Damion, Pete and myself decided to capture the various elements of our fitness regimes. Or rather I put together a spreadsheet. The exact origin doesn't matter. The dimensions on the spreadsheet are:
Fitness Bootcamp (hours)
Press Ups
One armed clean and jerks (with the 16kg kettlebell)
Floors of stairs
Floors of stairs carrying the kettlebell
Run (km)
Hike (km)
Bike (km)
Swim (km)
In the middle of that list is the innocuous looking "Floors of stairs carrying the kettlebell". Basically it simulates complete system wide panic in the cardiovascular and pulmonary systems as well as causing my legs to stop working. I imagine that it's going to be what it feels like trying to walk up steep ice in crampons at 6000m. Only spread out over a much shorter time than the mountain. If I survive the next couple of times I think I've found the perfect training aid.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Saturday, 19 June 2010
An open letter to the England football team
The morning after the night before. I'm still seething at what I watched last night. A team full of Englishmen with nothing to prove. Standing and pouting at each other and getting a lesson in desire from Algeria covered in all its excruciating frustration by ITV. Meaning that alongside what was a pitiful display I had to endure an endless series of adverts featuring the players I had so wanted to believe in. In the adverts they seemed proud to play for England, passionate, creative. That football was the single most important thing in their lives.
Last night 11 men walked back into that changing room and can any of them have truly said they left everything they had on the pitch? They told us that even below par they should beat Algeria. That they were hungry. Those 11 shirts contained the dreams of every boy who grew up in this country dreaming of playing in the World Cup. The dreams of people who saved and bartered for tickets and made ends meet so they could see their heroes play in the flesh and represent us all. This was our Disneyworld and it was like going to Disneyworld and watching Mickey Mouse drunkenly throwing up on Donald Duck. They told us that this was Algeria's World Cup Final. Sadly it seemed that they had played their World Cup Finals in the adverts they are so lucratively rewarded for. In the self indulgent pieces to camera they recorded showing how cool and human they are and how much this supposedly means to them. Then a limp display. More sulking and back to their 5 star hotels.
If playing for England isn't a privilege then don't do it. If you can't remember the dreams you had playing in the playground or the local field then stay at home. Enjoy your summers in your expensive homes. Do your photoshoots for Hello! magazine. Get drunk and have your antics reported in the papers. Cheat on your wives and girlfriends. Yesterday - Algeria can be rightfully proud of the men who walked out on that pitch to represent them. England, sadly, cannot say the same thing.
Maybe the pressure of a nation's expectations was too much for them. Maybe England will do what they have done so many World Cups before and discover that spark and find redemption. I would rather we went out trying to play. Contesting every ball. United by our nationality. Remembering what it's like to be a child playing for the simple pleasure of it. After all it's just a game and should be about bringing joy.
You told us that this was Algeria's World Cup final. Well next Wednesday your World Cup Final is against Slovenia. You still have a chance to make your nation believe again. To rediscover why you play football. To convince us that you aren't only in it for the money and sense of privilege it gives you. If you don't want to play then I, and millions of other Englishmen, would rather you just got on a plane home now and went back to recording your adverts and to your lives of excess. If you cannot step on that pitch and give it your best try (even if you lose trying) then you are no longer worth the hope I have invested in you. Maybe a future generation of footballers might come to represent something I can believe in again.
Last night 11 men walked back into that changing room and can any of them have truly said they left everything they had on the pitch? They told us that even below par they should beat Algeria. That they were hungry. Those 11 shirts contained the dreams of every boy who grew up in this country dreaming of playing in the World Cup. The dreams of people who saved and bartered for tickets and made ends meet so they could see their heroes play in the flesh and represent us all. This was our Disneyworld and it was like going to Disneyworld and watching Mickey Mouse drunkenly throwing up on Donald Duck. They told us that this was Algeria's World Cup Final. Sadly it seemed that they had played their World Cup Finals in the adverts they are so lucratively rewarded for. In the self indulgent pieces to camera they recorded showing how cool and human they are and how much this supposedly means to them. Then a limp display. More sulking and back to their 5 star hotels.
If playing for England isn't a privilege then don't do it. If you can't remember the dreams you had playing in the playground or the local field then stay at home. Enjoy your summers in your expensive homes. Do your photoshoots for Hello! magazine. Get drunk and have your antics reported in the papers. Cheat on your wives and girlfriends. Yesterday - Algeria can be rightfully proud of the men who walked out on that pitch to represent them. England, sadly, cannot say the same thing.
Maybe the pressure of a nation's expectations was too much for them. Maybe England will do what they have done so many World Cups before and discover that spark and find redemption. I would rather we went out trying to play. Contesting every ball. United by our nationality. Remembering what it's like to be a child playing for the simple pleasure of it. After all it's just a game and should be about bringing joy.
You told us that this was Algeria's World Cup final. Well next Wednesday your World Cup Final is against Slovenia. You still have a chance to make your nation believe again. To rediscover why you play football. To convince us that you aren't only in it for the money and sense of privilege it gives you. If you don't want to play then I, and millions of other Englishmen, would rather you just got on a plane home now and went back to recording your adverts and to your lives of excess. If you cannot step on that pitch and give it your best try (even if you lose trying) then you are no longer worth the hope I have invested in you. Maybe a future generation of footballers might come to represent something I can believe in again.
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Progress
6 ascents of St Catherines. The good news:
Distance travelled: 12.5km
Vertical Gain: 512m
Average moving speed: 5.9km/h
The bad news:
Weight carried: 0kg
Going to get some decent distance before I start adding a rucksack so no great rush for it yet.
Next up I need a spirit level so I can take a photo and show how steep the damn thing is.
Distance travelled: 12.5km
Vertical Gain: 512m
Average moving speed: 5.9km/h
The bad news:
Weight carried: 0kg
Going to get some decent distance before I start adding a rucksack so no great rush for it yet.
Next up I need a spirit level so I can take a photo and show how steep the damn thing is.
Friday, 4 June 2010
Sunset in London
Didn't bring my camera up to London this week but I did give the camera on the Nexus One a try. The results are surprisingly good. Unfortunately, zoomed shots in low lighting kinda suck but it definitely takes my iPhone to school.
Being by the water as the Sun goes down is a good place to be.... Sadly I couldn't get anywhere near Battersea Power Station from upriver so will have to try and approach from the other side.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Here comes the rain again...
When I lived in Tokyo it didn't rain for the first 2 months I was there. Then the rainy season struck. What I hadn't realised was how much I missed the rain. Possibly a side effect of my nationality. When the heavens finally opened. And, boy, did they ever open. I was straight outside to glory in all the sky water before going back indoors to drip everywhere to the muted tutting of my co-workers.
It was raining again last night and I went for a run by the Thames. Training in the rain is a truly pleasurable experience. You get to that state where your body is generating enough heat to offset what you lose from being soaked to the skin and you don't have to try too hard to not overheat. The odd thing is how quickly you forget how nice it is and look outside and use it as an excuse not to go out at the first sign of clouds.
One of the positive things about having a goal for training is that such trivial excuses don't get in the way of simple pleasures like this.
It was raining again last night and I went for a run by the Thames. Training in the rain is a truly pleasurable experience. You get to that state where your body is generating enough heat to offset what you lose from being soaked to the skin and you don't have to try too hard to not overheat. The odd thing is how quickly you forget how nice it is and look outside and use it as an excuse not to go out at the first sign of clouds.
One of the positive things about having a goal for training is that such trivial excuses don't get in the way of simple pleasures like this.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
St Catherine's Hill - Round 2
Instead of getting sun burned I got soaked to the skin. And for added fun the hill is made of very chalky soil which gets kinda slippery when there's some moisture. Added another two ascents to last week before the very real possibility of bricking my phone led me to head home.
So. Up to 5 x St Catherine's from the target of 20. It's progress. And progress is good. Plus I felt much much stronger than last week which hopefully is a good sign rather than the effects of being out in the rain.
I also have a kit list to start preparing. Which means shopping for cool gadgets. Though not for a little while as my washing machine decided it no longer wants to perform its primary function.
So. Up to 5 x St Catherine's from the target of 20. It's progress. And progress is good. Plus I felt much much stronger than last week which hopefully is a good sign rather than the effects of being out in the rain.
I also have a kit list to start preparing. Which means shopping for cool gadgets. Though not for a little while as my washing machine decided it no longer wants to perform its primary function.
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