...because I'm a useless tosser.
I thought I'd post some Shrovetide musings about the origin of Pancake Day traditions. Lent, obviously, has been around since shortly after Jesus said 'I need to be alone; I'll be back in about 6 weeks,' so let's call that about 2000 years (8 o'clock)
Pancakes may have taken a little inventing, so we'll allow a few years, but according to Wikipedia, pancake races were alive and well by 1445 (quarter to three).
Refined sugar became affordable to the proletariat in what, the late 18th century, so let's say quarter to six (1745); I have no idea when lemons became commonly available in Britain, but as they had to be transported from the Mediterranean, it's probably fairly recently.
So where did the tradition of sugar and lemon juice on pancakes come from? How long ago? How long does something have to have been happening to become a tradition? What did people have on their pancakes before sugar and lemon juice?
There's a joke that's really apposite for Shrove Tuesday, but it involves copious numbers of racial stereotypes which are considered inappropriate in the 21st century (after 8pm); if you substitute the PC equivalent of '...and a blonde' it becomes a proper bag of spanners and doesn't work...
...so though I'm not going to post it, please feel free to laugh uproariously or frown disapprovingly and call me a useless tosser; it is Ash Wednesday after all.
Wednesday 22 February 2012
Monday 20 February 2012
Doctor, Doctor, sometimes I think I'm a wigwam...
and sometimes I think I'm a teepee.
"It's clear that you're too tense"
I have of late been suffering from the twin curses of the serious endurance athlete (*cough*)...tiredness and sore legs. Now as Already Entered Dave has rightly pointed out, running 760 miles in four and a half months may have something to do with it. I know that some of you would tweak the proboscis of such distance in hearty contempt, but I'm not a high mileage Hamster, so this is a lot for me.
The tiredness is easily managed by sleeping more (it's worth reading the whole blog just for that insightful nugget of ultra-running wisdom) but I've been radical and innovative with the soreness; I've been consciously relaxing my leg muscles before dozing off. This was taught to me as a general form of relaxation by my dear ole mom in about 1972. Hi mom! She reads every word, you know! Hey, if you don't remember the Seventies, you weren't there, man...or something like that. Anyway, I cranked up Slade on the Iplod and applied the technique to my poor sore legs in particular. it worked!
I really thought I was on to something and that my fame would spread far and wide through the endurance sport world, but it turns out that someone beat me to it; it seems to be remarkably similar to the Alexander Technique. Bugger, beaten by new-agers again! First Lananininoonoo and her yogalates, now this! Bet they didn't do it to Slade, though...
Blimey, the comments have been flooding in, inasmuch as two is a flood. Mouse posted this about mental strategies, which is worth repeating:
"Well if you've got checkpoints, how far apart are they? They give you the same xx amount of runs of xx amount of distance in the same way that IM Germany is 4 x 10k (so is Copenhagen which was quite useful for me not being confused for the following year). The JW Ultra is 3 x 10 mile runs and so on and so forth.
Although, sometimes this method is broken down into a different strategy if you are running in company (has Dave entered yet by the way?) because then it's a strategy of only telling the fish tank joke once 45 mins and other such nonsense to pass the time.
Do your route combos take you back past home? That would be an unmanageable strategy for mices because we'd just pack up and go indoors for a Mars bar instead of carrying on...."
I think that the first paragraph sums it up nicely, though on the longest days, checkpoints are about 13 miles apart; this may need an alternative plan. Hasn't Entered Dave hasn't entered (unlike Already Entered Dave) but I'm sure that the fish tank joke will be making a regular appearance. I shall be modelling my mental strategy on the excellent lateral thinking of our local Royal Mail sorting office; they have quite brilliantly eliminated the problem of discarded red rubber bands by changing them for buff-coloured rubber bands. Brighter than a marmoset in a highlighter factory, I'd say.
And yes, my multi-routes often involve passing the front door to Hamster Mansions, but I keep going coz I'm well 'ard, me!
In training news, my long run is up to 18 miles and I've started to add some running at 80% max heart rate (or 'a bit faster' as I like to think of it). Intense, yes, too tense, not yet!
"It's clear that you're too tense"
I have of late been suffering from the twin curses of the serious endurance athlete (*cough*)...tiredness and sore legs. Now as Already Entered Dave has rightly pointed out, running 760 miles in four and a half months may have something to do with it. I know that some of you would tweak the proboscis of such distance in hearty contempt, but I'm not a high mileage Hamster, so this is a lot for me.
The tiredness is easily managed by sleeping more (it's worth reading the whole blog just for that insightful nugget of ultra-running wisdom) but I've been radical and innovative with the soreness; I've been consciously relaxing my leg muscles before dozing off. This was taught to me as a general form of relaxation by my dear ole mom in about 1972. Hi mom! She reads every word, you know! Hey, if you don't remember the Seventies, you weren't there, man...or something like that. Anyway, I cranked up Slade on the Iplod and applied the technique to my poor sore legs in particular. it worked!
I really thought I was on to something and that my fame would spread far and wide through the endurance sport world, but it turns out that someone beat me to it; it seems to be remarkably similar to the Alexander Technique. Bugger, beaten by new-agers again! First Lananininoonoo and her yogalates, now this! Bet they didn't do it to Slade, though...
Blimey, the comments have been flooding in, inasmuch as two is a flood. Mouse posted this about mental strategies, which is worth repeating:
"Well if you've got checkpoints, how far apart are they? They give you the same xx amount of runs of xx amount of distance in the same way that IM Germany is 4 x 10k (so is Copenhagen which was quite useful for me not being confused for the following year). The JW Ultra is 3 x 10 mile runs and so on and so forth.
Although, sometimes this method is broken down into a different strategy if you are running in company (has Dave entered yet by the way?) because then it's a strategy of only telling the fish tank joke once 45 mins and other such nonsense to pass the time.
Do your route combos take you back past home? That would be an unmanageable strategy for mices because we'd just pack up and go indoors for a Mars bar instead of carrying on...."
I think that the first paragraph sums it up nicely, though on the longest days, checkpoints are about 13 miles apart; this may need an alternative plan. Hasn't Entered Dave hasn't entered (unlike Already Entered Dave) but I'm sure that the fish tank joke will be making a regular appearance. I shall be modelling my mental strategy on the excellent lateral thinking of our local Royal Mail sorting office; they have quite brilliantly eliminated the problem of discarded red rubber bands by changing them for buff-coloured rubber bands. Brighter than a marmoset in a highlighter factory, I'd say.
And yes, my multi-routes often involve passing the front door to Hamster Mansions, but I keep going coz I'm well 'ard, me!
In training news, my long run is up to 18 miles and I've started to add some running at 80% max heart rate (or 'a bit faster' as I like to think of it). Intense, yes, too tense, not yet!
Tuesday 7 February 2012
Doctor, doctor, I keep thinking I'm a moth...
'Ah, you want the psychiatrist, just down the corridor'
'I know that, but I saw your light was on...'
I got down to my longest run of the campaign so far (16 miles cross country, through the slush that typifies the Great British Winter, in an average of 10:13 min miling for a heartrate of 70.5% of maximum, thanks for asking!) and it got me thinking of the psychology of being out for a long time while operating at low intensity. Just how do you break it down into manageable chunks?
I know that some people view it in the same way as eating an elephant (one bite at a time) but I have long been a fan of breaking it into a few shorter runs; this is something that I discovered at IM Germany where the marathon is a four lap affair; thus the run was 4x 10k plus the finishing chute, which is psychologically pretty straightforward.
I suppose that wondering how to break down a long run into manageable chunks is in itself a technique for breaking down a long run into manageable chunks, but if you ponder this too hard, it will cause a breakdown in the space-time continuum, form a black hole and wipe out all existence in the universe faster than you can say 'who let the marmoset drive the Large Hadron Collider?' Messy, very messy.
So what was my radical discovery? Er, nothing very original, really; I ran three of my different, shorter routes, connected up with small additions as necessary. Thus, 16 miles became 3x 5.something mile loops and all was well. I finished feeling strong and ready for another marathon or so on top.
Naturally, this will be no use during the Severn Challenge; I reckon it's going to be a case of running (a word I use in its widest context) from one checkpoint to the next and letting the overall mileage take care of itself. Pass the elephant, I can eat a whole one!
In other dramatic news, I can finally reveal that I shall be running the Severn Challenge for SSAFA Forces Help. If you'd like to donate, there's a handy button over there on the right and another one at the bottom of the page; thank you kindly for your support!
'I know that, but I saw your light was on...'
I got down to my longest run of the campaign so far (16 miles cross country, through the slush that typifies the Great British Winter, in an average of 10:13 min miling for a heartrate of 70.5% of maximum, thanks for asking!) and it got me thinking of the psychology of being out for a long time while operating at low intensity. Just how do you break it down into manageable chunks?
I know that some people view it in the same way as eating an elephant (one bite at a time) but I have long been a fan of breaking it into a few shorter runs; this is something that I discovered at IM Germany where the marathon is a four lap affair; thus the run was 4x 10k plus the finishing chute, which is psychologically pretty straightforward.
I suppose that wondering how to break down a long run into manageable chunks is in itself a technique for breaking down a long run into manageable chunks, but if you ponder this too hard, it will cause a breakdown in the space-time continuum, form a black hole and wipe out all existence in the universe faster than you can say 'who let the marmoset drive the Large Hadron Collider?' Messy, very messy.
So what was my radical discovery? Er, nothing very original, really; I ran three of my different, shorter routes, connected up with small additions as necessary. Thus, 16 miles became 3x 5.something mile loops and all was well. I finished feeling strong and ready for another marathon or so on top.
Naturally, this will be no use during the Severn Challenge; I reckon it's going to be a case of running (a word I use in its widest context) from one checkpoint to the next and letting the overall mileage take care of itself. Pass the elephant, I can eat a whole one!
In other dramatic news, I can finally reveal that I shall be running the Severn Challenge for SSAFA Forces Help. If you'd like to donate, there's a handy button over there on the right and another one at the bottom of the page; thank you kindly for your support!
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