Run with Eric:
HAPPY

How is it that the break that I took ended up being more stressful than when I was working around the clock? Maybe it was the work that was keeping me going the whole time. I’m more exhausted now than I was a week ago at this same time. I thought that taking a break would have helped me deal with some deeply unsettling personal matters, but somehow it only helped to solidify my ever growing break with humanity and just how little I believe in it as a whole.

My desire to scream at everyone over their entitlement and privilege reached an all time high this week as on an almost continual basis all but a very tiny handful of friends and acquaintances found new way to let me down and depress me even further.

Without going into massive specifics – and I HATE even bringing this up in a public forum – due to circumstances beyond my control I don’t have a place to live for the next two weeks. If you want to know the story, ask me in person and I will tell you. It’s a clustercuss of ups and downs, a maze of paperwork, a load of idiocy on the parts of people you would think would be able to help (city, province, charities), but there is a solution in sight. It’s been going on for the past several weeks and again briefly at the beginning of the year, and it’s simultaneously embarrassing to talk about and hurtful for me to write about, especially since this isn’t the first time this has happened to me. It’s actually the second time in several years that I’ve had this rotten luck.

Again, this isn’t about the ones who try to or have helped. This is about those who can’t step outside themselves to just do anything for anyone other than themselves. And for those of you joining my life really late, both of my parents have been dead for over a decade now and I don’t have family to fall back on at all. Not even extended family. That is, unless you want to give me five grand to track them down and go to the States and find them, but honestly if you want to give me that much money to fly down there you could just as easily keep me here.

Now, I know that not everyone I know is capable of helping out when I need it or sheepishly ask, and even those who can help will only be able to do it to certain degrees based on means, availability, and comfort. I will never begrudge those who have already been there to help out wherever they could and so grateful and humbled. Some of them are close friends that have been around since the beginning and others are only casual friends with hearts made of pure gold. Some people just simply can’t and I totally get it. I could get into how some people are unable to grasp various degrees of what constitutes help (i.e. how it’s not all about just straight up giving me a place to crash for a night or two or a few dollars for something to eat), but that’s a different story.

My problem and something that I’ve become uniquely attuned to is that everyone around me seems to be blowing their money now more than ever on some of the dumbest shit imaginable. They are unable to help because they have lived so far beyond their means that they can’t even fathom what helping another human being is. I asked, again, embarrassingly, for $20 last Tuesday from two separate people, the use of which I will get back to in a second.

One of them said they couldn’t do it (or help with a place to sleep for even a couple of hours due to having a small apartment, which is more understandable), and yet they just came back from a trip to Florida and torment me still with pictures of their happy, lavish trip every day. The other similarly declined yet had bragged on Twitter two days earlier on donating $200 to the Kickstarter for the Veronica Mars movie.

That $20 would have gone to the following: a TTC day pass (the fares for which are one of the most overpriced things on the planet for return on service, but that’s another gripe) to get around since the weather was unremittingly shitty about and food for three days. By food for three days that means one McChicken from McDonalds every day for three straight days while eating nothing else. Wasn’t going to be the most glamorous $20 ever spent.

So what ended up happening that day was there was an ice and sleet storm. I started the day with $3 in my pocket which I had to spend to meet a friend to borrow $5. Then, when I left my friend the weather was even worse and I had to go to work I had to spend another $3 of that 5 to get back on the subway. This left me with $2. That same afternoon I see the friend who went on vacation eating in a really nice restaurant on Yonge Street. I wanted to go in and flip the table over. And this, contrary to what you might thing, was actually a closer friend to me than most.

So you might say, “But Andy, you have a job. Several, in fact! Several good jobs, even. How do you not have anything?” Good question. First off, as I stated in my last post, this was never a good paying a job and now more than ever I almost have to quit entirely and take a fast food gig just to get money fast. Don’t laugh, I’ve applied. I’ve also applied for assistance on various levels, but being a single male with no dependents and actual employment, you don’t qualify for anything. On top of that, I already put all the money I had and borrowed more into getting a new place that I can move into on May 1st. I absolutely couldn’t get anything sooner without paying out the ass for a temporary room in a shady, suspect place. So I have negative eighty dollars in my bank account as is, and as we all know, that’s a pretty bad spot to be in.

Second, in the past month I have had two paycheques bounce on me and one outlet just hasn’t paid me. Another outlet that pays me on a regular basis doesn’t pay until the end of the month (with all of last months getting spent on getting me out of this mess ASAP), and yet another is three months past due on paying me. Another outlet doesn’t pay until an article runs and I have nothing running for them until June. Finally, I don’t get any of the advance money for the book I’m working on until I can prove a certain amount of its done.

I’ve just grown fed up and I have no idea where exactly to go from this point on, but I know it shouldn’t be this difficult to turn to those who allegedly support you on a friendly level to help me. I’ve reached the point where the few people who can help me are stretched to the point where they just can’t do anything anymore. So if you see me or know how to contact me or care, just know that it’s reached the point where I have to make it public knowledge that things are shitty, just know that this is going on even if I haven’t brought it up to you directly and until the end of the month, know that I won’t turn down any help that I can get. Pretty desperate at this point just to get back on track. Also, I can’t spend another night sleeping at the airport since they caught on last night that I wasn’t actually flying anywhere. Today is literally (meaning the dictionary definition of “in the strictest sense”) the last day I have to come up with some sort of plan for the next two weeks. I have tried for the past seven days to do something on my own and nothing at all worked or panned out. There are sadly no more options other than looking like a complete and total bum.

So if you can offer any of the following, here’s the kickstarter I am willing to propose:

For a donation of any amount of money for food or transportation, I would be willing to pay it back as soon as I possibly can. It won’t be immediately. Admittedly, I am already in a small bit of debt from this ordeal already. BUT what I would be willing to do – for any loaning of money $20 or more - is to write you an original story on any topic of your choosing OR I will write about or review any movie you want me to review. This can also be claimed by anyone willing to cut out the middle man and buy me a TTC weekly pass for either this week or next OR anyone willing to offer me work space during the day.

If you want to buy me lunch, I will send you a PDF copy of my collection of short stories and essays from 5 years ago titled SLEEPLESS. Since the book was finished and published ages ago, you would think this would be a lesser offer, but I really can’t think of anything else equal to a lunch in terms of pricing that I could offer. Also, since part of my “get back on my feet” plan is to re-release this for this summer via eReaders, I can’t really just throw it around like I did the past couple of years.

For a donation of having me over for dinner, I will do the dishes and clean your kitchen for you. And by clean your kitchen I mean the basics. Counters, floors, a brief once over of the fridge. I’m not cleaning the oven… unless you want to pay for that. An extra $20 and I’ll clean the oven, but I would prefer not to. Last time I tried to clean my own oven I broke out in an allergic rash from the cleaning foam even while wearing gloves.

For an offer of a place to sleep for any amount of time, the donator will get the perks listed above as well as more general housework done. In addition, if the donator provides ingredients (or just gives me cash and trusts my taste, which given some of my reviews, you might not want to go that route), I will make a home cooked meal for the provider. I can cook. It’s a side of me no one else really sees. It’s a pretty special offer.

Any other offers (including work and commissions) can be discussed. As you can see, I am trying very hard to have a sense of humour about this, but I really just need something, anything to go right. And when some of your closest friends find ways to let you down (again, not all of them, you guys), what other options are left?

If you have any questions, chances are you know where to reach me.

Howl - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club [2005]

Where the hell did this come from?

After two albums with good singles but on the whole worthy of the description 'not bad', a pretty decent but by no means special rock band suddenly delved deep into their hearts, found their inner blues, which I don't think anyone thought existed in them, and pulled out a bloody stunner of a record. As I said: where the hell did this come from?

The title says it all. Howl is raw to the core. It's a cry of justice, injustice and misery. It's, well, a howl.

I'm born and weary but life's just begun
And I've run from the reasons and roamed to the gun
They say I'm the killer and thy will be done
And the doors won't be open when I finally become
And I've seen the battle and I've seen the war
And the life out here is the life I've been sold

It could be said there's a lack of invested feeling in observant third-person ballads such as Restless Sinner - though I don't agree; it's a brilliant song with wonderful guitar work - but that never hurt Dylan, and if it's personal emotion you want, look no further than Fault Line. With copious amounts of harmonica, that most underrated of instruments, and a refrain of "Racing with the rising tide to my father's door", it's really quite moving.

But it's not all one-paced: Shuffle Your Feet, all handclaps and bottleneck guitar, and Ain't No Easy Way, one of the few indie singles of late to feature an instrumental mouth organ chorus, raise the tempo and are both absolute stompers in their own right. They provide a perfectly judged antidote to the bittersweet laments of the rest of the album's noose-fearing gospel.

It is, quite literally given their previous guitar anthem dreams, an incredible modern blues album.

And yet no one else seems to think so. From the universally acclaimed Since I Left You yesterday to the largely deplored Howl today, it's a bit of a fall. But I don't care.

This is gem of an album. What a shame that as soon as they could, BRMC went back to their old rocky road. But at least we are left with this - Howl.

No Spotify link because Spotify doesn't have this album. It's all on YouTube, though - give it a listen.

*blows the dust off this blog*

Sorry, I know it’s been a while. In fact, it’s been so long that it seems barely worth apologising. Suffice it to say I’m back with something particularly blogworthy. To wit:

Mario Balotelli is going to spend a week in an Italian monastery.

More specifically, that’s the Santacittarama Buddhist Monastery in Frasso Sabino, which, as far as I can work out from Google Maps, is in the middle of nowhere (a good place for a monastery, admittedly). It’s not far from Rome, and seems to be happy enough to take people in for some brief religious guidance.

To be honest, the idea of Mario Balotelli, the man who fires toy guns at passers-by, breaks into women's prisons and throws darts at youth team players, meditating with Buddhist monks is incredible. When I first heard, I assumed it would be this kind of monastery – that looks much more up Mario’s street.

But no, apparently, he’s actually going to spend a week of his summer holidays trying to calm down a touch. No doubt someone at Manchester City has had a word in his ear.

An artist's impression

Don’t worry, I’m not turning this blog into a gossip column – I just love that this is Mario Balotelli’s next step towards salvation, after beating on school bullies and giving a homeless man £1,000. Can you have a midlife crisis at 20?

Strangely enough, I didn’t think a 140-character tweet would do this story justice. Hell, there’s a film in this.

Once again: Mario Balotelli. In a monastery. Meditating.

Bloody hell.

In the blink of an eye it seems, the month of January has nearly passed and the resolutions set for 2011 are either works in progress or becoming a distant memory. Time flies when you're having fun, as the saying goes. And, despite the cold and seemingly never ending winter, I am having fun... workouts are coming together. I've started running again. I am getting stronger, fitter and even a little leaner. The last part has been pretty easy actually, after being a complete and utter glutton during the month of December, losing a few pounds has simply been a matter of all the pie being gone.
You might be wondering why I chose the title for the post and it's pretty simple actually. I've been struggling with the why. I enjoy my daily workouts, that's not the issue. And I've chosen a few events to focus on later in the year to provide some additional motivation and allow for some structure to my training. But the big why is lacking. Yes, daily exercise is healthy of the body and soul. But, come on, that's kind of boring. I need something more.

Over a decade ago, I signed up for an Ironman on a whim... and I trained my ass off, primarily driven by fear. Fear that I couldn't complete the distance and that I would fail. And that fear pushed me out of my comfort zone on a daily basis, doing things that, at the time, seemed impossible, even stupid. For example, ride 100 miles in the northern Virginia summer and then run 10 miles afterward. Now I know the game of triathlon to know that such a workout is not unusual at all for Ironman prep, but at the time (before the Internet), it seemed a little crazy... but fear is a powerful motivator and it got me out the door.

Of course, there was a happy ending, I finished in a respectable time, I lived happily ever after, even doing another Ironman and a bunch of other marathons, half ironmans (click on the 'racing' tag to the right to read some of the race reports). But the sense of accomplishment and pride at Ironman finish line #1 has yet to be equaled.

So what next? I don't know the answer right now, but I'm thinking a lot about it.

About 3 weeks ago, my family and I put our beloved Rhodesian Ridgeback, Kona, to sleep. We’d had him since he was a eight week old pup, just after our marriage. With our two kids, we were a five-some….always together, running, hiking, playing at the park or the beach or just hanging around the house.

But now, he was seven and riddled with bone cancer. The kind of cancer that reduces a happy, active dog to a dog that can’t get up to relieve himself in the space of just ten weeks. Ten grand worth of chemotherapy would have only bought us a couple months. No choice but to cut our losses for his sake as much as ours. So we said our painful goodbyes and let him go.

A week later, my kids and wife drag me kicking and screaming to the humane society. It’s too soon, I said. We’re (I’m) not ready, I said. We’re not, under any circumstances, bringing home a dog, I said. Maybe a cat, I said. (Never mind the fact that my daughter is allergic to cats and I’ve never been a cat person).

You know the rest of the story. We are in a room with three lab mix puppies. One of them jumps into our arms and quickly into our hearts. We bring her home and name her Lucy

Well hung, innit? I'm hanging like a parliament. Hang this. Etc. The jokes everywhere are from the news of a hung parliament, as the British public - well, 65% of it - went to the polls and voted for no one in particular.

Some of us were foolish enough to stay up all night to watch the results come in, and for a more in-depth, more drunken look I recommend trawling through my old tweets at www.twitter.com/weekspotblog. But for those of you with lives to lead (I did update so many times I broke Twitter and was told to stop posting), here's a summary of how no one bar the Greens can be happy with this result.

And fair play to the Greens. It's a fantastic outcome for the single-issue nutters.

Anyway, here goes: the Top Ten 'Oh Fucks' of the night:

1. Oh fuck. The Liberal Democrats had a shocker last night, and this is where it all started to go wrong. Clegg's collective had been making promises of a genuine challenge to Government and 110 seats. Instead, they lost five MPs, and currently stand on a paltry 54 (16 constituencies are still to be announced).

Again, it all started here. The LibDems' no1 target seat saw a 6.9% swing AWAY from the yellows and into the hands of a gleeful Tory party. No doubt for Doughty; no paradise lost for Milton.

Clegg considers his career options

2. Oh fuck. The Conservative Party actually had a pretty bad night of it as well, despite what this terrifyingly blue map of the UK might aver. Seriously, if they just counted votes in England, not Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as well, the Tories would walk it.

But they won't be at all happy with failing to reach a majority, and it was in constituencies such as this that they fell. It really looked like the Blues would take Tooting, but despite a healthy 3.6% swing against them Labour and Sadiq Khan MP held on. 'Yes we Khan' were the chants. Yes we Khan. +10% turnout too. Good work, Tooting.

Not Tooting his own horn here

3. Oh fuck. Labour had to endure a torrid night (this was a particularly painful one to lose - just 54 votes in it), and what will really hurt is losing some big names. Two former home secretaries, Charles Clarke and Jacqui Smith, were among the casualties and although Clarke is anti-Brown and anti-Balls, he's an old head they didn't want to see go.

How fucked? This fucked

4. Oh fuck. Labour weren't the only party to say goodbye to some prominent figures and again, this was the beginning of the end for the LibDems. Lembit Opik, he of Cheeky Girl fame, lost his seat in Montgomeryshire as the Tories made another gain - this time, with a massive 13.2% swing. Cheeky.

5. Oh fuck. Evan Harris also went - a massive blow for the LibDems. There were only 176 votes in it.

6. Oh fuck. The British National Party didn't win any seats, which is great news, but I wish I could be more optimistic about half a million voters putting an X by their name. I can't. It's disgusting.

Interestingly, the BNP actually lost 1.7% of the vote in the constituency where Nick Griffin plumped his fat bonk-eyed arse.

Understatement?

7. Oh fuck. Essex has a lot to answer for. Chavs, white stilettos and Jamie Oliver aside, the county has a nasty habit of being pretty right-wing in its voting habits. The constituency that best summed up its extent of fail last night was Basildon South & Thurrock East, where they successfully got rid of a Labour minister, voted in a Tory and gave more than 2,500 votes to the BNP. Well done.

8. Oh fuck. Every time I switched over ITV's coverage was absolutely God-awful, from Alistair Stewart constantly interrupting everybody like he's king of the fucking world to filming outside a pub where David Cameron was drinking. It's a pub - just go inside!

9. Oh fuck. Jeremy Vine's house of wank was the reason I kept switching over in the first place.

10. Oh fuck. Last but not least, I was very sad to see this man lose his seat. Richard Taylor is a doctor who ran as a single-issue independent in 2001 to keep Kidderminster Hospital open, and absolutely slammed Labour's junior minister David Lock into the ground. He then held on in 2005 to become the first independent MP to retain his seat since the 1970s. He's such a hero that the LibDems didn't put up any opposition against him on either occasion.

Unfortunately, the Tories did and this time round they won. Bastards.

So, what a bust that was. Here's to a hung parliament seeing some good change put through. What? It could happen.

Oh yay. OK, then, one piece of good news: bag of balls David Heathcoat-Amory, 17 years in power, lost his seat in Wells, Somerset. He literally owns this constituency. It was pretty damn satisfying seeing him lose control of it.

Last night I found myself watching a much heralded little British film called Happy-Go-Lucky on FilmFour, directed by Mike Leigh of Secrets & Lies and Vera Drake fame. It wasn't very good, to be honest: a pointless non-journey with a terrible script and an incredibly annoying soundtrack (think when Lottery-funded films have 'quirky' scenes). Without stellar performances from Sally Hawkins and the ever-brilliant Eddie Marsan, it would have been a complete waste of everybody's time.

But even though it wasn't going anywhere, I wanted to know what happened at the end. I'd been sitting through this film for two and a bit hours waiting for something to happen (caveat: a film can be good, even brilliant, without anything happening; it's just that this was not an example) and finally it was petering out to an inevitably saccharine conclusion. Still, I wanted to hear what the final words were. It's the end of a film, isn't it? Of course you do.

Then, over the final scene: "And next on FilmFour, blah di blah di blah di fucking blah."

What? You're joking, right? Now? Right now? Over the final words of the film?

But no - it happened, and in the film's closing scene. Not over the credits, which immediately followed. Over the film itself. The last bit we heard, after the voiceover, was two characters laughing. What were they laughing about? I don't know.

This is absolutely inexcusable. In fact, it's unthinkable. Further than that, it's mental. Completely, utterly mental. I can't think of any way of justifying this argument because, surely, surely, it's just so bloody obvious. YOU DON'T TALK OVER THE END OF A FILM. Even I know that, and I used to talk over films all the time.

And yet this isn't even the worst example of plugging the next show during the current one. On Christmas Day, I was watching one of the many millions of A Christmas Carol adaptations that always turn up. In fact, through circumstance more than judgement, I think I watched four or five that year. Patrick Stewart, Jim Carrey, Michael Caine and the muppets, the cracking Alistair Sim... thank Dickens I was saved from the Kelsey Grammar musical shocker.

ANYWAY, the film was drawing to its close and we all know what's going to happen. Still, we've had 90 minutes of misery and here comes the big ending, right? The closing speech in which we find that Scrooge went on to be a good man and Tiny Tim, who did not die, etc. etc. etc.

Nope.

"And next on BBC1, blah di blah di FUCKING BLAH BLAH."

Unbelievable. I mean that. I couldn't believe it. It's not just one of the most famous endings of all time in any medium, it's the whole point of the fucking story. It's the fucking moral. What the HELL is a child meant to take from that film without the final monologue? Did Tiny Tim die? They'll never know, but at least they'll know that Sue Barker's wearing Christmas holly for a predictably shit seasonal edition of Question of fucking Sport.

This has to be stopped. Now. If you're running late (these weren't) and have to - HAVE TO - talk over the credits, do it. But you don't talk over the end of a film. You just don't. I mean... that's it. No argument here. You just don't.

This says a lot about society, I think. We find ourselves accepting this And next week on Huw Davies' Week Spot, your not-so-intrepid occasional blogger rants about the BNP and asks, how can we let ourselves be in such a position that this party can exist? Make sure you stay tuned to www.weekspotblog.com for intellectual discussion end up dying in a fucking sewer with pokers in our eyeballs.

Oh, it makes me mad.

'O Brother, Where Art Thou?' The Soundtrack - Various Artists [2000]

The record that launched a thousand careers.

This compilation, soundtrack to what I personally think is the most perfect film ever made (but let's put that aside for now because that's another list no one will agree with), collected the finest crafters of folk and bluegrass the world has to offer, and in return for their rewarding viewers and listeners with unbelievably good music, rewarded these masters of their art with recognition not before known or appreciated.

Sorry, that was a sentence more unnecessarily long than Nelson Mandela's. Heigh-o!

Legends such as Alison Krauss (God, I love her voice), Gillian Welch and even Emmylou Harris do feature, it's true, but it was wonderful to see some appreciation for producer T-Bone Burnett, Dan Tyminski and, yes, Ralph Stanley. On his 75th birthday, he sang O Death - a capella - at the 44th Grammy Awards. I'm sorry, but I just find that unbelievable. In retrospect, it's a miracle Kanye West didn't turn up promising to let them finish but first adding by gum, Bob Dylan was robbed.

Yes, Dylan lost out to the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack for Album of the Year. I imagine he was very happy about it, actually. Fellow losing nominees OutKast and U2 (hah!) were probably less thrilled.

The award, and Stanley's, were just two of five Grammies won by the record - and deservedly, fully deservedly.

Anyone who knows the Coen brothers' films know they care deeply about their soundtracks, and each song fits its moment in the film perfectly, but it works so well in its own right too. To hear modern legends recreate classic bluegrass songs and make them their own is no less than incredible in effect.

Highlights? Ooh, not easy. The Soggy Bottom Boys' acoustic and full band recordings of Man Of Constant Sorrow both go down as classic versions of the song, and rightfully so, thanks to Tyminski's artful arrangement and damn fine singing.

The aforementioned O Death is another fantastic song, crooned with such fragility by Ralph Stanley it's like hearing his soul be ripped apart with his ageing body. But, y'know, more cheerful. Stanley also turns up on album and film closer Angel Band, which is just bloody lovely.

What else? Down To The River To Pray and Didn't Leave Nobody But The Baby are much-admir'd thanks to Alison Krauss' involvement, and they are both beautiful renditions, but credit must also go to Chris Thomas King for his heartbreaking version of Hard Time Killing Floor Blues.

John Hartford is responsible for two gorgeous string-laden instrumentals, there's a brilliant rare 1920s recording in Harry McClintock's Big Rock Candy Mountain (corking song) and actor Tim Blake Nelson has a more than decent stab at In The Jailhouse Now. Give that man a recording contract.

To be honest, there's only one recording on this 19-track album I would call any less than wonderful, and that's because it's excruciating - three pre-teen girls murdering In The Highways. Still, they're young. I'll forgive them.

What an album. What bluegrass. What gospel. What brilliance.

So I suppose the final question is: does this count? I wasn't going to include the album on my list because I wasn't sure if a soundtrack created by various artists should be included on an albums of the decade list. But then I took away the rules and thought about it simply: it's one of the best records of the decade. Simple as that.

How nice. My 100th post on this silly little blog, set up well over a year ago, and I get to celebrate my favourite film as well as one of my favourite albums.

Tomorrow, I'll probably pick the Being John Malkovich soundtrack (does it have one?) just so I can drone on endlessly about the film.

Spotify link.

Absent Friends - The Divine Comedy [2004]

Beautiful; intelligent; haunting.

After his decision to 'go straight' with Regeneration, it was with open arms that I welcomed the real Neil Hannon back to the stage. He's complained before that Regeneration is an underrated album, but it's completely the other way round. Fans love it. Critics love it. And it's fucking awful.

I agree the overblown scores and comedy sound effects of Fin de Siècle et al undermine Hannon's brilliant, clever, gently comic lyrics, but Regeneration made the music boring and the lyrics worse. There's a song in which he lists things he's lost. The whole album's neither funny nor deep. It's horrific.

The superb Absent Friends, then, made me breathe such a sigh of relief I blew away a small child.

But the thing to remember about Neil Hannon as a lyricist is that he's actually bloody miserable. Tell anyone you're a Divine Comedy fan and they sing National Express at you (it's really annoying); they don't know he's made nine albums, each more depressing than the last.

And in Absent Friends, he found the music to fit the words. To fully express every minutiae of sadness in its core, a full orchestra with string-led melodies are used to perfection, although Hannon still lacked the confidence to really pull off his massive orchestral gigs at the Royal Albert Hall and the Palladium (though the second half and encore of the latter is excellent).

But in Absent Friends, it's a perfect fit - chamber pop at its very best. Case in point: Sticks And Stones, with its stabbing cello and sweeping violins. The song absolutely soars. It's also hard to dislike a song that begins, "You and I go together like the molar and the drill." The title track is another cracker, uplifting and melancholy at the same time.

Hannon knows when to show restraint with his instruments, though: My Imaginary Friend is a quiet, friendly, banjo-led ditty very much in the middle of the road, but it's so utterly lovely you'd be a bastard to hate it.

The same goes for album closer Charmed Life, which, being a sugary sweet tribute to his young daughter, should by all rights be awful. But it's not. So there.

Let's not go around thinking this is happy happy fun times though. Leaving Today, about leaving his family behind, is a heartbreaker of pure misery. Musically, it's no less than haunting. Lyrically: "So suddenly awake," it begins. "No light through yonder window breaks. No crowing cock; just my old clock... "

Our Mutual Friend - definite emphasis on friends in this album - is the true standout, however. Listen to it. From the opening confession, "No matter how I try I just can't get her out of my mind" to its shattering conclusion (via the lovely throwaway line, "I woke up the next day all alone but for a headache), it involves you completely, and every individual line is perfect. The scene is so beautifully set, it's impossible not to feel for the speaker when it closes.

Sad, observant and wryly comic, Absent Friends is the album to give Divine Comedy fans hope. Can't wait for the new album.

Sorry, that was a terrible review of a wonderful record. Please listen to at least a bit of it. Merry Christmas! I'll be back with #6 on Boxing Day. Until then, here's a present, made around the release of this album:

Spotify link.

Shootenanny! - Eels [2003]

This list is fast becoming an explanation of the learning process in music; how so many albums grew on me after I'd initially dismissed them. After narrowly choosing Gorillaz over Demon Days and learning to love I Am A Bird Now, we once again have an album that only found its way onto my list in recent weeks.

I've always sworn against the critics, friends and Eels fans who said Shootenanny! is a sly masterpiece, and sided with its highly underrated predecessor, Souljacker. There was no grand reason behind it; I just thought Souljacker, with its ace slogan 'YOU LITTLE PUNKS THINK YOU OWN THIS TOWN' on the cover, was a better collection of songs, thanks to such superb efforts as Bus Stop Boxer, Dog-Faced Boy and Jungle Telegraph.

But in giving both albums another listen when compiling this list (see, I do research and stuff!), I realised - once again - that I was wrong. Again. I'm always wrong, it seems, but at least in this case I have company. Fans and critics alike may love Shootenanny! but they don't appear to have listened to it properly.

Shootenanny! is described, from Amazon to the mouths of groupies, as E's 'happy' album, 'celebrating the joys of life' (no, really). I recall one review even said Eels had completely 'dropped the misery' that so defines them for one album.

This is bollocks. If these phrases were describing 2005's more optimisic follow-up Blinking Lights And Other Revelations they could almost work, but Shootenanny! is far from joyful - and that, by the way, is why it's so good.

With song titles including Agony, Rock Hard Times and Restraining Order Blues it's never going to be an easy ride emotionally, but that's what you get with Eels. Agony, in particular, is a heartbreaking piece of, well, agony that perfectly befits its jagged guitars and stabbing drums.

Most tracks are more obviously pleasant musically, but it's still tough stuff: Love Of The Loveless, an aching alternative anthem so subtly cynical E can only wearily murmur the chorus, is probably the most famous song thanks to The O.C. and it gives a good idea of the record's hurt.

What these happy-clappy easygoing critics probably mean to say is that, musically, E took a more middle-of-the-road approach to Shootenanny!. I'm still not sure I agree - every Eels album, even misery-fest Electro-Shock Blues, has had its mainstream singles - but there are, admittedly, more radio-friendly songs on this album.

Again, though, this is providing you don't delve deeper into the lyrics when twiddling those dials. Fashion Awards comes across as a light and lovely ballad until you hit, "We'll blow off our heads in despair" in the chorus (yes, it's ironic, but still). Rock Hard Times is pure bubblegum pop, except it features the words, "It's hard to laugh as you choke / Hope you like the rotten stench of doom." The music may be more upbeat at times but the words sure as hell aren't. You could list examples of the album's depressing lyrics until the cows come home and Anthrax themselves (one for the Izzard fans), but it still wouldn't convey the overwhelming misery of the record.

And it's fantastic. From the opening trio of quality tunes (All In A Day's Work, Saturday Morning, The Good Old Days - all excellent) to the semi-optimistic pay-off Somebody Loves You, via should-be indie classics such as Lone Wolf (wonderful song), Shootenanny! is a winner. I was wrong - again.

But, y'know, Souljacker's good too...

No Spotify link today, I’m afraid, nor tomorrow. Circumstances are beyond my control. Spotify links to #21 and #20 will come with #20 on Saturday.

I Am A Bird Now - Antony & The Johnsons [2005]

I think it's fair to say Antony & The Johnsons are a band destined to split opinion: like Marmite and Manchester United, you either love them or hate them. And from hearing them for the first time up until fairly recently, I hated them.

Well, hated may be a strong word but I was certainly annoyed at all the hype. This appeared to be a band driving their USP - Antony Hegarty's unbelievably beautiful/unbelievably stupid (the clincher that divides opinion) voice - so firmly you were forced to wonder if they had anything else to recommend them.

Initially, I Am A Bird confirmed this for me. The deliberately sparse instrumentation placed too much emphasis on Hegarty's vocals, like an expensive table being placed in the middle of a scarcely-furnished room with the host standing behind you saying, "Look at this nice table. Isn't it a nice table?" The album relied too much, and too obviously, upon his voice.

But in time I've realised I was wrong, as I so often am. In fact, Hegarty only has sole dominion over the vocals in half of the tracks, thanks to contributions from Rufus Wainwright (the short and sweet What Can I Do?), Boy George (the wonderful You Are My Sister) and even Lou Reed (Fistful Of Love, another excellent track). He's happy to share the wealth to create an album of riches.

[Song from 0:12 to 2:40]

Furthermore, the album's minimalist sound isn't to brazenly show off his vocals, but to accompany them in the most appropriate way. They wouldn't work as well, or even at all, over anything loud, complicated or even fast (although this is a decent effort). The music compliments as well as complements Hegarty's voice.

Also, it's, y'know, good. Judging the backing only by how it presents the obvious is to do it a massive disservice. Although I'm personally not a fan of the rising crescendo of opening offering Hope There's Someone, which appeared in every 'Single of the Year' list, I do love the similar effect created in For Today I Am A Boy with a passion similar to that bestowed in each and every song.

Strings, too, which can make or destroy a record, are used to astonishingly good effect, turning nice into beautiful again and again (brilliant closing number Bird Guhl providing a good example). Fistful Of Love, meanwhile, concludes with a brass invasion that is no less than hugely uplifting.

I Am A Bird Now is, I have realised, superb from start to finish. Even extended sample Free At Last is there on merit, instead of merely delaying the end. And lyrically, it's just lovely: when a song with the chorus, "You are my sister and I love you - may all of your dreams come true" avoids being saccharine, you know he can write.

An album, and artist, I'm happy to have been wrong about.

Spotify link.

Origin Of Symmetry - Muse [2001]

Oh, Muse. What happened? Why are you trying to become Queen? Why did you disappear completely up your own (or is it Brian May's?) arse?

Why don't you make albums like this any more?

It's strange what hindsight can do to one's appreciation of a record. Usually, when a band loses the plot some time later their earlier efforts are hailed as masterpieces. With Muse, though, their new... 'direction' taints it. It shouldn't, but it does. And so an album that once would have made my all-time favourites list drops right down the pecking order.

As it happens, this was chosen only marginally ahead of Absolution and Black Holes And Revelations, which stepped increasingly close to the pretension precipice before The Resistance gave up all, well, resistance and plunged off the edge. If that was the musical equivalent of jumping the shark, its two closest predecessors were the true happy days, when the horizon still glowed bright and the future didn't hold The United States of fucking Eurasia.

But looking back, Origin Of Symmetry is the album that Muse, if they never get back on track, should be remembered for (yes, I am writing their obituary here). It was the album that made them, both in terms of success - Plug In Baby and the radio-unfriendly six-minute Newborn became their biggest chart hits - and self-belief.

And in Origin Of Symmetry, it's justified. The opening opuses (opii?), a trio of classically-influenced pieces, fall just the right side of pomposity and manage to make prog-rock worth listening to again (ELO, we hardly knew ye). The unsubtle piano to guitar transition in Newborn, something of a shortlived trademark given later single In Your World's near-like-for-like copy, may be as amusing as it is rawk but it's still a great tune, while Bliss is a damn good pop song.

Space Dementia, meanwhile, is probably the album's best moment: the one time their original attempt to be 'Rachmaninov meets Rage Against The Machine' - their words, I seem to recall - worked perfectly. From the opening piano solo to the melodramatic rock 'n' roll ending, it's amazingly ludicrous and in turn, ludicrously amazing. Listen to Hullabaloo's live version for the full effect.

To Muse's credit, the album doesn't slow down after such a strong start. Hyper Music is bouncy, Plug In Baby is riff-y and impressively falsetto-y and Citizen Erased is Citizen Erased. This song has won itself into the hearts of Muse fans - it's probably the most beloved song they're ever made - and you can see why: an epic deserving of the name.

The lesser lights of Screenager and Darkshines (originally meant as a single), plus a now ubiquitous cover of Feeling Good that hasn't aged well, do let the side down but Origin Of Symmetry does end on a massive high with the bombastic, and in hindsight all-too-aptly titled, Megalomania. It almosts acts as a simultaneous epilogue to their first sound and the prologue to their next. It's brooding and dark ("The good news is she can't have babies") but utterly ridiculous (again, more so live), although in this case, the better for it. It's a fitting end to a top album.

Oh, Muse. What happened?

Spotify link.

Lemonjelly.ky - Lemon Jelly [2000]

Bit of a cheat, this. Didn't take long, did it?

I'm a bit uneasy about including (the wondrously superb) Lemonjelly.ky in this list because, well, it's not really an album. A collection of their three EPs leading up to its release (two of which were, ahem, made before this decade), Lemonjelly.ky isn't as much of a masterpiece made in a moment of time as a damn good record made over a number of those moments. Does that make sense? Yes? Good, I'm glad you're with me on that.

You might remonstrate: why is it here ahead of Lost Horizons or '64-'95? They're both 'real' albums, and brilliant to boot. Plus '64-'95 has William Shatner on it! Why isn't that on this list instead of a miniature Best Of?

Because Lemonjelly.ky gives a good idea of how its creators were able to make those follow-up albums - and also because it's better (sorry).

In The Bath is a chunky beast that somehow manages to soothe and intimidate at the same time. His Majesty King Raam is lighter than angel tread and can transport a person from a packed London tube to a Philadelphia advert. The Staunton Lick is... well, it's just brilliant, is what it is.

The highlight, though, has to be ident-friendly Homage To Patagonia, a violent two-act epic complete with ponderous keyboard prods, Spanish guitar and heavy breathing that comes together into a seamless montage of aceness (slightly altered version below).

Lemon Jelly have never been afraid to innovate: see their note on '64-'95's cover sleeve for proof of that ("This is our new album. It's not like our old album."), or their replacement of support acts with audience participation overseen by a giant figure of Death (Bingo, anyone?).

But if their two albums hence showed what else they could do, it began here. Who says ambient trip-hop has to always be background music? Who says you can't make nine-minute instrumentals both catchy and inventive? Balls to the lot of you, say Lemon Jelly, before apologising, smiling mischievously and putting on another slice of understated magic.

Lemonjelly.ky might be lacking the happy choruses of Lost Horizons' semi-hit singles Space Walk and Nice Weather For Ducks, but anyone who says it's any less joyful hasn't heard the amazing use of The Staunton Lick to end seminal Channel 4 sitcom Spaced for good.

Something missed by so many tryhards is that instrumentals (come on, they are instrumentals) can put a big stupid smile on your face, and nowhere do Lemon Jelly show that better than on Lemonjelly.ky.

---

Spotify link non-existent because Spotify doesn't have this album because Spotify sucks arse sometimes.

Rabbit Fur Coat - Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins [2006]

We - OK, I - kick off the list with an inclusion that probably surprises me more than you.

I liked Rabbit Fur Coat a lot on first listen, but couldn't see myself becoming completely enamoured with it. Good tunes, nice production, decent voice - I'll take it, I thought, but I won't take it with me to a desert island (in the unlikely event of being able to choose what I could take with me to a place I am forced to spent the rest of my life (take that, Radio 4)).

Yet I found myself going back to this album again and again. It is, quite simply, a very good album.

At its purest, Rabbit Fur Coat is a portrait of a youngish woman losing her faith in God but generally being pretty OK with it. It's an odd approach, but as miserably touching/touchingly miserable sulk Born Secular shows, it can work if pitched just the right side of cynicism. Lewis' heart isn't in the gospel refrain Run Devil Run; she's much more content sharing beers with her friends and praying once a week just because "it's a surefire bet [she's] gonna die" (lyrics from standout track The Charging Sky).

Clearly, a blues album this ain't, even if leading ballad Happy is the most misleading song title since Ironic. No, Lewis seems quite accepting of God's apparent absence, albeit in less of a live-fast-die-young way; more, "Well, since I'm going to die anyway I might as well listen to more Bob Dylan."

Indeed, the Minnesotan minstrel is a heavy influence on this album. Folk-tinged melodies, lyrics that steadfastly refuse to do something so boring as fit into metre or, y'know, make sense - Rabbit Fur Coat as a whole is more of a Dylan tribute than The Charging Sky's reference to his '80s beard or the cover of the Traveling Wilburys' Handle With Care (dutifully handled with care).

But that's perhaps doing Lewis a disservice. Her songs are intelligent and tender in equal measure, and there's an honest poetry in her lyrics:

Are you really that pure, sir?
Thought I saw you in Vegas
It was not pretty - but she was

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Spotify link.

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So there's the first, slightly overlong review - of #30, Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins' Rabbit Fur Coat, released in 2006. And I managed all that without once mentioning Rilo Kiley, Lewis' acting or Ben Gibbard of Death Cab For Cutie and The Postal Service turning up in Handle With Care.

Ah shit.

Thanks to the exploits of a certain Adil Rashid and a slightly less certain Ryan Sidebottom, it was an exciting finish to the first one-day international between England and Australia at the Oval – but let's get one thing clear.

This one-day international was not the Ashes. In fact, it was nowhere near the Ashes. If the Ashes series this year was a rollercoaster ride of emotion and Hollywood heroics, this match was a broken ghost train on Blackpool Pier.

The fact of the matter is that the first of this autumn's seven-match series was a poor, unexciting match for the spectator from start to (about ten overs before) the finish.

Many people can be blamed for this: Messrs Collingwood, Bopara and Clarke for a start, all mistiming the ball and scoring at a rate to make Geoffrey Boycott impatient. But if we're talking anticlimaxes, we have to point the finger at the tour's schedulers.

Up until now, the one-day internationals have always been played prior to the Ashes Test series, and that's absolutely the way it should be. An Ashes summer is all about that treasured urn, and so the fight for it should be left until last. You don't get it out the way; you build up to it, and treasure it like that last Rolo.

The problem is that schedulers, apparently knowing little about the game, seem to automatically assume the shorter form of the game is more exciting for spectators. It was decided long ago by these people that when it comes to cricket formats, shorter is better - like a genetic engineering maverick cheating at a limbo competition.

But they are forgetting this is England vs Australia, a cricketing rivalry older than time, and fans don't want to see one-day thumb wars; they want to see epic five-day battles between two mighty opposing armies.

The schedulers are, in fact, guilty of underestimating or even patronising the fans. Despite how it may often appear, even the Barmy Army know their cricket, and appreciate a gritty battle for domination as much as anyone. It may seem surprising at first but they're more interested in England grinding out a difficult last session than playing and missing at medium-pacers in bright yellow jumpsuits – and that's why attendances for international 50-over games are on the wane.

It is true that Twenty20 continues to thrive. But the 40- and 50-over formats are struggling, and needed a confidence boost from the ECB a month or so ago when they confirmed the existence of a Sunday League for all counties next season, to stay alive. The reason seems to be that 40- and 50-over games strike an unhappy medium: neither drawn-out tactical battles or 20-over slogfests, they take up a whole day and often end in a massive anti-climax (albeit not in this game, admittedly).

For the schedulers to end this Ashes summer with a 50-over competition, and one dragged out to a yawn-inducing seven matches as well, was a thoughtless mistake. Does anyone really care once the Ashes have been won or lost (and think what the ODI crowds would be like had England lost)? It's a question that needs to be asked. Playing the one-dayers before the Test series whets the appetite - playing them after is a bloated dessert nobody can stomach, let alone finish.

It also seems that if the schedulers do know little about the game, they know even less about the British weather. It may be that they wanted the Test series to be played earlier in the summer so they would be least affected by rain – a noble pursuit, but one that almost seems to contradict nature and the history of cricket.

But why has the one-day series been arranged so that the matches move gradually northwards? After the first four matches take place in London and Southampton, the series moves on to Nottingham and finally Durham, deep, by that point, into September. The likelihood of these games being rained off increases exponentially with every day and every mile.

All in all, it's a crazy cricketing summer – but perhaps not for the right reasons.

Wildflower.

Just the mention of the word evokes vivid images in my mind. Camping with my family. Sitting by the campfire and making S'mores. The Energizer bunny pounding his drum at the top of Nasty Grade. Shuffling up the never ending Mile 5 hill. Running through the amazing crowds in Redondo Vista. Drinking ice-cold post-race beers (maybe the best part of all.)

It is my favorite race on the calendar, not just for epic nature of the race itself, but for the entire Wildflower experience.

This year was our third trip to Lake San Antonio for this event. In 2006, I did the Olympic distance race and in 2008 stepped up to the Long Course. This year, once again, the Long Course was on the menu. The Long Course is the event that truly defines Wildflower. It is a half-ironman distance event and as the saying goes, the only flat spot on the entire course is during the swim. Over 5000 ft of climbing on the bike, and over 1100 ft on run course that is 60% off-road trails and 40% pavement. Brutal.

Thursday morning, we got on the road early and after a few stops we arrived at the race site around 3. After entering the gate, we stopped by the AVIA booth where they were giving out free gelatos... a welcome treat. Kenny Sousa himself hand-delivered them to our car... pretty cool. We hopped out for a minute and another AVIA athlete, Saul Raisin, was at the booth signing copies of his book, "Tour de Life: From Coma to Competition". He has an incredible story and it was a pleasure to meet him and get a copy of his book. I just started reading it and it is amazing.

This year, we camped in Harris Creek once again with a crew of Cal Poly Alums that have been working the run aid station for over 20 years. We met them last year (through our kids) and had a blast. A great group of people and there were over 15 little kids in our area so our girls had a fantastic time the whole weekend.

I spent Friday doing typical pre-race stuff... in the afternoon I went down to the festival area to get my race packet and went for a short swim to make sure the wetsuit still fit. Water temp was just touch on the chilly side (64 degrees or so), but not an issue. After my swim I cruised the expo and had a chance to catch up with Sebastian Linke from SLS3, who set me up with some of their new compression socks to wear on race day. Check out their stuff... the best compression gear on the market.

Saturday morning, I woke up at 5 to get an early start on some calories and coffee. Typical race-morning breakfast... cereal with soy milk (I am trying to cut back on dairy), banana, wheat bread with peanut butter, coffee and water. I caught the boat shuttle at 7:00 and got into the transition area around 7:30, plenty of time to set up for my 8:35 wave start.

Swim - 28:02 (10th AG). HR (156 avg, 160 max)
Swim start was super aggressive. I lined up front and dead center, which was probably asking for trouble, but my swimming has been strong lately so I was confident in my ability to swim near the front of the group. After the mad sprint into the water, there was lots of contact and elbows the first 150 meters to the first bouy... guys were hammering! I was swimming just about flat out to try to stay in a good position. Fortunately, things settled down after the first turn and I was able to get into a rhythm. One thing I like about this swim course is that since there are no waves, sighting is super easy. Got back to the boat ramp and chuckled to myself, my swim time was identical to my split at Oceanside. One of these days, I'm going to break 28 minutes!!

T1- 3:29.
I was racked in an ideal spot, dead center of the transition area on the end of the row at the center aisle. For some reason, I had a hard time getting my left leg out of my wetsuit and nearly fell over twice trying to get it off.

Bike - 2:49:56 (19.8 mph, 42nd AG) HR (139 avg, 172 max)
The course is just hard. Coming out of transition, I just tried to get the legs moving by staying in a small gear on some rollers near the lake and up the Beach Hill climb. Once out of the campground, I pushed the pace for the first 20 miles out to the right turn on Jolon Road and maintained my HR between 145-155. At the turn, I dropped the intensity a touch and just focused on staying aero and maintaining a good rhythm. The miles between 20 and 35 are rolling with some long gentle descents so I used this opportunity to let the HR drop and recover slightly. Felt very strong going up Nasty Grade and the final hills into the transition. Total bike was much better than last year (2:56:59)... wanted to go under 2:50 so am happy with it.

At the top of the Nasty Grade
nutrition
2 bottles of GuH20/CarboPro (325 cals each). 1 1/2 btls of water. Also took a few pulls off a Gu flask..but I didn't finish it (maybe had 1-2 gels). total cals on the bike. 750-800. 5 Thermolytes per hour.

T2 - 1:47
A bit slow. I took a few seconds to put on my new SLS3 compression socks. By having them rolled up beforehand, they went on quite easily.

Run - 1:43:57, 7:56 per mile (49th AG), HR (164 avg, 194 max)
This course beat me again. I came out of transition feeling good and started out very easy. Mile 1 split was 5:50..so I knew the markers were off... I'd estimate I ran something around 7:15. Just tried to find a rhythm in the first 4 miles, but couldn't seem to get my HR under control. Got to the monster hill at mile 5 and had to walk a pretty long section. After going down the descent, my hamstring started cramping. Stopped to massage it and stretch it out. That seemed to take care of it, it didn't bother me again. After mile 6, I started to feel better and managed to maintain a decent pace. The markers were all off so I don't know how fast, but I would estimate low 7 min pace. Maintained a decent pace through Redondo Vista and through the pit (no walking like last year). I did walk through the final aid station at mile 12 though, but at least it was only for a few seconds.

suffering on the run course
Nutrition. Carried a GU flask with caffeinated TriBerry GU, which I sucked on before every aid station. Alternated Gatorade and water.

Strange, I felt like I did a lot better than last year (much less walking), but my time was only a little over a minute faster. I am disappointed with this... 1:43 is pretty embarrassing. This course is slower than Oceanside, maybe 5 minutes slower. But not 14 minutes slower.

Next year, I am going to change my prep entirely for this. More run mileage, lots more hills and I will need to get a lot leaner.

A side note on the socks. It was my first time racing in compression socks. It's hard to say if they helped me on the run course. But the day after... OMG. Normally, my lower legs are trashed after a race. This time, my legs are only a bit sore. That alone is worth the few seconds to put them on.

Final time - 5:07:14 (36th AG, 158th OA).

About 10 minutes faster than Wildflower last year, but 28 minutes SLOWER than Oceanside a month ago. I have a few theories. My running has been inconsistent the last four weeks... my slower than expected 5K was an indication of that. I also had a lot of work travel this month so my diet was a way off. I am about 3-4 lbs heavier than when I raced Oceanside, on a hilly course those extra pounds are a killer.

Racewise, I am not happy with the result, I believe I performed way under my potential. Back to the drawing board.

The first big race of the season is in the books. This is my 3rd year racing at Oceanside. It's a great event that I look forward to every year.

My weakness has always been my cycling so my goal heading into the winter was to really work on my cycling and with improved bike fitness, put myself into a position where I could be top 10 in my AG and go sub 4:30 on this course.

Overall, I'd give my winter training an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10. I certainly made some huge gains in my cycling ability, but I didn't get the mega-mileage that I was really hoping for. Most of this was simply less-than ideal time management and my other life commitments springing up from time to time. It was good, but not great.

On to the race report.

Swim - 28:01 (15th AG, 126th OA)
Oceanside is notorious for having a cold-water swim, there is always a lot of angst in the transition area with people wondering exactly HOW cold is it? The posted water temp was 58.5 and the race director was allowing booties, but in all honesty, it wasn't that bad. I wore two swim caps to help keep my head warm and I was fine. Once the gun went off, I quickly got into a pretty good rhythm. Unfortunately, there were no good feet for me to draft on, though I did feel the occasional hand on my foot. Someone was catching a ride off of me for a while... I hate it when that happens. Oh well. After the 2nd or 3rd buoy I started to catch some of the slower swimmers from the waves in front of me which forced me to zig-zag a bit to get around them. Before I knew it, I was at the turnaround and heading back into the harbor. There were some slight swells near the harbor mouth, but again, it wasn't bad at all. I do have to mention that I picked up some new googles at the Expo, which I absolutely love... the TYR TRacers. They are great... visibility was perfect, no leaking and no fogging. I usually have to clear my goggles at least a couple times during a race... these were perfect. Anyway, I made it back with no issues and climbed out the water feeling pretty good. My time of 28:01 is a PR for me, but not by a big margin. I seem to always swim close to the same time... (2007 - 28:31, 2008 - 28:59).

Transition 2 - 3:43
This race has a very long run from the swim exit to the far end of the transition area and around again. I was running pretty fast to get to my bike and probably pissed some guys off that were jogging slowly when I pushed passed them. Sorry dudes. Got to the bike and briefly considering putting on the arm warmers on that I had laid out. But, despite the fact that air was cold, the sun was out and I skipped them. Got the bike and got on the road quickly from there.

Bike - 2:35:39, 21.6 mph avg (34th AG, 158th OA)
New bike, new position and a focus on cycling for the winter... I had made the investment, this is where I was hoping to see the big improvement from last year. Nutrition on the bike was two bottles of my GuH20/CarboPro mix, 2 scoops of each which equates to approximately 325 calories. This is a proven mixture that I've used a lot in training which my stomach handles easily. One bottle on the downtube and one in my aerobar-mounted bottle cage. I also had a flask with 14 Thermolyte tablets in a small bento box. No solid food. Once out on the course, my legs came under me pretty quickly and I started to roll through the field, passing lots of guys right away. I race without a HR monitor, but I could tell that my adrenaline was pumping and I was being too aggressive. After the first little climb on San Mateo (about 4 miles in), I dialed it back and just kept it steady. The first 20 miles of the course is mostly flat with just a couple little rollers, its very tempting to hammer and put lots of time in the bank. But after having done the race a couple times, I know that it's the back half where the race can be made or broken. Even so, I felt really good and was keeping a nice pace... I hit the 20 mile mark in 52:32 (22.8 mph avg). After the left turn at around mile 23 onto Christianitos, the course gets more challenging with a series of rollers until the first major climb at mile 28. By this time, I had finished my first bottle of nutrition and at the first bottle exchange I swapped it for a bottle of plain water. I also took 1/2 of my electrolyte tablets. From this point on, I alternated between taking drinks of plain water and my drink mix. Just after the aid station, I caught up to a guy with nearly the same exact bike set-up as me (same model Cervelo P2C, same wheelset) in this section who I ended playing cat and mouse for about 15 miles. He would pass me on the uphills, I would catch him on the downhills and the flatter sections, back and forth. It made the time go faster and we ended up working our way past a lot of riders as we passed and repassed one another. I managed to get away from him on the final climb and that was the last I saw of him the rest of the race. Once over the final climb, I caught another guy on a black Guru and we did the same thing on the descent and on the final approach down Vandergrift. I passed him, he repassed me... I fell back to 10 meters... repassed, repeat. All the way back into transition. Rolling back into the Harbor, I finished off my second bottle of nutrition, took the rest of my electrolyte tabs and was feeling really good and optimistic for a good run. I was really hoping for a ride closer to 2:30, but after seeing how my relative performance improved this year, compared to prior years (2007 - 224th, 2008 - 386th ), I was pretty happy.

Transition 2 - 1:47
A pretty quick transition. I had my feet out of my shoes as I rolled in. Got the bike racked quickly and was into my running shoes. Grabbed a flask of TriBerry-flavored GU (w/caffeine, natch) to carry with me and my sunglasses and was off.

Run - 1:29:53, 6:52/mile avg (19th AG, 107th OA)
Last year at Vineman, I had my best run ever in an half-ironman (1:25) by running the first 5 miles very conservatively then slowing picking up the pace the back half of the course. My intention was to use the same strategy and I kept telling myself to take it easy, get the HR under control and let the legs get loose before trying to make any moves. The only wrinkle I hadn't really trained for was the 1/4 mile sand section which was re-introduced this year. We had to run over the sand section at the beginning and end of each loop, so there was about one full mile of running in semi-soft to soft sand. However, my first mile was 6:47 even with the sand section and I was feeling pretty good. Mile 2 was 6:45. I took sips from my gel flask and got some gatorade and/or water at each aid station and I kept the pace right around 6:45-6:50 range for the first loop. I tried not to pay attention to the other athletes or worry about catching anyone, I simply concentrated on keeping a steady, strong pace. Once out on the second loop and through the 3rd (of 4) sand sections, I tried to pick up the pace. I started looking ahead at the runners and worked on reeling them in, one by one... especially if they were in my age group. Despite my efforts, my pace was not improving and even slowing slightly. At the aid station just before mile 9, I started taking cola to try to get a boost from the sugar and caffeine. After doing some mental arithmetic, I realized that I couldn't afford to slow down at all if I was going to break 4:40, I needed to maintain nothing slower than 7:00 pace. That was my motivation the last 2 or 3 miles. Finally, once through the final sand section, the finish line and crowd was in sight and I even managed a slight surge to pass one last guy in my AG in the final straight.

Final time 4:39:02 (14th AG, 95th OA)

I'm happy with the performance. It's not the 4:30 I was looking for, but it's a solid improvement from previous years. Execution was solid, there isn't anything I'd do differently and it's a lifetime PR for the distance (though not by much... I went 4:39:4-something way back in 1999 at Eagleman, a far easier course). Both the swim and bike splits were PR's. The thing I'm happiest about is that my relative performance in all three sports was much more consistant than it ever has been. I still have a lot of work to do on my cycling, but now my ability on the bike is at least somewhat on par with my swimming and running.

Now onto to Wildflower.

I was in Tuscon last week for the Gorilla Multisport Winter Training Camp. My original intention was to blog every day while at camp to give the daily update on the experience. But, frankly, I was too tired to manage it. So, now I am typing this from home in San Diego after a few days of recovery and decompression.

I had been looking forward to this for a while... five days of nothing but training, learning and hanging out with some other like-minded triathletes.

We arrived on Tuesday, I'll call it Day 0. After the long drive I was pretty wired, so I went for a quick run before some grub and bed. Our hotel was about 2 miles from the Kino Sports Complex, which is where the Arizona Diamondbacks do their spring training... made for a nice turnaround for the out and back route. Workout #1 in the books.

Day 1 - Wednesday
The other campers were not due to arrive until mid-day, but since we were in town and had some free time, my friend and Gorilla Multisport Coach DeeAnn and I went to a Masters workout at the University of Arizona. They run a nice program over there and the pool is amazing. With the week of heavy training ahead, I was glad to find out that the workout was an easy one. Lots of fast 100's and 50's with lots of rest, along with some technique work. I ended up with just over 3000 yards for the workout. After some coffee, breakfast and a short rest, I headed out for a run out to the Kino Sports Complex again. One of the campers from Florida, Joseph, had arrived, so he joined me. We ended up with just over 4.5 miles of easy jogging. After lunch and "registration", the entire crew convened for the first ride of the camp, Gates Pass. The ride began with a flat stretch through urban Tucson, which was not great due to all the stoplights. But once we were out of town, the scenery was amazing... spectacular views of the desert and endless miles of cactus and beautiful landscapes. The highlight of the ride was the climb up and over Gates Pass, which has a section at the top that rivals some of the steepest roads I've ever climbed on a bike. Out of the saddle in the 39x26, just trying to keep the pedals turning over. After a photo opp at the top, we bombed down the backside and back into town. Total ride was 38 miles. After getting back to the hotel and cleaning up, we were treated to a nutrition presentation from Bob Seebohar (www.fuel4mance.com), elite coach and sports nutritionist for the 2008 US Olympic Triathlon Team. I learned a lot about metabolic efficiency and picked up some tips that I will definitely incorporate into my own training.

Day 2 - Thursday
AM - 50 mile ride out to Colossal Cave Mountain Park. Coach Bob and Seton Claggett from TriSports.com joined us for the ride. Both are great guys and strong athletes. Overall, an moderate ride with lots of false flats and gentle inclines. The best part was that all the climbing was in the first 30 miles and the entire 20 mile return trip was a gentle descent. Immediately upon returning, our group headed out for a quick 20 minute transition run. Coach Bob rode and ran with us and gave us some great tips on run cadence. After a quick bite to eat, I put my legs up for an hour to rest up for the afternoon ride.
PM - 38 mile ride, the bottom half of the El Tour de Tucson route. By this time, the day had turned hot and windy... so we were treated to a pretty tough ride, starting out in urban Tucson, than out to some less-traveled roads in the north part of town. As soon as we could get our bikes in the hotel rooms and showered up, we headed over to a strength workout with Coach Bob. We focused on a concept he calls neuromuscular activation... essentially a series of pre and post-workout movements that activate the key muscle groups. Again, I learned a lot... great stuff.

Day 3 - Friday
AM - The Shootout is a regular Saturday hammerfeest that has been taking place in Tucson for over 30 years... its a fairly challenging route famous for attracting the most competitive cyclists and is typically full of attacks and counterattacks. We choose to do The Shootout ride on Friday on our own to get a sample of the route without the blistering pace and a big peleton. Seton Claggett from TriSports.com rode with us again. It started out with an easy 15 miles in town than a long 15 miles of false flat... nearly dead straight... before it finally kicks up with a final short steep climb. I was feeling pretty strong so I kept the pace high on the false flat, but once the hill came Seton dropped me like a rock as he disappeared up the steep incline. The local knowledge proved to be pretty handy! After regrouping, we headed back into town at a pretty good clip (22-24 mph) thanks to the mostly flat and gently descending route.
PM - Late Friday afternoon, I had a swim analysis and video scheduled... but beforehand, for the first time in three days, I had a couple hours to relax. So I napped by the pool. After my nap and a shower, I headed over to TriSports for my swim video. They have a sweet two-lane Endless Pool set-up with underwater and above water cameras. The instructor told me that my stroke was pretty solid (I hope so!), but gave me a few suggestions that I think will be helpful. In particular, one thing that I discovered is that I tend to pull up short with my right arm on the pull. So I need to concentrate on finishing my stroke on that side. Good feedback and something I probably would have never figured out on my own without the video feedback.

Saturday - Day 4
AM - This was the big day. Mt. Lemmon. A 26 mile climb rising from 2500 ft to a peak over 8200 ft. I've ridden San Diego's big climb, Palomar Mountain... which is tough. But the top of Palomar is at just over 5000 ft. When climbing Mt. Lemmon, the 5000 ft mark is not even halfway up the climb. Palomar is steeper, but it is the length of Mt. Lemmon that is killer... over 2 hrs of consistent work going up the mountain. We started the ride with an easy 15 miles of riding through Tucson and regrouped at a coffee shop about 2 miles from the Mile 0 marker at the base of the climb. After some pics and a double shot of espresso, we started up. There were 5 of us (myself, Norm, Manny, Joseph, and Greg) in the group that agreed to ride the whole mountain... the rest of the campers would climb for 90 minutes as far as they could go and then turn around. The summit team (sounds cool, eh?) all exchanged numbers and arranged to text or call each other if for some reason we needed to turn around. Otherwise, we would all meet up at the top. We got going and could see the road twisting up the mountain ahead of us... it was pretty intimidating. About 50 yards past the Mile 0 sign, Norm informed me that my rear tire was flat. Crap. He stayed back to help me get it changed while the rest of the group proceeded ahead. Once I fixed the tire, we proceeded again. The first 5 miles of the climb were tough, there were some killer headwinds that made it tough just to stay upright on the bike. I thought to myself that if the entire climb was this windy, it was going to be a very, very difficult day. Fortunately, as the road twisted and turned up the mountain there was some shelter from the wind and it got easier. I made a concerted effort to keep my HR in high Zone 2 (130-140) and just stayed on my 39x26 gear keeping the cadence high. This netted me a blistering pace of about 10-11 mph. Ha. Every few minutes, I shifted up to my 25 or 23 and climbed out of the saddle to give my hamstrings and lower back a rest. At Mile 7, I caught Manny and Joseph and we all took some pictures from the Seven Cataracts viewpoint. Spectacular. After the short break, I continued up the climb and quickly separated from the other guys. The views up the mountain were simply unbelievable, incredible rock formations and of course, the view of the valley falling further and further away... the closest thing I can relate them to is the Grand Canyon. It's hard to do them justice with words or even pictures. The rest of the climb went pretty well. Every time my legs were screaming for a break, the slope softened a bit and I was able to recover just enough for the next tough stretch ahead. Finally, I got to the first peak at Mile 21 and was treated to a descent. A descent? Wait, I'm not at the top yet! The final few miles of the "climb" were a bowl that drops about 400 ft before re-ascending to 8200 ft at the village of Mt. Lemmon. At the base of the final climb, I caught Greg whom I hadn't seen since I flatted two hours before. We laughed about how tough the climb was, and rolled into town together. A great sense of accomplishment that we indulged by getting some hot chocolate (it was cold!) and huge pieces of banana cream pie. About 10 minutes later, Norm rolled in and about 30 minutes later, Manny arrived. Shortly thereafter, we got a text that Joseph had turned around. So we finished up our good, got some pics and then headed back down the mountain. It was about 30 degrees cooler at the top, so I put on my arm warmers and shoved some loose paper (the cafe to-go menus!) in my jersey front to block the wind. It took about 25 minutes of work to get back out to the first peak, which after the long break and food was tough. But once back to Mile 21, it was literally all downhill from there. The descent is somewhat technical and super-fast. By the time I got to the bottom, my hands were cramping from constantly being the brakes trying to moderate my speed. On several occasions I was touching 40 mph and that was trying to be conservative. Finally, after regrouping again at the bottom, we headed back for the final 15 miles toward home. The full day was 85 miles, about 8000 ft of climbing. A great day on the bike and one that I will remember forever.
PM - Once we rolled back into the hotel at about 3pm, we slammed our (late) lunches and got ready to head over to the University of Arizona pool for a swim workout. I was tempted to bail and just relax, but the idea of splashing around the pool for a drill workout sounded good. Finally at 5pm the tough day was over and we all gathered around the hotel pool for pizza and beer. Good times.

Sunday - Day 5
Final day of camp... no cycling. After four tough days of riding, it was nice not to be getting on the bike first thing in the morning. Besides I was running out of clean cycling clothes. Actually, I ran out of clean stuff on Friday... but was able to make do with some Woolite and the hotel room sink. Anyway, I digress. After a quick breakfast, we piled into the cars and headed out to Saguero National Park for an amazing trail run. There is a 8 mile loop that is simply spectacular. Everyone was on their own to decide how far they wanted to run, we simply had a two hour time limit. Most choose to do one loop. My legs were pretty toasted from the riding, but I wanted a little more than 8 miles. My lower threshold for a "long" run is 12 miles, so I ran one loop and did a 2 mile out and back to bring it up to the requisite dozen. The quads were not happy with me as I climbed back into the van for the 20 minute drive home. After some more breakfast and a shower, we packed up the gear, said our goodbyes and got on the road back to San Diego.

Overall, it was a tremendous few days. Training wise, it was my biggest week ever... with over 270 miles on the bike, 30 miles of running and about 7k of swimming. To think that pros do that every week!! Aside from the training, the other campers were awesome... good people all of them. It was great to spend some time hanging out, we had a blast.

Here are some pics from the rides.

Entrance to Colossal Cave Mountain Park

Joseph, Manny and Me - The Shootout Loop

Heading toward Colossal Cave Mountain Park

The Mt. Lemmon Summit Crew - Manny, Norm, Me, Greg, Joseph... before the climb

At the base of Mt. Lemmon, right before I flatted.

Somewhere near Mile 10 of the Mt. Lemmon climb

Mt. Lemmon - Looking down, around Mile 14.

Banana Cream Pie and Hot Chocolate at the top of Mt. Lemmon - delicious.

Taken while descending at 35+mph. Not recommended.

Yesterday, I ran the the San Dieguito Half Marathon as my inaugural race of the 2009 season. This was the 41st edition of the event, making the event one of the longest continually running events in the country. The course is a difficult one... not a flat spot as the athletes make their way through the rolling hills of gorgeous Rancho Santa Fe.

The last and only other time I've run here was three years ago (seems like forever), when I was just getting back into shape. The hilly course kicked my ass on that day, I ran 1:36 and it just about killed me.

Saturday night and early Sunday morning, we got a quite a lot of rain. On the way down to the race, it was still raining... but spots of clear sky were shining through so I was optimistic that once the race started it would clear up. Things weren't looking good as I picked up my race packet and it was still coming down.

But, in typical San Diego fashion... by 7:30 or so, the rain stopped and a beautiful blue sky appeared.

Before the race, I did a quick 15 min jog to get warm and loose, stripped off the warmup gear and lined up about 2 rows behind the front. Then I realized I forgot to wear my HR strap. Oh well... it was too late to run up to my car to get it.

The mile splits tell the story. These are from my Garmin, the actual race mile markers were way off.

5:47 - downhill and fast.
6:07 - mostly flat. Tried to settle into a pace.
6:54 - big ass hill. OUCH. HR is probably 300 at this point.
6:08 - downhill and then rolling. Tried to recover from big ass hill.
6:25 (31:22 for 5) - another hill.
6:31 - ok, another flippin' hill.
6:34 - a small hill and then flat to the turnaround. Tried to count to see what place I'm in, stopped counting at 20.
6:08 - mostly flat.
6:00 - downhill
6:30 (1:03:07 for 10) - up again.
5:52 - down, down, down. Quads are hurting.
6:01 - pretty flat. Just hanging on now.
6:30 - UP. This sucks.
:47 for last.1 (6:12 pace) I got passed by one guy about 300 yds from the finish. Tried to accelerate to bring him back but was toasted.

1:22:17 watch time
25th overall, 6th age-group.

Post race, my quads were pounded from the downhills and I developed a nice blood blister on my left pinky toe. This is pretty unusual for me... but running downhills is tough on the feet, I suppose.

Overall, happy with this. Not a PR, but considering the course, I'll take it.

Bad news for Team GB: eight sports have had their funding slashed ahead of the 2012 London Olympics.

They're all relatively minor sports, but the cuts are major enough: water polo is losing half of its budget and shooting will be forced to scale down from 46 funded athletes to 10. Several teams, including water polo, may be forced to pull out of the 2012 Olympics, scuppering the Government's plans to field athletes in every... field.

Well, that's not good, is it? Especially after Britain's success in the Beijing Olympics last year. I can see a lot of people being disappointed with this - and not just the athletes. The British public has fallen in love with the idea of hosting the Olympics, and knowing their own country won't be able to compete in some events will be a major blow to morale. Also, the UK was given the Olympics on the basis it would be cheap - much cheaper than Beijing. I don't think withdrawing their own team was the idea they had in mind.

It's easy to say this kind of disappointment is inevitable in a recession, and to an extent it is, but that's not the direct reason for this. No - it's a £50m funding shortfall. Yeah. OK, enough beating around the bush: the Government failed to raise ANY MONEY AT ALL from the private sector. Not a single penny. Nothing. At. All.

So yes, indirectly the economy's general downward spiralling motion is arguably to blame because private companies aren't happy to be chucking about money at the moment, and certainly not into the training of younger athletes, contributing in turn to national success (much better to invest in Iceland, eh?).

But ultimately, the Government itself must take some responsibility for failing to marshal the private sector into investing in Britain's sporting future. I don't know quite what its level of campaigning was, but clearly it wasn't enough.

I know one thing, though:

taxpayers will not be happy. Reading The Metro tomorrow morning on the bus to work, I can see them choking on their Nutri-Grains reading about how private business has let them down once again. "Why should we pay the money if they don't?", they'll ask. I don't think taxes will rise as a result of the funding shortfall - too unpopular, even with the excitement over the Games - but it's not going to help public attitudes towards companies that many see as having helped to land Britain in this economic mess in the first place. Class war, here we come: public vs. private sector. Now that's sport.