am I missing something?

I quote Roger Franklin, writing in that most esteemed journal, the Herald Sun:

MELBURNIANS live in an age of wonders, there can be no doubt about that now EastLink is up and running.
Source: Eastlink offers stress free alternative

Sorry? Did I miss something? I was one of the hordes of people shuffling up the new freeway yesterday, having a gander, but I most definitely missed the “wonders”; perhaps I was too busy dodging the traffic and laughing at the signs imploring me to “slow down”.

Ha bloody ha.

I’m also a bit confused about the story on the front page of the paper, about Graham Polak being hit by a tram. I’m not confused about the tram or anything, and I’m sure it’s pretty upsetting for him and his family. I’m just not sure why it takes up the entire cover.

I mean, who is he? Is he a nobel prize-winner? A great humanitarian? Is he even a particularly good footballer?

I’ve never heard of him before.

Running
A couple of laps of the tan this lunch-time.

cuppla days off

A long-ish weekend is in the offing, starting tomorrow. It’s not the queen’s birthday, nor Prince Phillip’s as far as I’m aware; the JH clan are taking off into the wild blue yonder on a family driving holiday.

“How can you afford that?” I hear you ask.

Yes, what with petrol costing slightly more than 18 carat gold it would be cheaper to move Merimbula here. Sadly, the lovely w. didn’t go for that idea, so a drive it is, followed by an unpleasant interview with the credit card company.

Still, at least I won’t be at work. I keep having those days when you print off your calendar in the morning and see meetings from 9 to 5 non-stop.

Running
Well, not exactly non-stop. I managed to take some time off to have a quick jaunt around the tan at lunch-time. One jaunt and 8 trips up and down Anderson Street, for my sins.

Heart attack
No, not me. Do you really think I’d be blogging if I’d had a heart attack? Actually, I might, but I wouldn’t leave it to last.

I am referring to a guy at work who had a bit of a coronary while running. I don’t want to mention his name, so I’ll just call him Luke. Oops. Anyway, it turns out Luke who, by the way is a strapping 36 year-old, about 7 foot 3 with spiky blond hair and a rather showy taste in suits; he looks like if he missed out on a spot in the team for Beijing he’d seriously consider appealing to the court of arbitration for sport.

Where was I? Oh yes.

Luke – super fit guy, boxer, rower, young-ish, runs 40km/week in his sleep – he was running hard up-hill reps one day earlier this year when he started to feel a bit faint. Before he knew it, one of the pipes in his chest was bursting, blood was flooding into bits where blood should not flood and he was keeling over, preparatory to waking up in the emergency ward.

Scary eh?

Still, he’s okay now, or so he tells me. Either way, I’m not going to make him tag along in the Anderson street direction any time soon.

push ups

No running today, boohoo. As I’ve been saying this week, when you’re doing two jobs at once, something’s got to give. Today, it was running.

I left work in the dim dark past, sometime in the Jurassic period. It’s 7:26pm in the year 2008, or so I’m told, and I’ve finally made it back to home-sweet h.

Call me crazy, but I don’t feel like going out for a run in the middle of a wind tunnel. That’s how it feels out there.

So tonight, I’ll start week two of the hundred pushup challenge. Today looks pretty easy: 12, 12, 9, 7 then Max. I have no idea who Max is, or why I should push him, but we’ll see how we go.

Muscles: prepare yourself for a shock!

By the way, I’m doing a sort of experiment – I’m waiting to see how long it is before the lovely w. makes a comment about my new-found buff-ness. Nothing so far – she has drawn my attention to the bags under my eyes, how tired I look in general and the desperately filthy state of my jeans, but my well developed musculature has strangely escaped her notice.

Maybe by week 3 or 4 she’ll notice something’s up.

let it go

Ahh me, readers please feel free to file yesterday’s post under “monumental whinge”.

As you can tell I was pretty thoroughly fed up with life in general. I guess it happens from time to time.

Cruel and unusual exposure to the works of Celine Dion tends to exacerbate things greatly. I must learn to avoid her in future.

The truth is, life’s pretty good at the moment. I have a new bub and a new job. Things are on the up and up, you might say (if you were my Dad).

I just don’t have much spare time and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to persuade the lovely W. that 30km runs are a valid way of spending Sunday mornings.

The frustrating thing about running is, the wonderful sub-3 hour marathon level of fitness you might have had last October doesn’t last. What takes 6 months to build can be lost in 2 weeks.

Running
A vaguely pleasing 14.2km this lunch-time. Here it is on mapmyrun.com.

Pushups
I’m doing the 100 push up challenge with Andrew. Well, not actually WITH Andrew, I don’t schlep out to his side of town to do push-ups – that would be wierd, just at the same time. I finished week 1 last night.

So far it’s okay. No injuries. I’ve been secretly checking myself out in the mirror, looking for muscles. No sign of them yet, but we live in hope.

it shook me all week long

It’s been a while since my last post. 10 whole days, really.

Looking back: my last words seem to have been something like “I’m going for a run, I blame Em if I get sick”. Can you guess what happened next?

Yep – 15km in the dark and the rain, rapidly followed by the flu.

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I seem to get sick at least once a month, and I stay sick for the best part of a week.

I’ve stopped running while sick, having learnt my lesson last year, so that’s a lot of time not running. A lot of time to get depressed, to lose confidence, to get scared.

Readers, I’m in a funk. It’s got to the point when I really don’t actually feel like a runner.

Running
22km yesterday at a very relaxed pace.

Music
Speaking of depressing things, apparently Celine Dion has done a cover of ACDC’s You shook me all night long. Surely there’s a law against that sort of thing….

And if you can’t get enough Celine D. action, here it is on youtube…

lazy slacker slob

Yep that’s me.

After spending the morning bunkered down at the office I emerged blinking into the sunshine, only to find rather less of it than I had anticipated. Not much sunshine, but the day was over-blessed with whistling wind, gloomy clouds and the type of rain-drops that you feel are about to develop into a minor hurricane any minute.

So, I chickened out. I schlupped back upstairs and back to work.

Right now I can see a little square of blue sky out the window, taunting me. I am resolved to go for a run tonight, but my resolution is bound to be sorely tested, given the two separate after-work drinks I’ve been invited to.

Cross your fingers for me.

just too tired

Yes, I’m just too tired to think sensibly tonight. I guess that’s what happens when you’re doing 2 and a half jobs at once – none of them at all well, I might add – and coming home to chase two year olds about the place.

Luckily, there’s no security feature on wordpress that says “you must be able to think sensibly before posting”, though that might be a good idea.

So, I’m warning you not to expect anything in the way of sparkling wit or cutting social satire. I haven’t the energy.

Instead, I would like to draw your attention to this week’s edition of that august journal: Famous magazine. In particular, the headline story:

Shock reader survey: what you really think of your body

Yes, it seems after years and years of feeding our collective body image neuroses, it turns out 52% of us would try lipo and 70% have “bikini terror”.

On that basis, I think I’m a pretty typical Famous reader. I’m not particularly drawn to the idea of having my body fat sucked out with a Dyson, but I too would rather drop a dress size that sleep with Brad Pitt. I definitely have bikini terror. It doesn’t bare thinking about.

Running
Only time for 10.5 fairly rapid kilometres this lunchtime. It is my true and honest wish that somewhere in hell there is a particularly sulphurous corner reserved for those who schedule meetings at 13:00.

stop it or you’ll go blind

Err… How can I put this politely? Beating off, wanking, masturbation, all that stuff; we’ve all done it. Well, not me, obviously, but allegedly the other 99.5% of the male population does it all the time. This is despite knowing that, according to various religions, every sperm is sacred, we’ll grow hairs on our palms and/or we’ll all go blind.

Apparently, it gets worse. Researchers have discovered (how many dodgy news stories have you read that started with those three words?) that increased levels of throat cancer have been associated with oral sex. (Giving: I can’t think how receiving oral sex would be a problem.)

Last year, however, Gillison’s team published a major study that found stark differences between the risky behaviours of throat cancer patients with HPV and those without. The HPV-positive cancer patients tended to have had higher numbers of sex partners than the others and were far more likely to have had multiple oral-sex partners.
From theage.com.au today.

Great. Way to spoil everyone’s fun, guys.

Luckily, I think I’m in a position to allay any concerns you, the public, may have. Regard, if you will, the picture that accompanies that story, which I will helpfully reproduce below:

Did you notice how she’s sucking on a thermometer? There’s the problem.

Readers – add this to your notebooks – it’s generally not a good idea to chew or suck on a tube filled with mercury.

I’m surprised she doesn’t glow in the dark!

Running
My usual 12.5km course around the streets near my joint.