Thursday 17 May 2012

Mudding and Scumbags

Scumbag Steve and Good Guy Greg - Tough Mudder Style

Get me with my "memes". Totally down with the kids, that's me.

I suppose this is kind of the sequel to "Running and Sine Waves" from back in October. I wrote about how I'm happy to live through short sharp bursts of effort, interspaced with periods of indulgent lethargy to recharge. I also spoke of the wonders of lycra running trousers, but that's beside the point.

Last Saturday was absolutely one of the bursts - me and three mates took on (and kicked the backside of) the innaugral Tough Mudder UK held in Kettering. Sadly, this time, the man-giant to lycra ratio was far from optimal...

Over the years I've learnt that a large proportion of people are, for want of a better term, assholes1. This applies in particular to large groups of blokes and particularly in particular to large groups of blokes attempting to show off in front of their peers and / or act like "the big man".

As I awoke on Saturday morning at 7.45am (Yes, that's SEVEN FORTY FIVE AM. On a SATURDAY) I began my physical and mental preparations for the 12 mile, obstacle filled death run that lay ahead of me. Physical preparation was 2 bananas, bottle of lucozade and a lot of stretching. Then came the mental side:

"Just remember. People are assholes. Assholes make you angry. Angry people get injured or hit things. Neither of those are good outcomes. Practice zen like calm. Ignore the assholes"

I repeated this to myself. Over and over and over again. Then. And only then. Was I ready.

After I arrived and signed in, I was certainly not disappointed by the Mudder population. There were more team T-Shirts than a Ryanair flight to Magaluf. The equivalent of the "Wigan Wife-Beating Club", "Thames Valley University Bukkake Society" and "Liverpool FC Supporters Club" (the worst of the lot) were everywhere I looked; equalled in number by the shirtless, bodypainted or "more tattoo than man" brigades.

But the potent combination of my steely mental preparation, the group warm-up and the amusing middle aged man in the start pen (intent on pushing his own - terrible yet brilliant - brand of americanised "hoo-rah" motivational rubbish) combined in a perfect storm of ridiculosity that cause my brain chemistry to flip.

The assholes didn't annoy me, they were quite simply hilarious. More than that, they were my team mates, my comrades and we were all after the same goal.

Then, the countdown began and before I knew it I was swept along in a sea of testostorised beefcake (with just a sprinkling of lady spartan) towards the first obstacle...

Tough Mudder 2012 - UK

Incidentally (although clearly not thinking about this at the time) the Tough Mudder inventors have come up with a ridiculously good business model. Take 10,000 people paying somewhere betwen £70 and £100 to take part (all paid 6 months before the event - not a bad working capital cycle). Add to that another couple of thousand spectators at £10 or £20 a pop. Throw in parking at £5 a car and a couple of lucratvie sponsorship deals and bam - you get some rich Mudders Funders.

Anways, back to the running. From the very first sprint, a number of my co-combatants lived fully up to expectations. Play fighting, swearing, pushing and barging past me - I even heard two guys discussing the most subtle way of ditching their slightly larger compatriot so they could finish in a faster time (this is not the aim of Tough Mudder).

This lack of team spirit was absolutely tipified by the actions of many on the biggest (12ft high) Berlin Walls. A true Scumbag Steve moment. These walls need teamwork to get over - if you're only 5' 10'' like me anyway. You need one or two men to boost you up and someone on top of the wall to grab your arm and help you to the top. Once you're up, grab the next guy (always grab the next guy!) and away you go. The number of people flipping over the top without even a cursory "thanks mate" was ridiculous.

Not our race - same walls

But then, on the second of these walls, something incredible happened. One Steve transformed right in front of my eyes into a Greg...

The second person of a two man team found that his "team-mate" had already flipped over the top and sprinted off. He tried desparately to run and jump up the wall - again and again. The look of genuine shock on his face when we got to the wall and offered him a leg up was astounding - as if he had never even considered this was a possibility.

He reached the top of the wall, every fibre of his being aching to be on his chavvy little way, but he stopped. He reached down and helped the first of our team up. This was the second greatest moment of the day.

I said before that "a number of my co-combatants lived fully up to expectations". This was true, but the number that did was completely overshadowed by those that didn't. The Timmy Mallet lookalike's chants in the start pen genuinely seemed to be taken to heart by at least 80% of the people on the course - "leave no mudder behind".

I was pulled out of rivers, pushed up mud-filled plastic tubes, applauded when running past groups of people waiting for their more portly compadres to catch up and high-fived for my technique down the slip 'n' slide. This made the whole experience more "fun" than "tough" (though don't let the organisers hear you saying that...).

Just as the wall tipified the bad, the giant half-pipe - a 16ft, slippery slope after 11.9 of the 12 miles had been completed - tipified the camaraderie and teamwork involved.

The Halfpipe

You stand at the bottom of this thing - watching people run up, slip and promptly faceplant into the plastic and slide limply back down - and think it looks impossible. It does.

You take a deep breath (you've just got out of freezing cold water following "walking the plank"), brace yourself, then sprint, sprint a bit harder, keep sprinting and hold out your arms (don't jump for gods sake). Then, if you're lucky (Really lucky as I was) The Rock's more athletic stunt double will catch you and haul you up to the top of the halfpipe.

It was then it dawned on me. It's not the people trying and failing to run up the halfpipe that makes this a spectacle. It's the tens of people lying on the top, having just run 12 miles and completed 20 obstacles, that stick around grabbing other people and flinging them up to join them that make this the best obstacle of the lot. There were shed loads of Good Guy Greg's up there.

And so came the best moment of the day. After about 10 minutes, the two of our team who had got lucky managed to catch and haul up the third. There was just one teammate left. Just him and his completely gripless trainers. To be honest, after 15 minutes I was starting to think he wasn't going to make it, but he gave it one more go. I'll never know how, but this time he ran a little bit harder. We caught him, dragged him up and the feeling was immense.

But that wasn't it. We looked at each other and it was clear we were all thinking the same thing - "just one more". Thankfully the next guy must've weighed around 8 stone. We almost threw him over the back of the halfpipe. Job done.

Just a swift jog through a forest of 10,000 volt (apparently) live wires and we were done. Knackered, freezing cold and feeling a little bit guilty. Guilty because I'd assumed everyone would be like the 20% that actually were Steves. They weren't. I know full well without at least a couple of Gregs (other than my teammates) the whole thing wouldv'e been a whole lot tougher, and a whole lot less fun.


1I in no way exclude me and my friends from this generalisation of people being assholes, in some circumstances I certainly fall into categorisation.

Sunday 13 May 2012

One Track Day


One track days

It always starts the same way. A song hits the iPhone, probably heard it 1,000 times before. This time, it’s different. Somehow it’s just that little bit more awesome. It’s possibly the single best song you’ve ever heard. Well, that day at least.

The song finishes – 3 little presses on the headphone remote and it starts up again. It’s just as good as before. Better in fact. Three little presses. Screw – this, “repeat one”…

Before you know it, it’s a One Track Day.

As a man with the attention span of a 2 month old puppy (and a tendency to make more mess), it shocks me that I can listen to the same song over and over again for a day, or even days at a time. Whether its numbing the tedium of an excel spreadsheet (Gimp! Gimp! Gimp to the beat!), blocking out the rest of the world on the bus or getting me through that last mile of a Sunday run – sometimes one song is all you need.

So, in a departure from my usual lazy ranting, I’m going to use this post to keep a record of these One Track Days – when and why did they happen and why are the songs just that damn good?

The plan is to update this post over time as more of these days happen – stay tuned for updates.

lostprophets – Last Summer

lostprophets - Last Summer (Live at Reading Festival 2007)
I was actually there for this, bang in the middle of the pit - it was awesome
"Top marks for the sitty down jumpy up thing"

Uni was over, I’d just moved into a flat with a particularly lucky lady (who’s still hanging around). I bought my first contract phone (a Samsung D800 – a brick. Later I lost this phone, ironically, at a lostprophets concert).

My D800 was the first mp3 device I owned – with a whopping 80mb of inbuilt memory – enough for one whole album. That album was the lostprophets’ second album, Start Something.

It was a sunny October morning back in 2005 and I was in the first month of my first graduate job. Striding along Regent’s Canal towards the Angel tube station on my way to another 14 hour session of making rich people richer, Last Summer came on.

Yes, it’s a good song, but it’s not even in my top 3 ‘prophets songs. That morning it just sounded a little bit different. The opening guitar tones hit me like a punch in the stomach that set off two competing impulses. First, pangs of longing for that week at uni after my final exams a few months earlier. Then, a burst of un-jaded enthusiasm and energy along with the desire to attack the day to come, and all the spreadsheets it would bring.

Repeat was hit, and this was my first One Track Day.

Brand New – Sowing Season

Brand New - Sowing Season

A good buddy (who incidentally I have not seen for far too long, must fix that) has the most ridiculous knowledge of music. I was getting sick to death with my narrow music collection at the time so I asked the young lad for a few albums that I should listen to. He came back with what can only be described as an incredible collection.

Futures by Jimmy Eat World. A brilliant album, Work is still a favourite today – but it never quite made it as a One Track Day.

Never Take Friendship Personal by Anberlin. Currently one of, if not the band I listen to most – but more on these guys later.

From Here to Infirmary by Alkaline Trio. The only one I never got into – just too punky for my taste.


Decemberunderground by AFI. Totally not my kind of music. Totally loved it – doesn’t really get a look in these days.

And finally, The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me by Brand New

This was the first of the albums he suggested that I got round to listening to. Track 1, Sowing Season – started off slowly, very slowly – I thought of Radiohead (it sounds nothing like Radiohead) and I wanted loud dammit. You’ve failed me! Oh cruel world! Buddy, what have you done? What is this rubbis…

Then it kicked in.

Then it got played over and over again.

That album has some incredible songs – You Won’t Know, Not the Sun, The Archers’ Bows Have Broken and, best of all, Jesus (which still gets played lots today).

In 2007 I saw them in the tent at Reading. The second most disappointing band I have ever seen live (after the Chilis at that same festival – they may as well not have turned up). The singer broke into a self-indulgent monologue about how we should love each other, recounting a story that sounded awfully like Joey’s “when I was hiking through the foothills of Mount Tibidabo” pick up line before giving a half-arsed rendition of a couple of songs. Ah well, at least the recorded stuff is good…

InMe – Soldier

 
InMe - Soldier (Live at the Islington Garage - December 2010)
Had to include this even though not best recording - I was there!

Inme - Soldier

If there was an award for the most “One Band Days” of any artist – InMe would take it without a shadow of a doubt. I don’t usually have favourite anythings, but this is my favourite band.

There was no special event, no special memory here – it was just the first time I played through the Daydream Anonymous album. I generally dislike every new song or album when I first hear it (not in a “I prefer the old stuff” / “the book is better than the film” pretentious kind of way mind you – songs just tend grow on me). Not this song. No growing required.

After the distinctive mechanical whir, Soldier started playing and it didn’t stop for about 3 days straight. It’s one of those songs you just know before you’ve ever heard it – perfectly written with more energy than a colony of Duracell bunnies in mating season and more heart than 106.2.

Incubus – Dig

Incubus - Dig

Next month I am finally going to see Incubus live. I will be truly gutted if they don’t play this song.

This one I remember clearly. I was listening to Light Grenades whilst walking home from Highbury & Islington tube after a day that was in dire need of the rage spoon (sadly, it hadn’t yet been invented). I was properly peeeeesed awf with someone at work – I don’t remember why - but it was still light outside so I can only assume it was for something that was about to happen over the next few days rather than something that had happened that day (otherwise I’d have been in the office until much later…).

All of a sudden, I snapped out of my rage and heard the line:

“We all have someone who digs at us – at least we dig each other”

Rage vanished, and a smile came back as my head was filled the incredible soundfield I only get from that song. I can’t really explain what I mean by “soundfield” other than it feels more like the music is in my head coming out into my ears rather than being pumped in by my headphones.

Silversun Pickups – Growing Old Is Getting Old

Silversun Pickups - Growing Old Is Getting Old

More than just the name of my “30 before 30” blog (shameless plug1), this song is inextricably linked to one of the best 6 month periods of my life – 2009’s trip around the world.

Silversun Pickups are Another band recommended by my musical guru friend and are typified by one of the most unique voices – “The Girly Man” as so beautifully named by my fiancée (although sadly not spoken in a mock McBain accent). This is the only one track day so far shared by anyone else.

Back in November 2009, we’d hired a convertible in Port Douglas (Oz) to drive up to the rainforest at Cape Tribulation. OK, it was a crappy blue Vauxhall Astra convertible, but that’s not the point. We crashed out in a wooden hut hostel room and stuck Swoon on the travel speaker. The smooth baseline starts off as almost soothing but, without changing, builds and builds until the guitar lands and the snare joins in. I’d never describe a song as “intense” but that’s the word that comes to mind.

Dave McPherson – Before I Even Had You

Dave McPherson - Before I Even Had You (Live)

Friday January 7th, 2011. Questions were asked. Answers were given (in the affirmative) and now there’s some kind of important day coming up on the 18th August this year.

The other involved party and I rarely agree on music. Very rarely. She like the pop, I like the metal. Well not “real” metal, more 80s rock and / or borderline emo rubbish.

However, a young Essex lad by the name of Dave McPherson changed all that. By day as the lead singer / guitarist of InMe he unleashes punishing yet melodic riffs towards unsuspecting cochleae, but by night he will folk you senseless with his acoustic guitar.

The man has a ridiculous voice – he can seamless switch from wailing like a banshee to softly hitting the highs, all without annunciating a single letter “t” in the true Essex fashion. It’s one of those voices that recordings don’t do justice and has to be heard live.

It’s for exactly that reason we asked him to play at our wedding (and for some unknown reason he said yes!). I am still fully expecting it not to happen due to a scheduling conflict but it would be simply awesome.
Shortly after booking I did a youtube scan – looking for covers he’s done before and some of his own stuff that he could sing on the day. Pre the release of The Hardship Diaries, Before I Even Had You could only be found online (or on a ‘live in concert’ CD). I stumbled across it and stayed stumbled. No point me trying to describe it, just listen!

Roxette – The Look

Roxette - The Look

Back in March of this year my work team did a 30 mile tandem bike ride for Sport Relief. This was clearly a ridiculous idea from the start. Unless, of course, we had tunes. So armed with my cub-scout square lashing skills, a shoelace and an Altec Lansing pocket speaker I fashioned the finest helmet-blaster the world had ever seen.

The only thing that could possibly go on such a playlist would be selected classics from Now That’s What I Call Music (numbers 1 through 80 inclusive). It was there I rediscovered The Look.

It wasn’t until the Friday after the cycle that The Look got it’s day. Out the door of the office at 5pm sharp, the sun was beaming down and I had a night of London’s finest comedy to look forward. But first – Cocktails! (The Chilli Martini at Sophie’s Steakhouse in Covent Garden is one of the finest inventions of our time).

Sadly, nobody – not even my “half day” school teacher fiancée – could meet me before 6.30pm that evening so I had some time to kill. Sat with the tourists in a Covent Garden Starbucks I started my Roxette binge. I bounced round the streets with a stupid grin on my face near-dancing round the irritating street performers, pickpockets and Maxwell’s flyer distributors.

After about the 10th play of the song, I started to have a long intellectual thought debate with myself – one that I am still to resolve…

At precisely 3:10 (just after “and I go la la la la la”) I am unsure if there should be one more beat before we “na na na na na”. I will take it upon myself to one day edit the extra pause into the song. Then I’ll know. I’ll know for sure.

Coheed and Cambria – Pearl of the Stars

Coheed and Cambria - Pearl of the Stars

A few weeks back, I figured I ought to make a start on my wedding speech. The task of pitching a speech somewhere that makes the bride’s friends both laugh and cry (“do both” – not “both friends”, she does have more than two friends), reeling out a list of thankyous, and pre-empting the incoming character assassination from the best men (the downside of choosing four) and then delivering it to 100 people is daunting to say the least.

I stuck on some tunes for a bit of inspiration. Bad idea. My ipod is mainly filled with angry music – Coheed and Cambria are (is?) no exception. Tracks like Apollo I: The Writing Writer with romantic lyrics such as…

 “So cry on bitch, why aren’t you laughing now?”

…don’t exactly put one in the correct mindset to write a sonnet.

Then Pearl of the Stars came on, by the same band. His voice is, again, completely unique. The song is simple and beautiful – no other way to describe it. I stopped trying to write the speech and just stuck it on repeat – all afternoon, all the way home on the bus, then I demanded that the lovely lady listened to it on my AV system. Twice.

I did in fact consider stealing a lyric for the speech…

“I’d give you everything – if only I’d have known you’d take it. But you don’t. Cause you’re you. That’s why I’ll always love you”

…but only for a second. Cause not even I am that cheesy and besides, stealing song lyrics is lazy lazy lazy.

Anberlin – Dismantle.Repair.

Anberlin - Dismantle.Repair

I told you they’d be back! Anberlin have actually had a couple of One Track Days to their name. The first was Adelaide – it’s happy, simple pop-rock tune that woke me up on the bus and proceeded to get me through a morning of detailed P&L modelling (aaah, Project Ellsbury).

But that’s not the song in the heading now is it? That’s a whole different story…

Last weekend was the 5th annual May Bank holiday lad’s extravaganza. Barcelona was this years’ victim. In a break from tradition, night 3, the Sunday night, was hit almost as hard as the other two. I awoke Monday morning to head to the airport, my internal organs pickling in Absolute ChamBulls2 and having had less sleep in three nights than empty bottles produced in one.

I collapse onto my oh-so-comfy easyjet seat (yes, sarcasm) and adopt “the position” – headphones in, hood up, wire tucked down collar and into my iPhone in my pocket as I flagrantly ignore requests to “turn off all electrical devices”.

I want some chilled music – so Anberlin is the obvious choice. On it goes and off I doze…

Shortly after takeoff Dismantle.Repair. starts up – the first soft chord progression oscillates from left to right ear and I dropped a bit deeper in my seat,  on the verge of slumber. Then the bridge kicks in (“things are going to change now, for the better”) – I’m well aware I’m awake, but still relaxed as the chorus is nowhere to be seen. Instead, the next verse rolls calmly through, with just a hint more urgency in the drums until “the orchestra plays on”. Then the bridge is back. Damn you bridge, I’m trying to sleep here (“things are going to cha-aaaaa-aaange”).  I know what’s coming next.

The chorus lands and instantly I’m wide awake – “Hands like secrets are the hardest thing to keep from you” (what a line). Dancing around in my seat - I can neither confirm nor deny if there was air drumming. I cursed the song for stealing the four minutes of z’s I was planning.

It was OK though, as soon as the song finished I fell fast asleep. Woke up on touchdown (as usual).
The One Track Day with Dismantle.Repair. was in fact two days later – on my return to work. It was one of those days where everything went wrong. With not enough relaxing done on my arrival home I was landed back at work onto a fan-full of excrement. Deadlines piled up on deadlines whilst my head was working at no more than 50% power.

The song played non-stop between 9am when I sat down and 7pm when I finally left the office and kept me going through the day. It got played all the way home as well…

Enter Shikari – Gap in The Fence

Enter Shikari - Gap In The Fence

I’ve always wondered if anyone else gets the same sensation as me. It’s this…

You’ve been feeling ill for a few days then all of a sudden that day comes when you’re feeling only a little bit worse than normal. The adrenaline rush I get that morning from the fact I’m no longer feeling quite as bad makes me more hyperactive and smiley than I am on my best days.

I’ve learnt that Enter Shikari can push this even further – make the high even higher. I’ve used loads of their songs to do this (I sound like a junkie...) – Hectic has worked, as has Wall (the lyrics to this song are stupid, yet genius) heck even the self-titled track Enter Shikari has been used on occasion. Today though, I chose Gap in the Fence.

I have to say, the fact a bunch of lads from St Albans of all places (home of the wealthy yummy mummies who have snagged themselves some London City folk) spend most their time writing self-indulgent rants complaining about the injustices of today’s capitalist society, the lack of class equality and the constrained monotony of today’s society amuses me no end. Thankfully, they write some cracking tunes to go with it.

Gap in the Fence is absolutely one of these. It is an absolute Epic (no not as in “lolcats iz epic winz”, epic as in epic, big, the real meaning of the word). The first 2 minutes and 1 seconds are the closest a song sung by a man with his voice could ever get to beautiful. The lyrics – centred around from breaking from routine and doing something different (with a spattering of “we want equality”) – hit home today given the inception of my 30 by 30 list the day before1!

The build from 2:02 to 2:31 into the dance samples is one of their finest and the song would be great even if it stopped there. It doesn’t. The last crescendo from 3:26 when the guitars growl back in is nothing but unadulterated epic win.

1Shameless plug - go and visit http://growingoldisgettingold.blogspot.com
2 A potent yet tasty combination of Absolute Vodka, Champagne and Red Bull – hence the name

Monday 7 May 2012

My Sincerest Apologies

"I have, however, made it my mission to never overestimate my own importance.

Herein lies my dilemma. Pretention, self-indulgence, pomposity - blogging absolutely ticks every one of these boxes" (26th May 2011)

The above quote is from my first blog post - "disclaimer" which I wrote just less than a year ago.

Today, I'm feeling a bit fragile after the traditional May bank holiday weekend so I decided to have a read through my old entries.

All I have to say is that I am sorry - I've become everything I hate - an obnoxious and pretentious know-it-all using stupid flowery language and bringing in obscure references to economics and 90s TV shows that serve no purpose other than to make me sound like a complete tool.

...and that's before I even go on to the content of what I've written about! Topics such as drinking, dieting, failed house moves, more dieting and AV equipment could hardly be more dull and the 'opinions' I've shared on topics such as charity collectors, capitalism and ex-colleagues make me sound like my hobbies should include moonlight strolls and kitten strangling.

Then I realised that I'd actually achieved what I set out to do - remind me of some of the things that are just ridiculous in this world and point them out in a way that makes it quite clear to me how wrong they can be. Of course I don't actually have anything against charity workers, East London Trendies or the (often very hard working and competent) conveyancing solicitors. For me, it's rarely about what I'm actually typing about, more just a reminder of the bizarre thoughts that cross my mind from time to time.

As I said almost a year ago - this blog is by me, for me and I reckon it does that job fairly well. I've actually quite enjoyed flicking back over the events of the last year today. I'll never forget how good it felt to finish the half marathon in a half decent time - but it was also good to have a quick re-read of the doubts I had in my head back in September. Similarly, looking back and seeing how genuinely angry I was about the house move at the time, but now thinking about how much better life is given that the move DIDN'T happen puts a nice perspective on things. Finally, I still think FYB.com will make me millions. Mark my words.

So I'm going to keep doing it - flowery language, crappy metaphors and all - because it's something that amuses me, because it reminds me of what I was thinking at that moment in time, because it gives me something to do in the office on a Friday when I really don't feel like doing any real work and because it's led to some great arguments with my bestest buddies (I'm still waiting for your "book better than film reposte", you know who you are and you've raised expectations sky high. No pressure).

I'm pretty sure that I'm not (quite) as much as an a-hole as this site makes me sound and I hope that at least some of friends would agree.

Well, this certainly wasn't what I was planning when I opened up the laptop - flip flopping all over the place and almost doing a mini "year in review". In fact, I wanted to write about Barca, but I think I'll wait to do that until I've had a chance to recover...

So instead, let me summarise the post:

I'd like to say "Sorry for being a dick" and "Sorry for my mediocre (at best) chat" but I'm not going to. 'Cause I'm not sorry. Not in the slightest. The last year has been an excellent one and it's good fun to look back on things, and then get back to looking forward to what comes next...

Cheesetastic eh?