So the A-Z challenge is over. It was fun, and certainly a challenge, and I'm both happy to have done it and fairly happy I'm not forcing myself to blog every night anymore. Running today was both liberating and a bit odd at first though, as the lack of a pre-defined framework for my thoughts (in the guise of an arbitrary letter for that day) left me momentarily blank. It's very strange how you get used to letting external structures help define how you think.
Anyway, the run was very nice in the sunshine, and I ended up wondering about the nature of challenging oneself generally. I've recently found my heart-rate monitor, so I've now (should I wish, I haven't actually bothered yet) got a way of comparing my running now with past ones when I was in better shape. I'm also thinking of doing Bristol half-marathon later in the year to help keep me motivated (again, letting more external structures define what I'm doing and thinking), and there's quite a bit of me that worries that I won't be able to do it anywhere near as quickly as I did before (I'm three years older and have another child this time around) and I'll end up being disappointed because I ran it slower.
Which struck me as I ran as a really strange thing to worry about. I enjoy running, I enjoy training, I enjoy the experience of a 'big race' - and whether I come 1,000th or 2,000th or 3,000th in the final race will make absolutely no difference to my life at all in any way. So what possible problem would there be if (or when) I run it a bit slower than last time?
And yet there's something deeply ingrained in the human psyche (or at least this human's psyche) that makes us want to compete and challenge ourselves to do it faster, better, harder, whatever. It's probably the reason I decided upon blogging a different letter of the alphabet every day - just to see whether I could.
Ultimately I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing that we are so ready to challenge ourselves in such arbitrary ways. But I do know it's very odd.
Running log
Distance: 3 miles
Pace: 8:45 minute miles
Location: St Werbergs, Bristol
running feet
Running feet. These aren't mine.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Z is for Zooooom
This morning, once we'd got the kids their breakfast, we tried to get them dressed. My wife was busy this afternoon, so the plan was to try and get to our allotment to plant some broccoli and artichokes seedlings that are ready, before getting back to get lunch before she went out. Needless to say, this plan didn't run smoothly; first they wanted to 'help' mummy print some documents, by standing by our printer in the spare room and shouting (down-the-stairs) as each page printed, and then they wanted to do some printing themselves.
Finally, at about half-ten, with baby number 2 sat in the car waiting, we realised that baby number 1 simply wasn't going to put his shoes on anytime soon, so I left him and mum at home and went alone with our youngest. However, once we got to the allotment, Theo decided he wouldn't get out of the car, and I made the decision that forcing him to stay while I tried to plant seedlings was a losing game (he's only two after all). So, back home to drop him off, back to the allotment, and at about 11.15 I finally started planting. Only of course, it was a mad rush by then, as I had to get back after an hour to hand over the childcare.
And so the day continued - I got home at about 12.30, had a five minute chat with my wife as I handed over the car keys, wolfed down lunch, and then the boys were waiting to go out on our bikes as we'd planned in mummy's absence. Snacks, drinks and changes of clothes hastily thrown into bags, and we were out - chasing a steam train and then riding on it, cycling around Bristol harbour, and then eating an ice-cream. We got back about four, and once the washing was hung up I managed to sit still for about five minutes before my wife arrived home with some shopping and we got cooking, and then descended into the dinner/bath/bed routine, which went on until about 7.30. This was then followed by the general tidying/washing up that always needs to be done before the following day's onslaught, before finally collapsing into the sofa to read the paper and write this blog. Zoom indeed.
When I was a kid, I often wondered why my mum and dad showed so little interest in going out to the cinema or for dinner or whatever. It's not so much of a mystery to me now.
Finally, at about half-ten, with baby number 2 sat in the car waiting, we realised that baby number 1 simply wasn't going to put his shoes on anytime soon, so I left him and mum at home and went alone with our youngest. However, once we got to the allotment, Theo decided he wouldn't get out of the car, and I made the decision that forcing him to stay while I tried to plant seedlings was a losing game (he's only two after all). So, back home to drop him off, back to the allotment, and at about 11.15 I finally started planting. Only of course, it was a mad rush by then, as I had to get back after an hour to hand over the childcare.
And so the day continued - I got home at about 12.30, had a five minute chat with my wife as I handed over the car keys, wolfed down lunch, and then the boys were waiting to go out on our bikes as we'd planned in mummy's absence. Snacks, drinks and changes of clothes hastily thrown into bags, and we were out - chasing a steam train and then riding on it, cycling around Bristol harbour, and then eating an ice-cream. We got back about four, and once the washing was hung up I managed to sit still for about five minutes before my wife arrived home with some shopping and we got cooking, and then descended into the dinner/bath/bed routine, which went on until about 7.30. This was then followed by the general tidying/washing up that always needs to be done before the following day's onslaught, before finally collapsing into the sofa to read the paper and write this blog. Zoom indeed.
When I was a kid, I often wondered why my mum and dad showed so little interest in going out to the cinema or for dinner or whatever. It's not so much of a mystery to me now.
Friday, 29 April 2011
Y chromosones
My bonus day off today (thanks Kate and Will!) was lovely. The kids bedecked the house in bunting in the morning, and then watched the wedding, while I got a chance to do a bit of digging at our allotment (and there's always digging to be done there). We then rode to the park in the afternoon and climbed on logs, and I even got out for a run tonight. (Back to my allotment to pick up a jumper I'd left.)
I got to wondering as I ran just how far my current life is defined by the luck of the draw in procreation. We managed to pull two Y chromosones from the deck, and I wonder what where we'd be if we'd got to Xs instead? Certainly our two beautiful boys keep us on our toes, and it's fair to say our household is loud, active and full of trains.
As a boy myself I have no problems with any of this, indeed having the opportunity to ride my bike and climb on logs every weekend is fantastic. I'd like to think that had I two girls instead I'd be just as encouraging of them to clamber around in the woods - whether they'd be quite as keen on the clambering as me though is the great unknown. Would our lives be essentially the same, or would they have different interests and likes that would have taken us in completely different directions? Not that it matters of course, it's just interesting how your life can be shaped by such arbitrary factors as which chromosones your children have.
Running log
Distance: A couple of miles or so
Pace: Slow - I'd been digging the allotment for three hours this morning
Location: Ashton Gate, Bristol
I got to wondering as I ran just how far my current life is defined by the luck of the draw in procreation. We managed to pull two Y chromosones from the deck, and I wonder what where we'd be if we'd got to Xs instead? Certainly our two beautiful boys keep us on our toes, and it's fair to say our household is loud, active and full of trains.
As a boy myself I have no problems with any of this, indeed having the opportunity to ride my bike and climb on logs every weekend is fantastic. I'd like to think that had I two girls instead I'd be just as encouraging of them to clamber around in the woods - whether they'd be quite as keen on the clambering as me though is the great unknown. Would our lives be essentially the same, or would they have different interests and likes that would have taken us in completely different directions? Not that it matters of course, it's just interesting how your life can be shaped by such arbitrary factors as which chromosones your children have.
Running log
Distance: A couple of miles or so
Pace: Slow - I'd been digging the allotment for three hours this morning
Location: Ashton Gate, Bristol
View this running route at FriendFit.com
Thursday, 28 April 2011
X marks the spot
Pirates, what's not to love? OK, so there's the stealing, and the murdering, and probably the raping, but you know Johnny Depp was really cool in that film, and those hats and bandanas, and what about those treasure maps? (And yes, admittedly, it would be amazing to find a big X underneath a palm tree on a Caribbean island, that strangely no one else had spotted for 400 years).
Since becoming a parent though I've pondered on the nature of pirates quite a bit. Our culture is obsessed, and I mean absolutely obsessed with pushing the iconography of pirates to our very young children - if from the cradle girls are pushed into princesses and pink, then its equally true that boys are bombarded by pirates. Why is that?
And, while Pirates of the Caribbean et al are very entertaining, pirates really weren't that nice back in the day, and they're really not that nice now. I've already had to erm and ahhh through the inevitable 'Daddy, are there pirates still around today?' question, that obviously every young child will get around to. (Well, yes son, you see some people aren't very nice and they carry guns and take hostages. . . it's really not where you want to be five minutes before bedtime.) So, you know, can't we all just get back to firemen and builders as the indoctrination of choice for our young boys? At least they hopefully won't steal your boat if you get to meet them.
Maybe it's time for a 'pirates stink too' campaign. Don't tell either of my children I said that though. They'd make me walk the plank.
Since becoming a parent though I've pondered on the nature of pirates quite a bit. Our culture is obsessed, and I mean absolutely obsessed with pushing the iconography of pirates to our very young children - if from the cradle girls are pushed into princesses and pink, then its equally true that boys are bombarded by pirates. Why is that?
And, while Pirates of the Caribbean et al are very entertaining, pirates really weren't that nice back in the day, and they're really not that nice now. I've already had to erm and ahhh through the inevitable 'Daddy, are there pirates still around today?' question, that obviously every young child will get around to. (Well, yes son, you see some people aren't very nice and they carry guns and take hostages. . . it's really not where you want to be five minutes before bedtime.) So, you know, can't we all just get back to firemen and builders as the indoctrination of choice for our young boys? At least they hopefully won't steal your boat if you get to meet them.
Maybe it's time for a 'pirates stink too' campaign. Don't tell either of my children I said that though. They'd make me walk the plank.
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
W is for weddings (and royals)
My five-year-old had a 'street party' today at school in honour of Friday's royal nuptials. The whole affair seems to have caught his imagination, and he's suddenly become a font of all knowledge on the royal family. (Kate, it transpires, is not really a real Princess, but 'some random' person who will only becomes a Princess when the marriage is completed.)
Personally I'm completely indifferent to the big day - I wish the happy couple all the best, but I have no particular desire to know more or wave flags - and this probably reflects my own views on our royal family; I'm neither a royalist or republican because, really, I don't care enough either way. I guess my wife feels similarly (though to be honest neither of us has ever been motivated enough to discuss the subject, so perhaps she does feel strongly one way or the other).
So it's some surprise to us that Lucas is suddenly so excited and interested, and a little unsettling; do I really want him becoming aware of the existence of Prince Charles, Kate and Wills and Harry, as they're all so slightly ridiculous? Obviously, his enjoyment/enthusiasm is his cultural birthright as much as my indifference is mine and perhaps this is what is really unsettling. If parenting is all about accepting your kid's long walk away from you, then this seems like a milestone along the way. It is possibly the first time we've become aware that he is autonomously absorbing a cultural moment without any mediation from us, and we can't tell him what to think or how to react to it. Which seems a bit weird.
Personally I'm completely indifferent to the big day - I wish the happy couple all the best, but I have no particular desire to know more or wave flags - and this probably reflects my own views on our royal family; I'm neither a royalist or republican because, really, I don't care enough either way. I guess my wife feels similarly (though to be honest neither of us has ever been motivated enough to discuss the subject, so perhaps she does feel strongly one way or the other).
So it's some surprise to us that Lucas is suddenly so excited and interested, and a little unsettling; do I really want him becoming aware of the existence of Prince Charles, Kate and Wills and Harry, as they're all so slightly ridiculous? Obviously, his enjoyment/enthusiasm is his cultural birthright as much as my indifference is mine and perhaps this is what is really unsettling. If parenting is all about accepting your kid's long walk away from you, then this seems like a milestone along the way. It is possibly the first time we've become aware that he is autonomously absorbing a cultural moment without any mediation from us, and we can't tell him what to think or how to react to it. Which seems a bit weird.
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
V is for Voting alternatives
The upcoming referendum on whether we should change our voting system is looming like a saltry summer afternoon. And while I (like almost everyone else) haven't really followed closely, it seems the political discourse around a yes or no is starting to turn nasty.
Next week (or is the week after?) we get to decide whether we want to express a second (or third, or fourth) preference for our MP, in the event that one candidate doesn't get an outright majority. Laid next to recent events across the Middle East, it seems a particularly British eccentricity for so many of our politicians to get in such a tizzy over such an essentially trivial change. I'm not so sure that it's so funny though. With a cabinet featuring 18 millionaires* embarking on a massive, ideologically driven, series of budget cuts that are likely to cripple the economy and blight a generation of school leavers, it's probably worth giving some thought as to why there is such opposition to this change?
The older I get, the more openly corrupt I perceive our politics to be; when you see David Cameron sharing a stage with John Reid to extol the virtues of anything it's probably a good idea to take the exact opposing view on principle - even if they were extolling free cup cakes for all there would no doubt be some small print based on self-interest somewhere along the line. So on that basis I'll probably vote yes to AV - anything that might allow the people to chip away at the carapace of our one party state and actually express some choice about something has got to be worth a try.
*This is a made up statistic based on a half-remembered newspaper report that I can't be bothered to google. Apologies to any cabinet members who feel unfairly maligned, please feel free to post the correct figures in the comment section below.
Next week (or is the week after?) we get to decide whether we want to express a second (or third, or fourth) preference for our MP, in the event that one candidate doesn't get an outright majority. Laid next to recent events across the Middle East, it seems a particularly British eccentricity for so many of our politicians to get in such a tizzy over such an essentially trivial change. I'm not so sure that it's so funny though. With a cabinet featuring 18 millionaires* embarking on a massive, ideologically driven, series of budget cuts that are likely to cripple the economy and blight a generation of school leavers, it's probably worth giving some thought as to why there is such opposition to this change?
The older I get, the more openly corrupt I perceive our politics to be; when you see David Cameron sharing a stage with John Reid to extol the virtues of anything it's probably a good idea to take the exact opposing view on principle - even if they were extolling free cup cakes for all there would no doubt be some small print based on self-interest somewhere along the line. So on that basis I'll probably vote yes to AV - anything that might allow the people to chip away at the carapace of our one party state and actually express some choice about something has got to be worth a try.
*This is a made up statistic based on a half-remembered newspaper report that I can't be bothered to google. Apologies to any cabinet members who feel unfairly maligned, please feel free to post the correct figures in the comment section below.
Monday, 25 April 2011
U is for under-the-sea
We spent our Bank Holiday Monday at the beach in Weston-Super-Mare - a classic English seaside resort if ever there was one. It was a lovely day, and the kids loved running around the beach and stroking the donkeys. At our eldest's prompting we also took a look around the 'seaquariam' and took in the sharks, seahorses and stingrays.
The kids loved it (especially seeing a wrasse teasing a moray eel by swimming around its head), and having done quite a bit of scuba diving in the past (a six month trip around Indonesia, Thailand, Austraila and the Philippines after Uni saw to that) I always enjoy a good aquarium. But like zoos I'm never quite sure of the ethics of it all - I know fish are reputedly fairly dumb (a mind like a goldfish indeed) but are tropical fish, sharks, rays and eels really happy to be confined in (comparatively) tiny enclosures and ogled by small children?
Running log
Still no running, but hoping to get out this week
The kids loved it (especially seeing a wrasse teasing a moray eel by swimming around its head), and having done quite a bit of scuba diving in the past (a six month trip around Indonesia, Thailand, Austraila and the Philippines after Uni saw to that) I always enjoy a good aquarium. But like zoos I'm never quite sure of the ethics of it all - I know fish are reputedly fairly dumb (a mind like a goldfish indeed) but are tropical fish, sharks, rays and eels really happy to be confined in (comparatively) tiny enclosures and ogled by small children?
Running log
Still no running, but hoping to get out this week
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