Enjoy the Walk: Home Truths

Written By Kim Manunui

Let me tell you something about time. It's a sneaky bastard.

One minute you're a fresh-faced PGA pro, dragging clubs through airports to play any tournament in Europe that'll have you. The next minute – well, the next minute is apparently over twenty years later, and you're standing on the first tee unable to remember the last time you hit a ball that didn't hurt.

I've worked in golf for thirty-five years. Head Pro and Director of Golf at The Kinloch Club in Taupō since it opened in 2007. Sent thousands of people out to enjoy this game. And me? I stopped playing.

Not officially. Just quietly. The way life does when work takes over and a week becomes a month becomes six years where I'd struggle to say I'd played a dozen rounds.

Last year I played one round. This year? One round. New Year's Day. Felt every shot the next morning.

The Shoulder and the Sorry State of Affairs

Here's the truth. I haven't just been busy. I've been broken. Not dramatically. Just a dull, nagging, middle-aged kind of broken. A bad shoulder that's been barking. Every time I hit balls, I felt it the next day. So I stopped.

And while I wasn't playing, I wasn't moving. And while I wasn't moving, the midriff expanded. Let's call it what it is: freight. The moobs aren't quite sports-bra territory yet, but it's time to fight back.

Not a drinker. No secret gin habit. But sugary foods? Biscuits? Death by a thousand crumbs.

The Reckoning

So here I am. Fifty-something. A PGA pro who used to play decently but now rarely makes it to the first tee.

I'm not trying to win The Masters. I just want to enjoy hitting a ball again. To stand over a five-iron and feel like I've got half a chance, rather than feeling nothing but the quiet humiliation of remembering what I used to do.

But you can't rock up after six years and expect magic. So I've got to begin where it actually starts. Not on the range. In the kitchen.

Phase One: The Grumpy Bastard Diet

No sugar. No rubbish carbs. Water. Veggies. Self-pity.

I'm going to be a grumpy f**ker for two weeks. Sugar withdrawal is real. Headaches are coming. Irritability too – hope the family don't change the locks.

I've stood over a three-foot putt to make the cut. I've flown halfway around the world with blind hope. Surely I can survive a few days without chocolate biscuits.

I'll tell you exactly how many kilos shift. Half or one-and-a-half – you'll know. No hiding.

Phase Two: The Return to the Range

Once I'm carrying less freight and my shoulder stops screaming, I'll hit balls. Not hundreds. Wedges. Pitches. Putts. The boring stuff that actually builds a game.

Walk nine holes casually. Not keeping score. Learning to enjoy the bad shots as much as the good ones – because there are going to be a lot of bad shots.

The goal isn't glory. It's a flushed iron. A holed putt. A bunker shot that sits down softly. The small victories.

What This Blog Is (And Isn't)

This isn't a how-to guide. It's a what-happens-when story. What happens when a middle-aged golf pro who's barely played for six years decides to turn back the clock? When the body says "no" and the ego says "remember when?"

I'll document the weight, the grumpiness, the first flushed five-iron. And the failures. The biscuits I eat anyway. The mornings my shoulder hurts and I convince myself it's not worth it.

No Hollywood montage. Just a bloke in New Zealand trying to find his way back to a game he started forty years ago.

Join Me (Or Just Laugh at Me)

If you're a golfer of a certain age who's let things slide – injury, work, life – maybe this resonates. If that old bugger Tommy can do it, maybe you can too.

Or just enjoy watching someone fall on his arse. I've got broad shoulders. One of them even works occasionally.

Every fortnight, new post. New weight (hopefully lower). New adventures (hopefully not too humiliating).

I keep telling people to enjoy the walk. But here's the thing – I haven't been walking at all. It's time to learn to crawl again.

See you in two weeks.

– Tommy

Next time: first fortnightly weigh-in, first tentative swings, and whether I've stayed out of the biscuit tin.

Kim Manunui

Hi, I’m Kim and I work with a great team to help individuals, as well as small and not so small businesses get their message, product and services to the world using digital media and creating wonderful websites that don’t cost the earth.

I was born in Canada, and grew up around Vancouver and the mountains of British Columbia. My love of pristine environments led me to New Zealand and eventually to the mountains, lakes and rivers of the central North Island which is home. My family’s heritage is here, and it’s from here that Korio traverses the planet.

The digital world is never static and neither are we.

And I say ‘we’ because I work with an awesome group of talented people who I gather together as required to complete a project.  Whatever your business, not-for-profit or individual needs are we gather the best team to get the job done.

Collaboratively we are creative, share sustainable values and work hard for great outcomes because that’s the buzz of satisfaction that drives us.

If you have an audience and market to reach, we can make that happen. Creative design, words that work and smart behind the scenes stuff that cuts through the online noise. We’ll design your website and then build it. We’ll manage the content as well as all your hosting needs. We can handle your online advertising so you get noticed,
and we’ll manage your social media presence so you get the clicks, likes and engagement to grow your business. All within the budget you set, because none of this needs to cost the earth.  And the job doesn’t stop when your website goes live. We are your virtual business partner.

https://www.korio.co.nz
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A Master at Augusta