This has been a very inconvenient film. Here is me thinking that the quality of movie storylines has become so utterly rubbish (sequels and re-makes coming out of where the tinseltown sun don't shine) that the chances of a newie disturbing the peace and tranquility of the Ady top five were about as big as England winning a penalty shoot out (for those of you in Canada or the States - hey! I have some readers in Canada and the States!!!!!!!......either that or it's the same guy, and he has a REEEEALLY big commute - it's a soccer reference, and Englands latest demise). Nevertheless, The Adjustment Bureau has muscled its way in; how very dare it. Not decided which movie gets the heave-ho, but it is NOT going to be happy about it I can tell you. On reflection I should have dumped City Lights, as it was already giving me the silent treatment (sorry!).
It's another film which taps into my soul (do you think this might possibly maybe be a common factor in my best films?!!). Have you ever believed in something so strongly, wanted something so strongly, wanted to do something so strongly; that no matter what obstacles are put in your way, you will never give up on it? When all around are telling you it is a monumentally bad idea; when circumstances, or even fate is giving you all the signs that it is wrong, but you believe it's right. Against all the odds, against all the advice, even against destiny; you fight for it, and you succeed. Is that powerful or is that powerful? (and yes, I know I have not given you a great deal of choice there; it's my blog, so there!). Stories like these not only touch my soul, they are part of it; they stir it; and The Adjustment Bureau is the ultimate soul-stirring story (try saying that with a lithp!).
Trying to avoid the risk of giving away too much; the film is centred round Matt Damon (yes, I know, I am loving a film starring Matt Damon........just couldn't help myself, no matter how hard I tried!), a young ambitious politician with designs on the White House, until he meets a woman (isn't that always the case; ALWAYS the woman!) who inspires him and changes him. Hovering in the background all this time are mysterious - and slightly magical - suited and booted men whose job it is to make sure everyone follows 'the plan'. Who these men work for, and who writes this plan (assumed to be the same person) noone knows; but one thing is for sure, they definitely do not want our boy and girl to be together, and they do everything within their considerable powers to tear them apart. Do they succeed? Well, I will leave that to you to find out.
For me, a film like this is the ultimate date, as it offers something for the lady (love story, passion, feeling, Matt Damon if he's your thing) and the fella (slightly science fiction, slightly fantasy, Emily Blunt if she's your thing); and there aren't many movies like this.
I am fully aware that sometimes a strong belief in something is not enough; sometimes you try so hard for something and it doesn't work out. Life is regretfully (although looking at the 'SAW' series of films, mercifully) not always what you see on the big screen. But surely the risk of failure should not be the factor that stops the attempt? Best case scenario, you succeed; worst case, you don't; but you have given it a bloody good go, and there is such merit and solace in that. Isn't this a principle worth celebrating? It is certainly the principle of the movie, of me......and let's face it, of this blog. I am sure anyone hearing about what I am trying to do has doubts about whether I can make it (I know I do), some may even think I should not attempt it; but I truly believe in it, and I am going to give it my all; in the face of any negativity or doubt. I guess this is why the film resonates with me so much.
If we try so hard for something, can we re-write the rules of possibility, and change our destiny?
Saturday 30 June 2012
Wednesday 27 June 2012
Weigh in (52)
It would have been a bit of a damp squib if the 52nd weigh-in celebrations (I had party poppers and everything; bit pathetic doing it on your own though.........while watching Star Wars on DVD........and surveying my prized stamp collection......having just got back from a whole day on the local train station platform) was marred by a gain in weight wouldn't it? It was a close one, I can tell you.
After a quick-ish sesh at the gym (including 6km on the FFG), the worst was feared. For some reason things just seemed to be fitting a bit snugger around the waist than the day before, and past experience (is there any other kind?) when this happens is of an entirely negative nature when getting on a set of scales.
Surprisingly, the weigh in gave two results rather than the one. The first was 'Lo'; which was either a qualitative comment of what my weight was going to be (clung on to that one), a sign that my scales had got so bored it was trying to quote me lines of the bible, or maybe possibly the slimmest chance that the battery was on its way out. Want to take a vote on it?
Anyhoo; considering my frame of mind when getting on the scales, It was very pleasing to find out that not only had I lost weight; I had also stayed the same! This was bound to come back and bite me on the bum wasn't it? Unofficially I have lost 0.6 pounds, but officially that takes me from 16 stone 5.4 (worked for me last week, not this week!), to 16 stone 4.8; so frustratingly the roundy rules keep me at the 5 pound level. GRRRRRRRRRRR!
No complaints; I think it's a fair result (I also think it might be the first time I have ever been unchanged on a weigh in?). No takeaways this week, and much less booze too; plus three good turns at the gym and a bit of social badminton on the Friday (where, may I say I hit a level I have not been at for quite some time - good level that is! - ....proper little athlete bouncing round the court). Lots in the 'tick' column. I am however a little concerned by the nibbling between meals trap I seem to be falling into; and that, I think, is the difference between losing decimals, and losing full pounds. A particular problem is last thing at night, in a tired stupor picking something up on the way to bed; not hungry, and not really knowing what I'm doing until I already have a gob full of sandwich. So it's a three meals a day mission this week, and staying vigilant against stealth snacking. There is very little wrong with what I am eating, so as long as I stick to it (and even allowing for the Chinese/ten-pin bowling night with the badminton posse......that's Chinese meal and regular ten-pin bowling) we should be looking at a more successful result this time next week.
All that said, it was a nice feeling to see the scales saying 16 stone 4 point anything! Switch the 6 and 4 round and I think we might be looking at our - well...my.... - target weight folks. That makes it less then two stone to go!
After a quick-ish sesh at the gym (including 6km on the FFG), the worst was feared. For some reason things just seemed to be fitting a bit snugger around the waist than the day before, and past experience (is there any other kind?) when this happens is of an entirely negative nature when getting on a set of scales.
Surprisingly, the weigh in gave two results rather than the one. The first was 'Lo'; which was either a qualitative comment of what my weight was going to be (clung on to that one), a sign that my scales had got so bored it was trying to quote me lines of the bible, or maybe possibly the slimmest chance that the battery was on its way out. Want to take a vote on it?
Anyhoo; considering my frame of mind when getting on the scales, It was very pleasing to find out that not only had I lost weight; I had also stayed the same! This was bound to come back and bite me on the bum wasn't it? Unofficially I have lost 0.6 pounds, but officially that takes me from 16 stone 5.4 (worked for me last week, not this week!), to 16 stone 4.8; so frustratingly the roundy rules keep me at the 5 pound level. GRRRRRRRRRRR!
No complaints; I think it's a fair result (I also think it might be the first time I have ever been unchanged on a weigh in?). No takeaways this week, and much less booze too; plus three good turns at the gym and a bit of social badminton on the Friday (where, may I say I hit a level I have not been at for quite some time - good level that is! - ....proper little athlete bouncing round the court). Lots in the 'tick' column. I am however a little concerned by the nibbling between meals trap I seem to be falling into; and that, I think, is the difference between losing decimals, and losing full pounds. A particular problem is last thing at night, in a tired stupor picking something up on the way to bed; not hungry, and not really knowing what I'm doing until I already have a gob full of sandwich. So it's a three meals a day mission this week, and staying vigilant against stealth snacking. There is very little wrong with what I am eating, so as long as I stick to it (and even allowing for the Chinese/ten-pin bowling night with the badminton posse......that's Chinese meal and regular ten-pin bowling) we should be looking at a more successful result this time next week.
All that said, it was a nice feeling to see the scales saying 16 stone 4 point anything! Switch the 6 and 4 round and I think we might be looking at our - well...my.... - target weight folks. That makes it less then two stone to go!
Tuesday 26 June 2012
The Movies.........Cine-Trau-ma
The romance with movies began, and almost ended, in 1979, with the very first trip (Davenport Theatre......but the story of that establishment is for another post). Astoundingly (??!!?**?!) the original, pre-special effects version of 'Spiderman Strikes Back' has not made it into the Ady top five (It is a film which is nigh-on impossible to find on DVD, thus sparing us all! It's only claim to fame was that Spiderman himself was the fella who played the eldest Von Trapp son in 'The Sound of Music'. Your life is complete at that little snippet of information isn't it now?); but at the age of 6 I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. A huge screen displaying this masked fella in all his spideryness who could crawl up walls???!!!! There was noone in the cinema in a greater state of chair-end perchedness than me I can tell you. The special effects were utter rubbish (dubious usage of cables and winches; not to mention a huge harness secreted under his spidey-suit), but to me it seemed so utterly real. Aaaaaah, the innocence of youth!
Now, back in them there days films had a mid-movie interval. Remember that? Whatever happened to films having a half-time eh? Just enough of a pause to grab a vanilla tub, visit the little boys room (not necessarily in that order), and have a chat with your big sister about what's going to happen in part two. Well......that's what is supposed to happen.....
Big sis Clare patted me on the knee and popped off to the back of the auditorium to pick up said tubs (Lyons Maid....mmmmm; with the obligatory wooden spatulas of course!), leaving me to drink in the mid-movie atmosphere.
Big Sisters Story.........
All was going according to plan until reaching fourth in the queue, when all hell broke loose in the front rows. It was too far away to get a good idea of what was happening, but one thing was for sure, a child down there was letting everyone know in the cinema - and the pub next door, and everyone passing by on the pavement opposite the cinema...you get the idea - they were NOT happy. All Clare could hear was a bout of unbridled, uncontrolled (same thing, I know, Mr Smarty-thesaurus-man), terrified screaming. 'Why can't some people control their children?!!' was all she could think. 'They are brought here when they are clearly not able to sit still without bawling their heads off! Thank heavens Adrian isn't like that; he is having a great time and there's no way you will see him crying like...........that.............hang on............that IS him crying like that!! What the hell happened???!!'
My Story.......
I mean, I ask you; how was I to know the hazards lying in wait for a boy during the simple act of sitting in a cinema? I was only six!! Imagine the confusion in a little boys mind when his seat becomes a monster, flipping up, and in a split second taking his legs from a comfortable nine o'clock, to a squished half past eleven. Noone told me the seats could do that, and this was certainly not the ideal way to find out. So while struggling to free myself, all I could come out with - loudly - was......
'It's eating meeeeeeeeeeeeee..........HEEEEEEEEEELP..............IT'S EEEEEEATIIIIIIIING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.............'
And oooooh yes; I remember it all vividly, including the brain-freezing fear at the prospect of slipping through the gap between seat and back-rest into some, horrific cinema stomach. I don't think I have ever screamed so loud before or since!
Mercifully a merciful young man a few seats along the row released me from my predicament and looked after me until a flustered sister came running down the aisle to find out what the hell was going on. I did manage to calm down eventually, but spent the second half of the movie in an even greater state of end-chair-perchedness; this time the reason being much more one of self-preservation than excitement.
After that event, it took a quite a while before risking full-on cinema chair sittage again. The St. Ambrose Primary School organised trip to see Oliver! was next up, and I made sure my feet stayed firmly anchored to the ground!
Between you and me, I do wonder whether this might be the core reason for being overweight. Nothing to do with stress, or self-esteem, or lifestyle; it is purely a case of PTCD (Post Traumatic Cinema Disorder), ensuring that I would never again be light enough for further cinema chair flippage! By George I think I've got it!!
Now, back in them there days films had a mid-movie interval. Remember that? Whatever happened to films having a half-time eh? Just enough of a pause to grab a vanilla tub, visit the little boys room (not necessarily in that order), and have a chat with your big sister about what's going to happen in part two. Well......that's what is supposed to happen.....
Big sis Clare patted me on the knee and popped off to the back of the auditorium to pick up said tubs (Lyons Maid....mmmmm; with the obligatory wooden spatulas of course!), leaving me to drink in the mid-movie atmosphere.
Big Sisters Story.........
All was going according to plan until reaching fourth in the queue, when all hell broke loose in the front rows. It was too far away to get a good idea of what was happening, but one thing was for sure, a child down there was letting everyone know in the cinema - and the pub next door, and everyone passing by on the pavement opposite the cinema...you get the idea - they were NOT happy. All Clare could hear was a bout of unbridled, uncontrolled (same thing, I know, Mr Smarty-thesaurus-man), terrified screaming. 'Why can't some people control their children?!!' was all she could think. 'They are brought here when they are clearly not able to sit still without bawling their heads off! Thank heavens Adrian isn't like that; he is having a great time and there's no way you will see him crying like...........that.............hang on............that IS him crying like that!! What the hell happened???!!'
My Story.......
I mean, I ask you; how was I to know the hazards lying in wait for a boy during the simple act of sitting in a cinema? I was only six!! Imagine the confusion in a little boys mind when his seat becomes a monster, flipping up, and in a split second taking his legs from a comfortable nine o'clock, to a squished half past eleven. Noone told me the seats could do that, and this was certainly not the ideal way to find out. So while struggling to free myself, all I could come out with - loudly - was......
'It's eating meeeeeeeeeeeeee..........HEEEEEEEEEELP..............IT'S EEEEEEATIIIIIIIING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.............'
And oooooh yes; I remember it all vividly, including the brain-freezing fear at the prospect of slipping through the gap between seat and back-rest into some, horrific cinema stomach. I don't think I have ever screamed so loud before or since!
Mercifully a merciful young man a few seats along the row released me from my predicament and looked after me until a flustered sister came running down the aisle to find out what the hell was going on. I did manage to calm down eventually, but spent the second half of the movie in an even greater state of end-chair-perchedness; this time the reason being much more one of self-preservation than excitement.
After that event, it took a quite a while before risking full-on cinema chair sittage again. The St. Ambrose Primary School organised trip to see Oliver! was next up, and I made sure my feet stayed firmly anchored to the ground!
Between you and me, I do wonder whether this might be the core reason for being overweight. Nothing to do with stress, or self-esteem, or lifestyle; it is purely a case of PTCD (Post Traumatic Cinema Disorder), ensuring that I would never again be light enough for further cinema chair flippage! By George I think I've got it!!
Friday 22 June 2012
Olympic Challenge!!!
What am I doing???! As if the 10k, half and whole marathon thing isn't bad enough (oh yes, and the badminton) I go and get meself caught up in another stuffing challenge!
Let it be a cautionary tale to all gym-goers....when you are in said gym, and you pass any posters on the wall which have an area where you can 'sign-up here!'; either ignore it, or make sure no instructors are around when you look at it. Everybody knows that to an employee of a leisure centre gym; reading, looking interested in or even being within three metres of said poster.....well....that is tantamount (love that word) to screaming at the top of your voice
'I ABSOLUTELY, CATEGORICALLY AND EMPHATICALLY WANT TO SIGN UP FOR.. .....WHATEVER IT IS.....'
even if the poor unsuspecting individual doesn't know it yet.
A rather beefy looking instructor got his hooks into me and said he wouldn't let me leave until my name was up on the chart. This was at about 2pm so I decided to wait him out; at 3am I finally wilted; 'Oh, what the hell; stick me up there' was my response; immediately followed by having a proper look to find out what it was I was being stuck up there for!
So, I am now as we speak attempting the Haslingden Leisure Centre '2012 Olympic Silver Challenge' (that's one you haven't got Redgrave, have you now? eh? eh?....You know, if I succeed; in some strange universe (mine) that makes me a better athlete than you..........). From June 1st to August 12th the mission, should I choose to accept it (oh, hang on, I already have haven't I?.....crap....) is - through any or all of rower, cross-trainer, bike and treadmill - to travel a distance of 201.2km (2012, get it??!). It averages out at pretty much 20km per week, which is challenging (hence the name) but a good incentive to keep up the training towards the great north. If a decent fist is going of a half marathon come mid-September this is the sort of of gym target I need to be hitting. Ticking off progress on 'the chart' adds a new twist to the training experience too, not to mention the actual act of ticking being quite a cathartic (hey, pulling out all the good words now ain't I?....but I've just used the word ain't ain't I?....now I've used it twice!.....it was all going so well......) experience!
It's about three weeks into the challenge so far (quarter way through), and I'm at just over 40km (fifth of the way to target); not a problem, as the running distances are going to be increasing on a weekly basis. Should hopefully hit the 201.2 with a week or so to spare. Hope we get a medal, I'm getting to kind of enjoy wearing them!!!
Let it be a cautionary tale to all gym-goers....when you are in said gym, and you pass any posters on the wall which have an area where you can 'sign-up here!'; either ignore it, or make sure no instructors are around when you look at it. Everybody knows that to an employee of a leisure centre gym; reading, looking interested in or even being within three metres of said poster.....well....that is tantamount (love that word) to screaming at the top of your voice
'I ABSOLUTELY, CATEGORICALLY AND EMPHATICALLY WANT TO SIGN UP FOR.. .....WHATEVER IT IS.....'
even if the poor unsuspecting individual doesn't know it yet.
A rather beefy looking instructor got his hooks into me and said he wouldn't let me leave until my name was up on the chart. This was at about 2pm so I decided to wait him out; at 3am I finally wilted; 'Oh, what the hell; stick me up there' was my response; immediately followed by having a proper look to find out what it was I was being stuck up there for!
So, I am now as we speak attempting the Haslingden Leisure Centre '2012 Olympic Silver Challenge' (that's one you haven't got Redgrave, have you now? eh? eh?....You know, if I succeed; in some strange universe (mine) that makes me a better athlete than you..........). From June 1st to August 12th the mission, should I choose to accept it (oh, hang on, I already have haven't I?.....crap....) is - through any or all of rower, cross-trainer, bike and treadmill - to travel a distance of 201.2km (2012, get it??!). It averages out at pretty much 20km per week, which is challenging (hence the name) but a good incentive to keep up the training towards the great north. If a decent fist is going of a half marathon come mid-September this is the sort of of gym target I need to be hitting. Ticking off progress on 'the chart' adds a new twist to the training experience too, not to mention the actual act of ticking being quite a cathartic (hey, pulling out all the good words now ain't I?....but I've just used the word ain't ain't I?....now I've used it twice!.....it was all going so well......) experience!
It's about three weeks into the challenge so far (quarter way through), and I'm at just over 40km (fifth of the way to target); not a problem, as the running distances are going to be increasing on a weekly basis. Should hopefully hit the 201.2 with a week or so to spare. Hope we get a medal, I'm getting to kind of enjoy wearing them!!!
Wednesday 20 June 2012
Many Happy Returns!!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy birrrthdaaaay deeeeeeear........BLOOOOOOOG (as in 'blog' not 'bloog')!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy birrrthdaaaay deeeeeeear........BLOOOOOOOG (as in 'blog' not 'bloog')!
Happy Birthday to you!
Weigh in (51)
Distance trained so far........(126.8 miles)
Ooooh that was a close one. I am semi-delighted (with much clearing of throat and looking at my shoes like I've just ruined my big brother's prized Supertramp LP in trying to play it, by scraping the needle up, down and around the thing....creating whoooole new grooves in it!) to inform you that I have lost one pound; weighing in now at an official 16 stone 5 pounds.
Baaaaaa......baaaaaaa........baaaaaaaa........baaaaaaaa......ooh ain't this wool sweaty?!
Yes, in case you hadn't guessed I am feeling a little sheepish, as the loss is actually the grand total of 0.4 pounds. Big wee wow; three hips and one hurray. As luck would have it this has taken me from 5.8 pounds rounded up, to 5.4 pounds rounded down. I am such a fraud, but them's the rules and they have worked against me in the past, so there!
It proves that although the exercise levels are nice and healthy (three gym trips, lots of FFG action plus a badminton match on Monday; did I tell you I had joined a Summer league?....no?.....oops!.... ....and here's me, saying I will tell you everything. Forgive me?! On top of all the running training I think I may need my head examining for taking this on aswell) the diet has gone to pot a bit. How can that amount of exercise result in such a small loss in weight?
It's not one big problem, just a lot of ickle ones: a takeaway with a side of spring rolls, a naughty steak and gravy sandwich at lunchtime, a few too many mini lagers, a bit of before-bedtime grazing when I'm not even hungry, overdoing it a bit with the bread. Nothing to any extremes, but combined they are enough to make what could have been a great week into an ok week. I just need to focus that little bit more on the principles that have got me this far - meal planning, consciousness of what I am eating, control, discipline - and trust that they will continue to do the trick; no reason that they shouldn't.
A powerful incentive this week to make next Tuesdays weigh in a good 'un, is - if you're paying attention - that it's number 52! The official blog birthday occurs later today at 9pm (aaaah yes, I remember a year ago; three hours in labour and it was touch and go for a while, but at the end of it all I had a happy, healthy blog gurgling quietly to itself) and the following Tuesday is the one year anniversary of weigh in number one. I tell you, you can stick your diamond jubblie nonsense where the sun don't shine; this is an occasion really worth getting my bunting out for!
Up to 9km in the gym now; on schedule for the Great North by September.......
Ooooh that was a close one. I am semi-delighted (with much clearing of throat and looking at my shoes like I've just ruined my big brother's prized Supertramp LP in trying to play it, by scraping the needle up, down and around the thing....creating whoooole new grooves in it!) to inform you that I have lost one pound; weighing in now at an official 16 stone 5 pounds.
Baaaaaa......baaaaaaa........baaaaaaaa........baaaaaaaa......ooh ain't this wool sweaty?!
Yes, in case you hadn't guessed I am feeling a little sheepish, as the loss is actually the grand total of 0.4 pounds. Big wee wow; three hips and one hurray. As luck would have it this has taken me from 5.8 pounds rounded up, to 5.4 pounds rounded down. I am such a fraud, but them's the rules and they have worked against me in the past, so there!
It proves that although the exercise levels are nice and healthy (three gym trips, lots of FFG action plus a badminton match on Monday; did I tell you I had joined a Summer league?....no?.....oops!.... ....and here's me, saying I will tell you everything. Forgive me?! On top of all the running training I think I may need my head examining for taking this on aswell) the diet has gone to pot a bit. How can that amount of exercise result in such a small loss in weight?
It's not one big problem, just a lot of ickle ones: a takeaway with a side of spring rolls, a naughty steak and gravy sandwich at lunchtime, a few too many mini lagers, a bit of before-bedtime grazing when I'm not even hungry, overdoing it a bit with the bread. Nothing to any extremes, but combined they are enough to make what could have been a great week into an ok week. I just need to focus that little bit more on the principles that have got me this far - meal planning, consciousness of what I am eating, control, discipline - and trust that they will continue to do the trick; no reason that they shouldn't.
A powerful incentive this week to make next Tuesdays weigh in a good 'un, is - if you're paying attention - that it's number 52! The official blog birthday occurs later today at 9pm (aaaah yes, I remember a year ago; three hours in labour and it was touch and go for a while, but at the end of it all I had a happy, healthy blog gurgling quietly to itself) and the following Tuesday is the one year anniversary of weigh in number one. I tell you, you can stick your diamond jubblie nonsense where the sun don't shine; this is an occasion really worth getting my bunting out for!
Up to 9km in the gym now; on schedule for the Great North by September.......
Monday 18 June 2012
The Movies........City Lights
It really is a tricky task to give a run down on the top 5 Ady films of all time (not films with me in them you understand!). Don't you just hate people who tell you so much about a film you've not seen, that it removes any need or desire to watch it; thus depriving you of the joy which their cliff notes cannot possibly substitute? I honestly don't know why they do it; I would guess it's through some giddy excitement of wanting to share the experience with someone, even if that someone hasn't had the experience! So with this in mind, I will be treading carefully, hopefully giving you enough to tease you into renting/buying/stealing (making no assumptions), without overstepping the line into ruining.
That said; teasing you into renting/buying/stealing (making no assumptions) the first on my list will be quite a task; as my experience of mainstream, modern film-goers is that they will be very quickly turned off by the following terms.....
However, for those open-minded, happy few who are prepared to give sprouts a go........ City Lights is one of those incredibly rare movies which makes me cry laughing, as well as cry crying. Despite the 'talkies' (talking pictures) appearing three years previous; Chaplin still chose to make it as a silent film (see that?....that's research that is!), and for me it is so much the better for it. Watching it conjours emotions in me which are so powerful that even its recollection brings a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. I'm not embarrassed to admit, it touches my soul.
Its basic plot revolves around Chaplins legendary tramp, falling in love with a blind flower-seller. By twist of fate the aforementioned girl mistakes Charlie for a millionaire - not being able to see the tramps trampy clothes - and Charlie spends the entire movie doing all he can to scrape together enough money so as to perpetuate this illusion; clearly feeling that if she really knew what he was, she would want nothing to do with him. He quite overlooked the fact that in his efforts to stop her from finding out what he was, she found out all she needed to know about who he was. I will go no further with the spoiler; except venturing to say that in my humble opinion - and in the humble of opinions of people much more qualified to say so - the last moments of the film make it the greatest movie ending (with some of the greatest acting) of all time. Quite beautiful.
So what is it about City Lights that has me so gushy? Many things really. It is about love. It is about a man who does good things for that love, without ever expecting it to be returned (the deed in itself being its own reward), it is about comic genius, with clean, innocent humour that has managed to cross the decades, and ultimately it gives a message to all of us to just be who we are. If we are brave enough to do that, there will hopefully be someone out there who will accept us, appreciate us and love us for just being us.
During research into the movie (yes, you heard it......research!!...hark at me, a real Woodward and Bernstein eh?) I stumbled upon the following review written by a Roger Ebert. Don't have the slightest inkspot of an inkling as to who he is, but he can write.....
Having just viewed "City Lights'' again, I am still under its spell. Chaplin's gift was truly magical. And silent films themselves create a reverie state; there is no dialogue, no obtrusive super-realism, to interrupt the flow. They stay with you. They are not just a work, but a place.
Most of Chaplin's films are available on video. Children who see them at a certain age don't notice they're "silent'' but notice only that every frame speaks clearly to them, without all those mysterious words that clutter other films. Then children grow up, and forget this wisdom, but the films wait patiently and are willing to teach us again.
Couldn't have said it better myself!!
That said; teasing you into renting/buying/stealing (making no assumptions) the first on my list will be quite a task; as my experience of mainstream, modern film-goers is that they will be very quickly turned off by the following terms.....
- black and white
- silent
- Charlie Chaplin
However, for those open-minded, happy few who are prepared to give sprouts a go........ City Lights is one of those incredibly rare movies which makes me cry laughing, as well as cry crying. Despite the 'talkies' (talking pictures) appearing three years previous; Chaplin still chose to make it as a silent film (see that?....that's research that is!), and for me it is so much the better for it. Watching it conjours emotions in me which are so powerful that even its recollection brings a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. I'm not embarrassed to admit, it touches my soul.
Its basic plot revolves around Chaplins legendary tramp, falling in love with a blind flower-seller. By twist of fate the aforementioned girl mistakes Charlie for a millionaire - not being able to see the tramps trampy clothes - and Charlie spends the entire movie doing all he can to scrape together enough money so as to perpetuate this illusion; clearly feeling that if she really knew what he was, she would want nothing to do with him. He quite overlooked the fact that in his efforts to stop her from finding out what he was, she found out all she needed to know about who he was. I will go no further with the spoiler; except venturing to say that in my humble opinion - and in the humble of opinions of people much more qualified to say so - the last moments of the film make it the greatest movie ending (with some of the greatest acting) of all time. Quite beautiful.
So what is it about City Lights that has me so gushy? Many things really. It is about love. It is about a man who does good things for that love, without ever expecting it to be returned (the deed in itself being its own reward), it is about comic genius, with clean, innocent humour that has managed to cross the decades, and ultimately it gives a message to all of us to just be who we are. If we are brave enough to do that, there will hopefully be someone out there who will accept us, appreciate us and love us for just being us.
During research into the movie (yes, you heard it......research!!...hark at me, a real Woodward and Bernstein eh?) I stumbled upon the following review written by a Roger Ebert. Don't have the slightest inkspot of an inkling as to who he is, but he can write.....
Having just viewed "City Lights'' again, I am still under its spell. Chaplin's gift was truly magical. And silent films themselves create a reverie state; there is no dialogue, no obtrusive super-realism, to interrupt the flow. They stay with you. They are not just a work, but a place.
Most of Chaplin's films are available on video. Children who see them at a certain age don't notice they're "silent'' but notice only that every frame speaks clearly to them, without all those mysterious words that clutter other films. Then children grow up, and forget this wisdom, but the films wait patiently and are willing to teach us again.
Couldn't have said it better myself!!
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Weigh in (50)
At the time of post publication, it is precisely one week, two and a half hours before this challenge becomes one year old. I can't believe how fast it has flown by; it seemed like only yesterday that the blog was in virtual nappies, gurgling (virtually) happily to itself in the corner of my screen. Now I get all misty eyed when I think of what it has become! All slideshows and videos!!
Seriously though, it is a weird feeling, but I must focus; reflections on the anniversary can wait as there is there is the small matter of a weigh in to address......
Bit of a nasty shock when first stepping on the scales of doom; it was showing 16 stone 9 pounds (2 pounds on) and I was something less than pleased; the language coming out of my mouth could safely (and politically correctilily) be called a 'verbal rainbow'. As is usually the case (for loss as well as gain) I tried again, and this time it was showing a 1 pound loss! (I assure you that even I am not fit enough to lose 3 pounds in about twenty seconds......millionaire overnight if you crack that secret....without chopping off an arm). So, nerves were jangling on the deciding weigh in......and I am happy to report that result number three (and four and five to make absolutely sure) confirmed the new weight as 16 stone 6 pounds. YAY!
This is down almost entirely to a return to normal in the exercise regime; 8km on Sunday followed by a further 6km before the weigh in making me work up a sweat and work off the flab. I've not eaten particularly badly, but had a slip at the weekend and plumped (pardon the pun) for a Chinese Saturday night (not doing my supermarket shop until Sunday morning = not enough 'stuff' for Saturday night dinner = takeaway......PLONKA!). Bread intake has been pretty high too. All very positive that even with all this I have still lost weight, and further positivity in knowing that if I have a good week (low bread, no Chinese) then next Tuesday's weigh in could be very interesting!
The romantic in me would love to break 16 stone for weigh in 52, but losing three pounds a week would be a bit drastic (plus, to me it would indicate that I am pushing it too hard and crossing the line into the 'unsustainable lifestyle' zone). Let's just go for the low 16's eh?
Seriously though, it is a weird feeling, but I must focus; reflections on the anniversary can wait as there is there is the small matter of a weigh in to address......
Bit of a nasty shock when first stepping on the scales of doom; it was showing 16 stone 9 pounds (2 pounds on) and I was something less than pleased; the language coming out of my mouth could safely (and politically correctilily) be called a 'verbal rainbow'. As is usually the case (for loss as well as gain) I tried again, and this time it was showing a 1 pound loss! (I assure you that even I am not fit enough to lose 3 pounds in about twenty seconds......millionaire overnight if you crack that secret....without chopping off an arm). So, nerves were jangling on the deciding weigh in......and I am happy to report that result number three (and four and five to make absolutely sure) confirmed the new weight as 16 stone 6 pounds. YAY!
This is down almost entirely to a return to normal in the exercise regime; 8km on Sunday followed by a further 6km before the weigh in making me work up a sweat and work off the flab. I've not eaten particularly badly, but had a slip at the weekend and plumped (pardon the pun) for a Chinese Saturday night (not doing my supermarket shop until Sunday morning = not enough 'stuff' for Saturday night dinner = takeaway......PLONKA!). Bread intake has been pretty high too. All very positive that even with all this I have still lost weight, and further positivity in knowing that if I have a good week (low bread, no Chinese) then next Tuesday's weigh in could be very interesting!
The romantic in me would love to break 16 stone for weigh in 52, but losing three pounds a week would be a bit drastic (plus, to me it would indicate that I am pushing it too hard and crossing the line into the 'unsustainable lifestyle' zone). Let's just go for the low 16's eh?
Monday 11 June 2012
Compression Shorts!!!
Don't worry, this isn't the rare form of tourettes when I randomly blurt out items of clothing......."COMPRESSION SHORTS!!!"............"KIPPER TIE!!!"..........."STRING VEST!!!!!"....It is in actual fact, the hopefully complete and absolute remedy to chub rub!
I won't revisit its definition (for those of you who need one, see previous posts, or just do a bit of googling), but suffice it to say that as the running distances started to increase, it was becoming a problem too severe for Vaseline to be effective. After the Great Manchester, it stung like the mother of all carpet burns. Without these wonderful garments I fear for what even a half marathon would have done to me. Compression shorts are figure hugging, and almost form a second skin as they cling tight to the thigh, bottom, and, well; basically everywhere! So when previously it was skin rubbing on skin, now it is lycra gliding effortlessly across lycra. Ran 8km in the gym on Sunday and I can confirm there was zero chub, and if possible even less rub.....sheer bliss!
Now, before you get carried away (or fall off your chair) at the image of me in my Linford Christieness (you get what I mean, and if you don't; bless your innnocence!), I confirm that these are not the only shorts worn; a regular, non-huggy pair (not a character out of Starsky and Hutch) go on over the top. I cannot believe that these are actually meant to be worn on their own; they SO seem like underwear to me, and leave nothing to the imagination (not that for a millisecond you would consider imagining!). So my lunchbox (or mini thermos flask in my case) remains secreted from the patrons and staff of Haslingden Sports Centre gymnasium (for which I am sure they are truly grateful!).
Even more good news is that - as you can tell - I am back running again. Considering it has been a stetertetuttering time of it at the gym lately, it felt good - if a little hot and sweaty - to get a long run behind me; and no sign of a DFS relapse......result!! Not too far behind schedule for the Great North (and by a bit of fiddling, by tomorrow night I will be miraculously back on schedule!! If you sense a bit of goalpost moving on the horizon, you might well be correct....). Only fourteen weeks to go....but who's counting.........
I won't revisit its definition (for those of you who need one, see previous posts, or just do a bit of googling), but suffice it to say that as the running distances started to increase, it was becoming a problem too severe for Vaseline to be effective. After the Great Manchester, it stung like the mother of all carpet burns. Without these wonderful garments I fear for what even a half marathon would have done to me. Compression shorts are figure hugging, and almost form a second skin as they cling tight to the thigh, bottom, and, well; basically everywhere! So when previously it was skin rubbing on skin, now it is lycra gliding effortlessly across lycra. Ran 8km in the gym on Sunday and I can confirm there was zero chub, and if possible even less rub.....sheer bliss!
Now, before you get carried away (or fall off your chair) at the image of me in my Linford Christieness (you get what I mean, and if you don't; bless your innnocence!), I confirm that these are not the only shorts worn; a regular, non-huggy pair (not a character out of Starsky and Hutch) go on over the top. I cannot believe that these are actually meant to be worn on their own; they SO seem like underwear to me, and leave nothing to the imagination (not that for a millisecond you would consider imagining!). So my lunchbox (or mini thermos flask in my case) remains secreted from the patrons and staff of Haslingden Sports Centre gymnasium (for which I am sure they are truly grateful!).
Even more good news is that - as you can tell - I am back running again. Considering it has been a stetertetuttering time of it at the gym lately, it felt good - if a little hot and sweaty - to get a long run behind me; and no sign of a DFS relapse......result!! Not too far behind schedule for the Great North (and by a bit of fiddling, by tomorrow night I will be miraculously back on schedule!! If you sense a bit of goalpost moving on the horizon, you might well be correct....). Only fourteen weeks to go....but who's counting.........
Saturday 9 June 2012
Subject Of The Month........The movies.......
Reluctant though I may be to pull myself away from the previous monthly subject (Great Manchester; think I may have mentioned it before....) time does move on. There is only so much which can be said about a 10 kilometre run before you start repeating repeating yourself yourself, so onto pastures new.
Anyone who even vaguely knows me, should be fully aware that I enjoy films. As with my musical proclivities (no idea what that word means, but I think it fits here; if the definition turns out to be naughty female body parts......what can I say......I readily apologise) being brought up as the distant youngest of six children I gained an appreciation for the oldies (black and white, or announced at the beginning to be in 'GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR' (American spelling!) those were the days!), as well as modern pictures. I can think of no better way to enjoy a couple of hours than being sucked into a story of heroism, of love, of struggle, of tears, of laughter, of triumph. The best of these stories are ones which not only draw you into it - make you feel it - but ones which contain a message for us, irrespective of whether it takes place in the past, in the future, or even in a galaxy far far away.
Even since I started writing this post, the idea of it has evolved. Originally the intention was to take you through the list of top Ady films; giving you a taste of the storyline - without giving too much away - as well as putting across why it is that it has made the elite-I'm-going-to-watch-this-over-and-over-until-the grooves-wear-off-on-the-DVD-and-despite-owning-it-I-will-still-watch-it-when-it-appears-on-the-telly status, but I realise that in doing this I am missing out on some fun (and yes, generally embarrassing) stories centred around my world of film and cinema. I ask you, where is the sense in you missing out on those eh?!
So that's what's coming; the top five movies, intermingled with tales of why my first visit to the cinema was the most traumatic experience of my single-figured life (the romance with movies almost ending before it had begun), my first hot dog, and the local cinema the demise and ultimate demolition of which was my first encounter with 'progress'.
Anyone who even vaguely knows me, should be fully aware that I enjoy films. As with my musical proclivities (no idea what that word means, but I think it fits here; if the definition turns out to be naughty female body parts......what can I say......I readily apologise) being brought up as the distant youngest of six children I gained an appreciation for the oldies (black and white, or announced at the beginning to be in 'GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR' (American spelling!) those were the days!), as well as modern pictures. I can think of no better way to enjoy a couple of hours than being sucked into a story of heroism, of love, of struggle, of tears, of laughter, of triumph. The best of these stories are ones which not only draw you into it - make you feel it - but ones which contain a message for us, irrespective of whether it takes place in the past, in the future, or even in a galaxy far far away.
Even since I started writing this post, the idea of it has evolved. Originally the intention was to take you through the list of top Ady films; giving you a taste of the storyline - without giving too much away - as well as putting across why it is that it has made the elite-I'm-going-to-watch-this-over-and-over-until-the grooves-wear-off-on-the-DVD-and-despite-owning-it-I-will-still-watch-it-when-it-appears-on-the-telly status, but I realise that in doing this I am missing out on some fun (and yes, generally embarrassing) stories centred around my world of film and cinema. I ask you, where is the sense in you missing out on those eh?!
So that's what's coming; the top five movies, intermingled with tales of why my first visit to the cinema was the most traumatic experience of my single-figured life (the romance with movies almost ending before it had begun), my first hot dog, and the local cinema the demise and ultimate demolition of which was my first encounter with 'progress'.
Thursday 7 June 2012
Weigh in (49)
Not the worst result in the world; 2 pounds on this week, weighing me in at 16 stone 7 pounds. A blow it may be, but in all honesty not a surprising one. Again, no excuses; just reasons......
The main problem has been from having the usual routine severely knacked up by a week off work. You would have thought that having more time at my disposal would make it easier to exercise, not to mention easier to control what I am eating, but in actual fact the opposite has happened. In order to explain why, I think it's time to re-introduce you to my old friend, the bullet point.....
Further good news is that I am now back at work, the batteries are all fully charged, and as I write I can confirm that the DFS is retreating enough to make me consider a visit to the gym tomorrow (me)/this (you) evening (hope you understand that, not sure sure if I do). It won't be an easy one as it's been a while, but it will be good to get back into the swing of things and start working my way up to 13 miles, and down to 15 stone something!
The main problem has been from having the usual routine severely knacked up by a week off work. You would have thought that having more time at my disposal would make it easier to exercise, not to mention easier to control what I am eating, but in actual fact the opposite has happened. In order to explain why, I think it's time to re-introduce you to my old friend, the bullet point.....
- The three-quarter hour journey home from work has, over the last year, become invaluable in order to plan what's for dinner, avoiding unpreparedness which leads to those nasty takeaways. The week off has taken that away from me, hence I succumbed to my first chippy for quite some time (just fish and regular chips, not great but nowhere near what I used to have). May I say it was bloody lovely!
- Meal times have gone all over the place; particularly breakfast. Without having to get up and out for work I've been having my porridge at a time which could easily be called early lunch; then the whole lunch/dinner timing is up the waaazoo. Not good!
- The dreaded booze has come back onto the scene. For someone who rarely touches the stuff these days, in high holiday spirit I did knock back a considerable number of those little lager bottles (makes you feel more virtuous when they are half as big as regular bottles; until you realise you are drinking twice as many of the blighters!).
- A trip out for a movie double-header (Men in Black 3/Prometheus) with a naughty lunch of BBQ chicken burger and fat chips in the interval (Papa G's restaurant....MMMMMMM!)
- The 'works' have already groaned to a halt, but to chuck in one more spanner for good measure, I have been suffering from a case of D.F.S. Nope, not an allergy to cheap furniture (although I have that too); it is actually a joint/muscular pain with no known cause occurring in the lower extremities. Any medical experts out there will know it by it's full name.....Dodgy Foot Syndrome. I joke about it, but it is really painful, and really annoying; making it difficult to walk, and impossible to run. Not a clue what has caused it (just wake up in the morning and there it be!), but it has restricted exercising this last week to one 5km run on Thursday. Particularly annoying as it is also the cause of some giant back steps in the run programme to take me up to 13 miles this September. GRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Further good news is that I am now back at work, the batteries are all fully charged, and as I write I can confirm that the DFS is retreating enough to make me consider a visit to the gym tomorrow (me)/this (you) evening (hope you understand that, not sure sure if I do). It won't be an easy one as it's been a while, but it will be good to get back into the swing of things and start working my way up to 13 miles, and down to 15 stone something!
Tuesday 5 June 2012
Cracked it!!!!
Distance trained so far...............(113.1 miles)
Confession time here, I have reached a concrete ceiling when it comes to technology. Once those gadgets were introduced which could be used as a phone, a computer, a camera, as an mp3 player and a toaster all in one, that was that. The tricky bit is that this barrier to technological evolution has now come up against the modern world of blogdom. CLASHHHHHH!
When it comes to tweaking a basic blog template, even I can manage it; just. The major effort so far has been to write, and that is a much more old-fashioned practice! But then of course I have to start wanting to add things like slideshows and video footage don't I? and that has been - to say the least - something of a challenge.
Up until about a month ago I thought that html was one of those annoying abbreviations used in lonely hearts columns to limit the number of words in an advertisement (wltm, gsoh, ns). Wasn't totally convinced what it stood for but was fairly sure that it ended with 'to make love'; dependant on the context I would have gone with 'How' or possibly 'Hankering'. It came as something of a shock to discover that not only was it a computer language to create websites, it was the very language that was used to create this very blog (live and learn)!
My early attempts in writing html resulted in limited success....
'could you please put a slideshow on the side of my blog site, many thanks Mr. Computer'
even trying to get a bit more technical didn't work....
'video no worky = ady thoroughly pissed off = bad'
Fortunately the rise of the blog phenomenon (blogomenon?), has also meant a rise in the number of help sites available when more sophisticated tweaks are desired. Thus followed four weeks plus, of the following......
1. Googling to find a solution to the tweak
2. Following the solution's instructions, usually involving copying and pasting a piece of html
3. Checking the effect it has had on the blog
4. Nothing happens/Blog doesn't work
5. Cry
6. Resist temptation to investigate the aerodynamic ability of my laptop
7. Undo the changes made and return to number one above.......
Having said all this, I am now happy to report that at the moment, everything that I want to be in, is in! On the right we have the original slideshows - which for some reason suddenly decided not to work - a third slideshow of other photos which do tie in with some earlier posts (badminton, family, run); and at the bottom is video footage taken from the finish line of the Great Manchester 10k. Treat the latter as a live-action game of 'Where's (the) Wally'!!
By the way, if any of you think I am now an HTML expert; think again. I may have done it, but have not got a baldy clue of HOW I have done it!!
Confession time here, I have reached a concrete ceiling when it comes to technology. Once those gadgets were introduced which could be used as a phone, a computer, a camera, as an mp3 player and a toaster all in one, that was that. The tricky bit is that this barrier to technological evolution has now come up against the modern world of blogdom. CLASHHHHHH!
When it comes to tweaking a basic blog template, even I can manage it; just. The major effort so far has been to write, and that is a much more old-fashioned practice! But then of course I have to start wanting to add things like slideshows and video footage don't I? and that has been - to say the least - something of a challenge.
Up until about a month ago I thought that html was one of those annoying abbreviations used in lonely hearts columns to limit the number of words in an advertisement (wltm, gsoh, ns). Wasn't totally convinced what it stood for but was fairly sure that it ended with 'to make love'; dependant on the context I would have gone with 'How' or possibly 'Hankering'. It came as something of a shock to discover that not only was it a computer language to create websites, it was the very language that was used to create this very blog (live and learn)!
My early attempts in writing html resulted in limited success....
'could you please put a slideshow on the side of my blog site, many thanks Mr. Computer'
even trying to get a bit more technical didn't work....
'video no worky = ady thoroughly pissed off = bad'
Fortunately the rise of the blog phenomenon (blogomenon?), has also meant a rise in the number of help sites available when more sophisticated tweaks are desired. Thus followed four weeks plus, of the following......
1. Googling to find a solution to the tweak
2. Following the solution's instructions, usually involving copying and pasting a piece of html
3. Checking the effect it has had on the blog
4. Nothing happens/Blog doesn't work
5. Cry
6. Resist temptation to investigate the aerodynamic ability of my laptop
7. Undo the changes made and return to number one above.......
Having said all this, I am now happy to report that at the moment, everything that I want to be in, is in! On the right we have the original slideshows - which for some reason suddenly decided not to work - a third slideshow of other photos which do tie in with some earlier posts (badminton, family, run); and at the bottom is video footage taken from the finish line of the Great Manchester 10k. Treat the latter as a live-action game of 'Where's (the) Wally'!!
By the way, if any of you think I am now an HTML expert; think again. I may have done it, but have not got a baldy clue of HOW I have done it!!
Sunday 3 June 2012
The Countdown..........the run!!! (part two)
You have been chomping at the bit for the second installment haven't you?!! Be honest now, it's that missing piece you have been waiting for to complete the jigsaw of your life isn't it?!! Well. worry no more, as here it is! Where were we? Aaaah yes, The run had just begun.....
The first hundred metres would be a clear indicator of how the run would go. With muscles getting a bit stiff during all the hanging-around time, it was difficult to work out what niggles would be shaken off on crossing the start line, or if there might be any that might persist and cause problems. Two great things happened at this point (only 9.9km to go; yay!); first of all, the muscles felt good - completely devoid of niggles! - and secondly I heard a call from the side of the road and there was my bruv seeing me off. We exchanged what I would describe as a manly handshake (which thanks to some googling I am reliably informed is called a 'jiveshake'! (never let it be said that I don't do any research for the sake of blogkind)), and with some rock and roll blaring through my headphones, I was ready to rock and roll!
The mantra for the start was 'dontstarttoofastdontstartoofastdontstarttoofast......' as a result it seemed like everyone in the entire race careered past me, leaving me what felt to be last of the 40,000. That little voice tempting me to pick up the pace was becoming more insistent, but I resisted; knowing that if I didn't go off too quickly, it would be highly likely that these same people would be passing me in the opposite direction later in the race. As it turned out, the prophecy was fulfilled for many of them before the first kilometre was out! The sprinters had quickly become walkers, paying the price far too early in the race. I know running in one of these races is an entirely personal achievement, but I would be lying if I said there wasn't some satisfaction in overtaking people. I felt like a proper Mo Farah!
So were there any points at which I struggled during the run? Any stage where I thought I wouldn't make it? Well, at the risk of sounding really boring, no there wasn't (sorry to disappoint the dramatists in the audience). The whole thing was brilliant. Inspirational music on the ipod, the scenery of Manchester whizzing (not too fast!) by, and knocking up the kilometre count made it so much more of a pleasure than a pain. But above all this, was the crowd; the wonderful, fantastic crowd. Imagine a group of people walking around with you all day at work, cheering you on.....'blimey Adrian, that was a fantastic e-mail you just sent; quite amazing'........'I can't believe how well you boiled that kettle Ade'..........'come on mate, it's 4:30, you're almost there; you can do this!!'......well, it's kinda like that. For the entire 10k, people were lining the route, cheering everybody on (particular mention to the British Heart Foundation cheerpoint, where supporters are on the look-out for BHF tee-shirts and vests to give them an extra loud shout-out); energy and goodwill given so freely is such a unique experience, and a wholly positive feeling which alone is worth all the training. But the best was yet to come.
As the eight kilometre mark came and went, I realised - incredulously - that there was plenty left 'in the tank'. Benefitting from not going off at the start like an antelope-hunting cheetah, I upped the pace. Yes, the old fat man, with 2km still to go actually felt fresh enough to go faster. I would find it impossible to believe if I hadn't actually been there!
Half a kilometre to go, and turning the last corner....and the finish was in sight! SOOOO many people, making SOOOOOO much noise!! I'm not actually certain whether my feet touched the ground down the home straight, instead I think I just rode the wave of positivity and goodwill - and volume! - all the way to the line. There was fist-pumping, there was 'COME-OOOON;-ing, there was my bruv yelling and yes, there was even a little punching of the air on crossing the finish line. Feeling ecstatic, feeling fantastic, feeling incredible.
Post-race was all a bit of a blur really, however I do distinctly remember spending most of it with an ear-to-ear grin on my face. Clare was there to meet me and there was much hugging of my sweaty body (ewwwwwwww, ew-ew-ewwwww). It was a kind of surreal feeling going back to reality - sitting down for a Costa coffee and having a bit of a chat with bruv and sis - as the previous few hours had been anything but. Part of me wanted to keep that feeling of adrenalin-fuelled joy, but it did fade after a short while. However I am happy to report it replaced by a more permanent, strong and sober feeling of achievement (still got it, two weeks later!); made all the more real by putting on the medal. It was a surprise to me how much of a buzz I got out of wearing a disc of metal!
Time for home, and by the time 5 o'clock ticked round, I was sat, at home, on my sofa with the TV on; amazed with what I had done with my day. I think extraordinary would not be too strong a word to describe it.
So, life goes on, blog goes on, I go on.....to Newcastle in September. Back in the gym, back in training, back to the weight loss, back to the focus. Don't worry though, I won't be moving on so much as to dismiss these memories to the rubbish bin (maybe the recycle bin!); they give me the strength and confidence to push on. Having said all that.......I guess I should take my medal off now, it's been a fortnight after all.......but can I sleep with it one more night please Mummy??.......
The first hundred metres would be a clear indicator of how the run would go. With muscles getting a bit stiff during all the hanging-around time, it was difficult to work out what niggles would be shaken off on crossing the start line, or if there might be any that might persist and cause problems. Two great things happened at this point (only 9.9km to go; yay!); first of all, the muscles felt good - completely devoid of niggles! - and secondly I heard a call from the side of the road and there was my bruv seeing me off. We exchanged what I would describe as a manly handshake (which thanks to some googling I am reliably informed is called a 'jiveshake'! (never let it be said that I don't do any research for the sake of blogkind)), and with some rock and roll blaring through my headphones, I was ready to rock and roll!
The mantra for the start was 'dontstarttoofastdontstartoofastdontstarttoofast......' as a result it seemed like everyone in the entire race careered past me, leaving me what felt to be last of the 40,000. That little voice tempting me to pick up the pace was becoming more insistent, but I resisted; knowing that if I didn't go off too quickly, it would be highly likely that these same people would be passing me in the opposite direction later in the race. As it turned out, the prophecy was fulfilled for many of them before the first kilometre was out! The sprinters had quickly become walkers, paying the price far too early in the race. I know running in one of these races is an entirely personal achievement, but I would be lying if I said there wasn't some satisfaction in overtaking people. I felt like a proper Mo Farah!
So were there any points at which I struggled during the run? Any stage where I thought I wouldn't make it? Well, at the risk of sounding really boring, no there wasn't (sorry to disappoint the dramatists in the audience). The whole thing was brilliant. Inspirational music on the ipod, the scenery of Manchester whizzing (not too fast!) by, and knocking up the kilometre count made it so much more of a pleasure than a pain. But above all this, was the crowd; the wonderful, fantastic crowd. Imagine a group of people walking around with you all day at work, cheering you on.....'blimey Adrian, that was a fantastic e-mail you just sent; quite amazing'........'I can't believe how well you boiled that kettle Ade'..........'come on mate, it's 4:30, you're almost there; you can do this!!'......well, it's kinda like that. For the entire 10k, people were lining the route, cheering everybody on (particular mention to the British Heart Foundation cheerpoint, where supporters are on the look-out for BHF tee-shirts and vests to give them an extra loud shout-out); energy and goodwill given so freely is such a unique experience, and a wholly positive feeling which alone is worth all the training. But the best was yet to come.
As the eight kilometre mark came and went, I realised - incredulously - that there was plenty left 'in the tank'. Benefitting from not going off at the start like an antelope-hunting cheetah, I upped the pace. Yes, the old fat man, with 2km still to go actually felt fresh enough to go faster. I would find it impossible to believe if I hadn't actually been there!
Half a kilometre to go, and turning the last corner....and the finish was in sight! SOOOO many people, making SOOOOOO much noise!! I'm not actually certain whether my feet touched the ground down the home straight, instead I think I just rode the wave of positivity and goodwill - and volume! - all the way to the line. There was fist-pumping, there was 'COME-OOOON;-ing, there was my bruv yelling and yes, there was even a little punching of the air on crossing the finish line. Feeling ecstatic, feeling fantastic, feeling incredible.
Post-race was all a bit of a blur really, however I do distinctly remember spending most of it with an ear-to-ear grin on my face. Clare was there to meet me and there was much hugging of my sweaty body (ewwwwwwww, ew-ew-ewwwww). It was a kind of surreal feeling going back to reality - sitting down for a Costa coffee and having a bit of a chat with bruv and sis - as the previous few hours had been anything but. Part of me wanted to keep that feeling of adrenalin-fuelled joy, but it did fade after a short while. However I am happy to report it replaced by a more permanent, strong and sober feeling of achievement (still got it, two weeks later!); made all the more real by putting on the medal. It was a surprise to me how much of a buzz I got out of wearing a disc of metal!
Time for home, and by the time 5 o'clock ticked round, I was sat, at home, on my sofa with the TV on; amazed with what I had done with my day. I think extraordinary would not be too strong a word to describe it.
So, life goes on, blog goes on, I go on.....to Newcastle in September. Back in the gym, back in training, back to the weight loss, back to the focus. Don't worry though, I won't be moving on so much as to dismiss these memories to the rubbish bin (maybe the recycle bin!); they give me the strength and confidence to push on. Having said all that.......I guess I should take my medal off now, it's been a fortnight after all.......but can I sleep with it one more night please Mummy??.......