Hokay

Yesterday. Tori's birthday. Blog's birthday. Three years. Haven't blogged for about three weeks. But why?

I AM LE TIRED.

But seriously, my internet's buggered up in the house yet again, plus a certain factor has been distracting me. My bad.

So, in brief, but WITH pictures...

Head of the Taff 2007: Morning we raced in fours, afternoon in an eight. My seat came off after a few hundred metres of the 3.4km and I did the rest of the race sliding on my arse, with consequent huge oozing sores. Yummy.



The next weekend: OTC Royal Engineers Competition, Minley Barracks, Surrey. Endurance run with a stretcher made of a chunk of tank track (team pictured below, after the general group one), command task, bridge building and boat race. I ended up being 'RBS Six Nations Man of the Weekend' for being extra specially good. I ran myself sick, as did everyone. I was supposed to sit out the command task to be used as brawn for the more physical tasks, but I substituted in behind the judge's back on the command task because I'd figured out where they were going wrong. Towers of Hanoi with tractor tyres, elementary, doncha know. I apparently lobbed bits of steel bridge girder around like a loon, in the same testosterone fuelled neanderthal rage that saw me taking over the assault boat we were paddling and beasting everyone on from the back. I'd be an awesome rowing cox, if only I were 40 kilograms lighter. Oh, and I forgot to mention the Hawaiian party on Saturday night. Awesome stuff.

Before leaving Cardiff

After the endurance race

Hawaiian carnage

And finally, this weekend Cardiff Company played Exeter UOTC at football. They had their names embroidered on their team jackets. We had this...

Check out the goalie kit... Go Sweden!

The girls, plus 3 of our guys to make up the numbers including me in goal, won 4-1. We lost 2-1, which we thought wasn't bad really, then went to the OTC bar to watch England lose to Wales. Gutted.

Word.

Collide

The dawn is breaking
A light shining through
You're barely waking
And I'm tangled up in you

- Howie Day, Collide.

Stuck in my head since randomly looking at this group earlier today. I love those first four lines, which were beautifully apposite this morning.

Fitting with the title, rowing and OTC are colliding rather a lot at the moment... the last weekend probably removed all chance I had of breaking back into the 'decent' level crews, but am currently being aimed towards rowing with effectively the 3rd eight, consisting of 7 newbies and myself. Rather weird, being the most experienced and technically proficient member of the crew. Sadly I'm not the fastest as of the 5k we did on Saturday but I was only one place and 7 seconds off. With sufficient time in the gym turning my arse numb on the rowing machines I can probably break back at least by ergo time into the top 16, but at what cost? This coming weekend's race, just for starters, clashes with an OTC training weekend. Uhoh. As things stand I'm staying in Cardiff and rowing. I just have to hope that there isn't OTC the BUSA Regatta weekend as well.

Insert Cheese Error

2k time: 7:05

Not good... given that I haven't done one since May and it's actually an improvement on that, it might seem good, but actually without the month off pre-Christmas with a strained ankle tendon type thing, the getting fat over Christmas and the 3 weeks of concussion post-Christmas it could have been about 20 seconds faster... and it needs to be. I was admittedly doing it with the top 15 other people rowing for the club atm (a few have been bumped out due to being overqualified) but I came last by a couple of seconds... and 9 were under 6.40, so 6.45 is not an unrealistic goal. Ooh... hours of ergo fun to come.

The 600

Go tell the Spartans we made a sequel...

600 posts. Woohoo. Yes, this is one of those "I don't really have anything to say but I've been bullied into blogging" posts. I can't steal something from PostSecret because they're all Valentines themed cards this week, mostly bleak and mopey, and I can't identify with any of them. Sucks to be them. Although it sucks to be me too because I've got a 2k rowing test tomorrow and I haven't been on a rowing machine seriously in a month. It's going to be bad. Possibly horrific. In fact, it had better be. I need more bad stuff to balance out my reason to brave the overly commercialised sickeningly red and pink Valentines displays...

Tea Partay

Quote of the moment:
"Outing's off, enjoy the lie-in"

- No need to be up at 5am to be boating at 6am, thanks to Alex being off on a physio placement and everyone else being too sensible to want to sub in for him. Giggity giggity...



If only they were English, they'd know better about drinking habits. Pimm's O'Clock, all the way...

Initialize the GBL!

Quote of the moment:
+++ Divide By Cucumber Error. Please Reinstall Universe And Reboot +++

After an outing down at Cardiff Bay yesterday and another today in which my rather socialist* 4+ played fox to the 4+ and 4- hounds following us in what was apparently a practice run (and an ensuing burst blister on my thumb) I discovered what I thought were just scratch crews are actually racing on Sunday. It's the inaugural Cardiff Small Boats Head, for which I am a short notice replacement for what was a short notice crew anyway. Someone's out for reasons unknown to me from a race until today unknown to me, because during the post-training meeting on Tuesday to discuss the plan for the year I was marching home and changing into my dare T-shirt. My bad.

* Socialist 4+: A coxed four (4+) which has a n00b (and Welsh, of all things) cox who needs every call fed to him by the stroke and in which most decisions are taken either spontaneously or collectively by the 3 rowers** who aren't called Will, while Will sits quietly being the oppressed peasant.

** Rowers: Strictly speaking they're oarsmen, who handle blades and not oars. It's like guns in the Army. Guns are what the Artillery fire. Rifles are what riflemen fire, even if they aren't Riflemen. Unless they're a Machine Gunner, in which case they still don't fire a gun, but an MG, although not the sort parked outside the Officers Mess.

Can you tell I've been reading Pratchett?

Swallows and Amazons

Quote of the moment:
"If you're going to be moving in to your resplendant new housing in Cardiff prior to the 15th/16th of September (as in permanently moving in, or at least being there til the 20th... I don't know why you'd go back early, but you might...) do you have a garden, and can I pitch a tent in it until the 20th when I can move in to my amazingly-organised-people-who-forget-to-go-in-a-proper-house uni house? I am required for some rowing jollities and anti summer over-indulgence measures, but have a lack of anywhere to sleep. Yes, I am a pratt, and yes, I brought it all on my own head, and yes, you may laugh. If you let me stay you can even treat me as an adopted feral stray and give me a collar that says Fido, if it takes your fancy."

- My begging email.

The page with the dates on for rowing also has a little man endlessly ergoing. I thought it was a brilliantly monotonous piece, with good use of stark colour contrast. Long-list it for the Turner prize. Definitely worth a gold star.

In addition to pre-season rowing training, I'm going to be doing some more messing around in boats. As well as a week in Scotland with Will, Jimmy and a dinghy, I'm finally going on a Royal Engineers potential officer "visit". It's a sort of combination things-to-interest-you and things-to-test-you event, Monday to Wednesday, and includes bridge building and a raft race. Scorage.

A High Performance Athlete

Quote of the moment:
"Greetings fellow high performance athletes,

El Presidento, Sanchez and my holy self have formed the new CURC Website."

- Sex Pest appoints himself as the ghost in the evil trinity.


Oopsy daisy... look what's been put on the social page...

Cross Channel Confusion

Quote of the moment:
"I don't know how they understand each other!"

Vicky, talking about the thickly accented Spiral (Irish) and Glyn (Gog). A fair point. I didn't know either, so I left before I topped my record of 10 minutes of Big Brother a week.

On a more interesting topic, if I was still at uni rowing we might have struck a couple of bodies with the blades...

X-Rated

Quote of the moment:
As long as war is regarded as wicked, it will always have its fascination. When it is looked upon as vulgar, it will cease to be popular. - Oscar Wilde.

In the meantime, there's X-Men 3. Awesome stuff, especially the Jean Gray bits. Wolverine continues to go on amazingly bloodless 12A-rated killing sprees on the slightest provocation, which is also good. Should you not have seen it yet, stay to the end. Goodies (and not in the baddies sense) hidden after the credits.

Should have been rowing in the Monmouth Regatta today, but because of the week of heavy rain the Wye was not only high but also full of flotsam of the rudder breaking log variety, which was also apparently building up around the piers of the bridge part-way down the course. So, no racing. We may be going to the Reading Regatta instead though.

Beware the Sex Pest

Quote of the moment:
Beware the Sex Pest, my child,
The hair that spikes, the ties that match
Beware the Rowing Club and shun
The Lycra wearing batch

Contrary to the previous statement on the issue, since it's possible to access Facebook albums externally you might as well... click on the blonde monster if you want to see more.

Also, Jim lives. O frabjous day, callooh callay, etc.

What Shall We Do Tonight?

Quote of the moment:


Watch You Tube videos for 2 hours, obviously. Particularly ones of football goals.

I'm set to row tomorrow in an eight that will hopefully go to the Monmouth and Hereford regattas, made up of the 5 novice 1st boat guys who didn't make the all-star (senior + novice combined) henley boat plus 3 subs from the 2nd boat. As I'm overly fond of saying...

"A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality?..."

My rowing photos from the BUSA Regatta are online but only on Facebook, because I like the name tags. Consider it an extra incentive to join.

Upset-seeking underdogs West Ham were robbed of the FA cup by a thieving scouser. Steven Gerrard was eclipsed however by Little James, appearing on Liverpool's right wing. No matter how much he squirms, everyone who saw the match agreed it was him.

Meanwhile Jan Kromkamp's on a free loan to Momed AFC.

"I'm sweating like a rapist"

Quote of the moment:
"I'm sweating like a rapist" - the singer from The Young Knives.

Ended up going to see said band supporting The Rakes at the union tonight, my first gig since arriving at uni. Shame on me. Took Paul, Martin and Little James running around Bute Park this morning at half nine. They want a repeat episode at half eight tomorrow.

Saw Rowing James/Pest in the union pub after the gig. An hour later I got a rather alcohol influenced group message ending with this:

"...Gd luck with ur exams & keep training hard... no one likes a fatty! Jxx"

In other news, Cardiff's now on Facebook, which for the uninitiated is a directory site much like Myspace but aimed primarily at students. Also, it has "pokes". So, like, totally join it, doofus.

Damn You, Damn the Pasta and Damn Pinsent and Redgrave

Quote of the moment:
"To be fair though, the only news sources I checked were reruns of Family Guy." - Maddox.

Page 27 of this week's Gair Rhydd features an amazing photo submitted by me of the capsized boat. I thought as Dan's guns didn't make it into last week's edition (probably because of the rowing dominated back page) they should get another chance. Unfortunately this week's edition hasn't actually made it online thus far (rare, it normally beats the paper copy to publication) so the link won't actually work yet.

P^6

Quote of the moment:
"really? it's a post apocalyptic surrealist film, in which pingu and his little friend must travel through the land of ig to the great loo, down which they must flush the one fish. Y'know?

Three Fish for the Polar Bears under the sky,
Seven for the Walruses upon their floes,
Nine for the Harp Seals, doomed to die,
One for the Killer Whale on his dark throne
In the Land of Igland where the Shadows lie.
One Fish to rule them all, One Fish to find them,
One Fish to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Igland where the Shadows lie."

- spasm of Acid Will plagiarism caused by trying to write Highlander without an H key.

I was almost racing again today. I got a phonecall around half nine to tell me I was needed and would be picked up soon after nine outside the gate to Senghennydd Court, then a text around 11 saying James had got the numbers wrong and I wasn't needed. That was kind of fortunate, given I'd spent the evening at an alcohol-tinged BBQ and football fest in Bute Park. That said, no-one could exactly have had a healthy and sober pre-race week, given that we drank at BUSA, went out on Monday for the post-BUSA party and again on Thursday after the rowing awards dinner.

I didn't win anything, except that James, being an uber-cheesy git, got us all medals. We're all winners. Sigh-a-thon. The best awards of the evening were definitely the special catergories: the swimmer award (a rubber duck) for the Novice Women and a PPPPPP award for us, which meant a rowlock for Lawrie for forgetting to screw his gate up properly (the bit across the top of the rowlock which holds the oar in place) and it coming loose and letting his oar come out in the middle of a sprint race. Silly boy.

PPPPPP or P^6 means, of course, Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance.

May the 4th be with you...

...Except that it's well past midnight, because it was the rowing awards dinner tonight. I was utterly astonished not to receive a prize, of course. There was some excellent Gwyneth style weeping from the 'Best Novice Woman', but she sadly ignored the calls from the peanut gallery (clump of Novice Men tables) for a speech. We really did want her to thank her mum, dad, pets, library books and everything else.

Anyway, it's now the 5th, which means it's Small's birthday. Small is also known as Sra and very occasionally Sarah. She's now 17 and legally unleashable upon the highways.

Primus Inter Pares

All men are not born equal. Humanity is tribal and rejects the "other", be it nationality, race, political affiliation or whatever, because the human race has grown upon the basis of all hunted animals: Together we stand, divided we fall. But there must always be a loser. Life is a race. Life is a competition. To come out on top someone must come out on the bottom. Socialism will always fail because on a small scale, helping each other may help ourselves, but kibutzes do not equate to countries. When everyone is equal and gets an equal share the strong are undervalued and the weak carried along. Survival of the fittest. helping the weak does not help the individual or the species.

What is life? Fear. Anger. Brutality. Discrimination. Discrimination is natural. It is human. It is animal. Looking down on the disabled. Looking down on the short, the fat, the short sighted, the dyslexic, the dyspraxic. Who will help me survive? Who do I want to hunt with? Who will hunt best for me? The strongest, the fastest, the smartest. Who will do best now? Who will succeed?

Inclusion is a noble aspiration, but discrimination is natural. Leave the weaklings to die in the snow. Compete. Strive. Struggle. Fight. Win.

There must always be a leader. There must always be us. We must survive. Not they. We. Us. We must be best, we must conquer, we must dominate. Such is humanity. There is no fair. There is no just. There is no honour. There is only the race.

Why recycle? Why go green? For the vanishing species? For Mother Earth? For the nobility of the cause? No. For us. For us to carry on for more generations. For there to always be an us.



It's strange what comes into your mind when you let it go blank. When the noise blurs in your ears into nothing more than the roar of the sea in a shell. When your eyes fix on the back in front, when your body moves in rhythm. Until you wake up at the end, there is only the race and the race is all about us.

Follow the White Rabbit

Quote of the moment:
When playing Bulldog during outdoor 'circuits' (we went for a run to the park):
James: "Hold the line, fellas."
Me, in a suitably gravelly voice: "Hold the line. Stay with me. If you find yourself alone, walking in green fields with the sun on your face, do not be afraid..."

I cba to do a precis of the photos from the weekend today, but I did get sent a link to the social sec's archive of the year thus far, including the night after Head of the Taff...

How not to down the oar...

...and a perfect demonstration, despite it being a certain fool's second...

...and what happened to said fool after said second oar.

Been There, Done That, Got the T-Shirt

Quote of the moment:
Biffin: "When you join the Army, are you still going to row?"
James: "Sure, I'll row for the Army if I can."
Biffin: "Do the coxes get mounted guns?"
Laurie: "It'd be like Mario Kart! Would it be a disadvantage being first in Army rowing too? Could your boat be hit by a red shell just before the finish line?"

All this before the minibus pulled away from the union.

Looking up the lake to the Nottingham Forest stadium just beyond the start line.

One of the closest races, with 1750 already gone.

The back's got cartoons'n'everyfink.

The 24 Hour Row

Quote of the moment:
"Donations for sick kids, anyone?"

The shirt only lasted 20 minutes. I was getting even more hot and sweaty than I otherwise would, although it was at least slightly overcast and not totally boiling. But one of the senior guys fetched a Gair Rhydd photographer, so I whipped it off and joined Dan in The Gun Show. Ah dear. I could be in the paper in my one piece.

I then took a bucket (and put my shirt back on) and went to shake it on the other side of the road. I was getting a good 2 donations a minute for the 1 hour 40 odd minutes I was there, so hopefully 200 quid, including two fivers and several "let me empty my change in" people. My persuasive skills, honed on hundreds of missed deadlines, were put to good use for once. I then went to a lecture, fell asleep halfway through and woke up at the end with a paralysed bum.