Like most of the triathlon universe, I spent a good part of this past Saturday glued to my computer screen... watching the world's best long-distance triathletes race in Kona at the Ironman World Championships.
This race inspires me every year. Over the years, there are more memorable moments than I can list - Julie Moss's crawl across the line, Chris Legh's stumble and collapse 50 meters from the line, the Welch/Ingraham double crawl, Dick and Ricky Hoyt, the famous Jon Blais roll,... I could go on and on.
This year was full of drama once again, but this time I didn't have to wait for the edited NBC coverage to take it all in. Thanks to Universal Sports great online coverage, I was able to watch the drama of the race unfold in real-time.
Let's just say, I was hugely inspired by some of the performances this year. Chris Leito in particular put in a hugely courageous effort... riding off the front and hanging on his lead all the way until Mile 21 of the run. Let's just say I was yelling, "Come on, man, you can do it!!" at my computer screen, much to the amusement of my kids. Of course, many kudos to the winners, Craig Alexander and Chrissie Wellington. Alexander showed a champion's poise and ran a brilliant marathon to overtake Lieto and repeat as champ. And Wellington... well, she is simply on another level right now. Wow.
Also, some big-time props to Ian Mikelson, a fellow age-grouper that I had the pleasure of meeting at Wildflower this year. He uncorked a 9:09, 4th American overall. Sick. And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my other Kona peeps... Mr. Fix and Darcy G who both rocked the course with some fantastic performances.
The faint sound of the alarm on my watch pierces my consciousness. 5:30 am. It is Saturday. I click the button to turn it off and cherish for a moment how warm and comfortable the bed is. Most nights, one, if not both, of our kids has climbed in the bed at some point and last night was no different. The soft sound of their breathing slowly lulls me back to sleep. As I struggle to keep my eyes open for a moment, I consider the day in front of me. Saturdays are a big family day. After a full week of work and school, this is our chance to do something as a family. Maybe the playground for a couple hours. A birthday party in the afternoon. Some errands and maybe dinner out.
But, besides being a husband and dad, I'm also a triathlete. So that means I need to ride today. So, while most sane people sleep in on the weekends, I am lying awake at 5:50 (shoot, I dozed off) and considering the fact that if I want to get a ride in, I need to go now. And I'll be back before the girls are finished watching cartoons. But, if I go back to sleep, the opportunity will be lost. So I roll out of bed. Quietly.
The dog stirs, looks up at me with a confused look... then lays his head back down. The girls and my wife continue to sleep peacefully while I grab my gear that I laid out last night, and step into the bathroom to pull it on. I wouldn't want a light to wake them. Once dressed, I head into the kitchen and brew a cup of coffee while I mix up my bottles. The first sip of caffeine tastes like heaven. A quick bathroom stop and a few minutes later, I walk into the garage, put my helmet and shoes on, check the tires and roll out the door.
6:18 am. I can see my breath in the brisk morning air, but the sun is rising and the sky is turning blue. The legs feel good as I turn the pedals. It's going to be a beautiful day.
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.
In this blog he explains that gemmology is getting ever more scientific with all the new equipment available, that allows a more in depth analysis of a gem material.
These are big expensive pieces of equipment that are housed in the larger gem labs and universities and are proving very helpful in the identification of new synthetics and treatments.
It used to be a matter of course that when you entered the jewellery trade you enrolled in two courses to gain qualifications. The first was The Retail Jewellers Diploma (R.J.Dip. now The Professional Jewellers Diploma, P.J.Dip.) to gain knowledge about all the various aspects of the retail jewellers role. The second was enrolling on the Diploma course in gemmology from the Gemmological Association of Great Britain and Ireland, to gain an excellent understanding of gemmology and ultimately the F.G.A. I have spoken to many colleagues in recent years that are either too focused on sales or don't see the point in studying gemmology "because it's all done in labs now" rather than using some skills in store.
Erics next point is to say that the new gemmologist's job is to explain gems, synthetics, treatments and of course the beauty of these pieces to the trade and public. I spend hours every day explaining what a Tourmaline is, how angles and percentages affect the light performance of a Diamond, what is the difference between Akoya cultured pearls and Natural Pearls, what does heat treated mean, and so on. But I am able to do this with confidence because of the training I have had. So Eric is right, but this is only part of the new gemmologist's role.
We need to have more gemmologist's in or close to retail in order to protect the trade and public alike. Unfortunately there are many rogue traders in the world that don't tell the truth either intentionally or through ignorance. All jewellery professionals need a basic training using the most useful equipment a good pair of eyes and a loupe or eyeglass. This was something reinforced by Edward Johnson of GIA London where I attended a course in January. My view is it's easier to stumble into trouble with your eyes closed!
You also need to train your eyes. After coming back from a weeks Diamond Grading, I noticed colour or lack of it in everything. When a tap was running, I could easily detect the slight differences in the water coming out, just the same as Diamonds in the normal colour range. Something that made me think of doing this blog this mornig was this. My wife tells me off for putting spread on the toast on the kitchen worktop intead of on a plate. If she had an eye as trained as mine I would never get away with it. When you spread toast on a worktop it stays relativly flat, if you spread it on a plate it takes on the curvature of the plate. Yes, I know it's very sad that I notice these things, but it helps me to be a good gemmologist! Get looking!
Most of these end-of-decade lists have had a White Stripes record or two numbered in their ranks – clearly they’re an ‘important’ band (hmm) – and in that respect mine is no different.
However, unlike the others I’ve not chosen the admittedly impressive Elephant (2003), the deeply flawed but intermittently excellent White Blood Cells (2001), or even fan favourite De Stijl (2000). Nope, I’m plumping for this baby, Meg and Jack’s sixth outing and in my view, their most accomplished to date.
There are so many good songs on Icky Thump it’s hard to know where to begin. The quite phenomenally good acoustic closing number Effect And Cause? The exhilarating country-rock merriment of You Don’t Know What Love Is? The bottleneck blues mix of Dylan and Led Zeppelin on 300mph Torrential Outpour Blues? There’s not a bad track in sight.
It seems the Detroit duo still haven’t come home to roost: after embracing English culture and recording studios with their two previous records, Icky Thump, despite the bastardisation of Mrs. Jack White’s Lancastrian exclamation ‘Hecky thump’ in the title, has more of a Celtic lilt to it. Look no further than Jim Drury’s bagpipes mid-record, which fit far better than they have any right to.
It’s not the only inspiration from leftfield: I’m Slowly Turning Into You was born from a music video. Michel Gondry directed a video with no backing, then Jack wrote the song to it. How, then, it came to be one of the best songs on the album I have no idea.
Lyrically, Icky Thump shows The White Stripes to be a touch more mature than in previous efforts. Reminiscing about school and adolescence is gone in favour of political pokery (“Americans – what, nothing better to do? Why don’t you kick yourself out? You’re an immigrant too”) and, in the superb blues song Effect And Cause, wry observations on blame-casting in a break-up:
I ain’t sayin’ I’m innocent – in fact, the reverse But if you’re headed to the grave you don’t blame the hearse You’re like a little girl yelling at her brother ’cos you lost his ball
The strange thing, and best thing, about Icky Thump is how it is simultaneously like their old records – specifically their 1999 self-titled debut, all garage punk riffs and covers of blues songs – while ploughing a new furrow, toying with longer songs and instruments new to the band. For while the experiments earn their place, one of the undisputed highlights is simple rock cruncher Little Cream Soda. It’s loud in exactly the right way.
After the piano pop disappointment of Get Behind Me Satan, it’s also heartening to hear a return for Jack’s incredible electric guitar skills. There are solos aplenty, but it’s not self-indulgent; indeed, on I’m Slowly Turning Into You Jack hides a virtuoso solo behind a vocal outro.
Catch Hell Blues is the closest you’ll get to guitar-wank, with White basically having a good time on a slide guitar for four minutes. Naturally he’s very good, but the whole effect isn’t as bluesy as you feel he would like. Still a good song though.
It’s an album of instant hits (even shy ballad A Martyr For My Love For You is ripped up into an uplifting rocker), which is why I find it odd they released Conquest as a single, the mariachi-punk cover of Patti Page’s classic. It’s hardly the White Stripes at their best, even if it is great fun.
Quibbles all. Icky Thump is a fantastic record – surely The White Stripes’ best in my opinion, even if no one shares that view – and it would be nice, really, if Jack White stopped fucking around and got on with making the follow-up.
Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control (no, really), today I can only offer you my own review without a Spotify link or a blog WITH a Spotify link but with the words written by someone else.
I figured you'd prefer the latter
Guero - Beck [2005]
The first thing I should point out is that I'm hideously underqualified to write an album review. The second thing is that if this were my top thirty albums of the decade, it would read very differently.
And thirdly, I love this album, and I will tell you why.
My relationship with Guero starts with the esteemed Mr Davies. We had known each other for about a week when he made me a copy of this album and told me that I'd like it. I in turn gave him a copy of Rooster's self-titled debut. Needless to say, he never listened to it.
However, the first time I actually listened to it was probably around six months later on the Welsh M4. This was unfortunate for me because my first instinct was to dance. This album is full of beat, drawing heavily from its South American inspiration. It's also got clear lyrics that can be happily mumbled along with, and those are my two main requirements in an album, so it was obviously going to be a favourite.
If you came looking for comments about structure, symmetry and the poignant irony of a white man referencing Latino slang, you've come to the wrong place. Instead, I suggest you click on E-Pro and watch the puppets:
I've been told that I'm not allowed to link to Qué Onda Guero, which is unfortunate because it's really rather good. About an outsider in a marketplace, the shout of 'What's up, white boy?' makes sense with the rest of the lyrics, making it quite unusual for a Beck song (see Devil's Haircut for comparison).
Well, apart from this:
James Joyce Michael Bolton
But you're allowed to listen to Black Tambourine. I have no idea what it's about, but it's probably sexy. However, it is one of the worst songs on this album to pole dance to, and that's obviously what's important.
Anyway, this is your unlucky 13, which is why I'm breaking Mr Davies' rules and inserting a track by the artist that definitely doesn't feature on the wonderful Guero. It also stars a fictional robot.
Well, well, well. Barack Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize.
The Norwegian board awarding the prize said, "Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future." (More here.)
That's certainly true. But is this enough to merit the most prestigious award there is? I'd be the last to suggest Obama is all mouth and no trousers, and I'm confident he'll deliver on his promises - but the point is, in terms of world peace (the simplest of achievements, surely), he hasn't made a fantastic deal of progress yet. So what exactly is this Nobel Peace Prize honouring? An indirect inspiration to this fantastic poster?
Personally, I'd like to have seen Zimbabwe's Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai recognised for his attempts at overcoming corruption and restoring order in Zimbabwe. But then, I suppose he didn't succeed either; part of a tragic year in which he also lost his wife in a car accident. Perhaps it's right to reward effort, rather than results.
After only nine months in power Obama's Peace Prize is surely a sign of hope, not achievement. But maybe that's the point.
There is a scene at the beginning of the movie, 'Miracle', when Coach Herb Brooks (played by Kurt Russell) is telling the US Olympic Committee that he want to teach Team USA to compete with the dominant Soviet team. A team that had been the dominant force in world hockey for nearly 2 decades.
One of the committee members snidely remarks to Coach Brooks, "That is a pretty lofty goal."
Coach Brooks replies, "That's why I want to pursue it."
Prior to the 1980 Olympics, to talk openly of even competing with the Soviet hockey team was viewed as lunacy. Yet, one man was bold enough to dream of it. And we all know how that turned out.
We all participate in this sport for our own reasons. Maybe its to lose weight, to look better, to be healthier, to meet cool people, or to travel to cool race destinations. Maybe the goal is simply to finish your first triathlon and maybe even cross an Ironman finish line. These are the goals that we talk about in polite company. These are the aspirations we share with our friends and family when the subject of triathlon comes up.
But do you harbor secret dreams? Do you fantasize of loftier achievements in this sport than the ones we share with those around us?
What if you put those secret dreams out in the open?
