe be creating awareness that having one leg is not stopping you from getting out there and living life to the fullest?".  While it did take some time to change my thought process, I am now quietly proud of my black carbon fibre leg as I walk around in shorts or dresses; I think it looks dam sexy!

Also, I needed to remind myself that who am I to know what other people are thinking? You know the feeling when you are slightly self-conscious that you are wearing the same outfit you wore last Monday to work again the following Monday? I think traveling cured me of that - it got to the point of my three-day rotating wardrobe where I was jut happy that the clothes I had on where clean (tricky if you have been washing out of a sink for three months). But really, I can barely remember what I wore yesterday, let alone what other people wore last week!

After having these internal conversations and tough self-love, I pushed my shoulders back, held my head up and walked proudly down the main street in Oxford wearing my bright yellow runners. I loved every minute.

As an aside, I am having some difficulties keeping them clean - anyone have any suggestions?! Any help or direction would be great.

Till next time
Ride safe, ride happy, ride in the moment

Han

Family Ties

What type of image do you get when I say 17 days,  one car, four people who haven't spent more than 24hrs together since Christmas, 7 pieces of luggage, three spare legs, and a bike in the UK? Something resembling WW11 perhaps? Or did you go the optimistic kumbaya sing-along scenario? The truth is probably a mixture of both. Recent times have seen mum up in Sydney working furiously on delivering the national electronic healthy system to Australia plus doing a doctorate on the side through the University of Liverpool. My brother goes to Monash  Uni during the days, works most nights and is a foodie socialite in his spare time. John, affectionately dubbed JB, works long hours as an instrumental engineer, keeps the house running while mum commutes to Sydney Monday-Friday, and dreams of retirement. Me? I haven't seen Australian soil since May and am missing Vegemite terribly (imagine my excitement when I discovered mum had bough over a little pot and then discovering more at a supermarket in Oxford - score!). As such, some good family bonding was long overdue and promised to hold some memorable moments, even if these moments were heated arguments relating to navigational expertise.

The family reunion occurred at Heathrow airport. Everyone was looking a little worse for wear. Mum had been working 20hour days for the past two weeks, Duncan had just finished exams, JB had not slept a wink on the 36hr journey, and I had had about 5hrs sleep during the past 48hrs given a *small* hiccup in Barcelona that resulted in spending the night on some rather comfy airport floor and the shelling out of €487.... Lets save that story for another time - still a bit of a sore spot! 

You know when you get to the point and the only person in the world that you want to see is your mum? You just want to melt into her arms and feel safe from the world. Walking out of customs at Heathrow (hats off to the boys, had a brilliant run through) and spotting my mum in the crowd then dissolving into the mum hug was heaven. Just what the doctor ordered after the Barcelona debacle. Then the bro came to the rescue with carting the bike box around on the tube in London and JB carried my heavy backpack - I was definitely loving the family life! 

Some people may think that two kids in their twenties on a holiday for three weeks with their parents may be hell on earth, but, I have found that as my brother and I grow up, the more informal, relaxed and humorous our conversations with the parentals have gotten - especially after a few glasses of red wine or pints of cider. You get to know your parents more as people, who they are - as opposed to the providers of your daily needs. The relationship dynamics change, philosophical debates ensue, stories from hippy childhoods emerge. 

 

All aboard the Jacobite Steam train in Scotland (made famous by Harry Potter)

 

Not only did my brother and I get to know our parents a little better, I got to catch up with my brother and have some decent one-on-one bro / sis bonding. We both share a love of coffee and good food, wandering around markets and taking in the detail of the places we visit. A memorable brekkie in Nottinghill at Portobello markets saw an amazing apricot, ginger and walnut scone consumed. Plus being family, meals always means taste-testers of what each person ordered plus your own - the best way to dine! 

 

Punting along The Cam with my brother

 

From Stonehenge to the Highlands, Shakespeare to the West-End, black pudding to haggis, Jane Austin to Lewis Carol, Loch Ness monsters to walking the hotel dog - we did it all. I even managed to get JB out for a ride in his home town of Chester. This event was extremely fortuitous; driving back after visiting the stately ??? House, we made some unexpected turns down Cheshire lanes and on the side of on of these lanes was a group of club cyclists about to start their weekly 10mile time trial. The club was Weaver Valley Cycling club, the very club that JB had been a founding member of 50years before. Coincidence or fate?! 

After having a good chat and gander at all the decked-out bikes (some pretty flash wheels were being used), the decision was made to meet up for a pint down the road where the family could have dinner and JB's mates could come and chew the fat. During conversation I naturally popped the question as to where we could hire a bike for JB to go out on a ride tomorrow. In the space of about three sentences, it had been decided that tomorrow afternoon JB would be riding Graham's brand new bike in Weaver Valley gear with Dennis playing tour guide. 

 

 JB and Dennis modelling Weaver Valley Cycling Gear in Chester

The genuine generosity of these people meant that even though we got a 'tad' wet, the grin the next day on JB's face could not be wiped off for a good 48hrs. Here he was, on a bike, riding down the lanes of his childhood with a friend he hadn't seen in over 30 (maybe 40 - give or take) years. Like a pig in mud. Awesome and very special stuff. It was also nice not to have to worry about directions for the day and end up taking pictures of Pyramids instead of Buckingham house; yes, I can get very lost - remember the typical lack of direction in this female?!

I feel truly blessed to have spent three weeks in the UK with my family. It isn't everyone's cup of tea but for me, family is important. They are the people who you can turn when the cards fall on the floor, they are the people who truly know who you are - warts and all. There doesn't have to be any pretensions, all masks can slip away. I am not pretending my family is perfect - far from it - but I love each and everyone of them. So thanks Mum, JB and Schnooks for the wonderful times - Jamaica next?!

Till next time 

Ride safe, ride happy, ride in the moment

Han