Better Git It In Your Soul!

Thank you Charles Mingus for composing such a great piece of work.

I have recently taken up jogging. From my last blog on the subject I have been taking this thing rather seriously since I have a new toy to play with. Mainly my GPS blackberry thingummyjig. It tells me where I've gone, how fast (and sometimes how high) I've gone in my last run. With every run, my speed tends to get faster though it has never been the same journey twice.

I did attempt to make the same journey twice last night but after my little comment on Cuzzer's blog about getting lost whilst running, I seem to have been blessed with instant karma. Yes. I got lost. In Peckham. Again. Mainly due to the music I've been listening to on my mp3 player. Perhaps I need an upgrade to a bigger iPod. The music I tend to like is usually of the more soulful variety - Joni Mitchell, Ray LaMontagne, David Gray, Aimee Mann and such the like. Not ideal running partners as most of them are in a minor key or with quite an al dente bpm (having said that The Beat of Black Wings is a great running song, though Vietnam war anti-heroes talking about being a pawn in a war don't make for great enthusiasm!) 

However You Get What You Give (The New Radicals) is amazing. It does cause sudden bursts of euphoria while running which are great as suddenly I start running faster almost to sprint levels, bypassing shoppers with that 'what de bway gwan teft?' look.

I did have to raid my flatmate's cds for running music and the cds that I seem to be given for birthdays, Christmasses etc (that weren't on my wishlist). I must say, having given it a go for 3 listens Madonna's latest 'album' is rubbish. The writing is just so bad. If anyone ever wanted a reason for women over 45 to not do dance music, this album is it. Though her Anna Friel song is another euphoria-inducing track from 'Ray of Light'.

The only problem with tanzmuzik while running is that at traffic lights, I tend to dance. And running while doing 'big fish, little fish, cardboard box' is a sight to behold. Yeah, I went clubbing in the early 90's.

What I have enjoyed this week is the inclusion of Charles Mingus' 'Ah Um' album. Recorded in 1959 it's great music to run to. Firstly because it great jazz (or technically it's 'hard bop') but because it's so smokin' it does feel like you're in a film noir being chased by the cops. In Peckham, this is not hard to imagine. 

It also gave me the reason to get lost in Peckham. Again. So smokin' was the music that I missed the turn, or turned too early or something (looking at the map, I was one street too early. I really wanted my GPS to be working this time. After 'enjoying' Alan Curr's attack of the grumps last week about getting lost, instant karma certain made it's presence known. So this week I am bereft of my 'lost map' of my journey which would have made an amusing picture.

Hey ho.... as they say in Peckham. More later. Zooby Overandout.

Far Away From My Well Lit Door

Well, last week saw the new regime of training start for most people. I know that for me I was only doing the odd ab exercise or press-up to keep me in trim. It was a good week methinks. First of all it started for me New Years Eve when I went shopping to get some shoes. I came back with 4 pairs. A black smart pair (for formal occasions), a pair of simple walking shoes for everyday (I finally gave up my Rockports which were the most comfy shoes on Earth. For about the first 3 years!), my hiking shoes (beloved and be-expensive!) and a pair of a-hem.... running shoes.

I've never had a pair of running shoes in my life. I don't run. Well, when I do, I like to think that I run properly, without hurting my spine, shins or feet. Mainly because I run properly, through the feet, not just slapping them down on the pavement like I see so many runners do. Was it my years of running barefoot at school? Yeah, not that I always forgot my kit and had to run in vest and pants, but this was Malaysia in the 1970's/early 80's. We didn't bother with shoes unless we were playing football. Now I have an aversion to round things flying through the air towards me - I lasted 2 weeks training on the school cricket team waaaaaaaay back in 1986 - so team sport was/is never my thing. It's why I enjoy capoeira. No balls, no shoes, just a roda and a berimbau and a love of movement. And while it's played together, it's not a team sport. More one-on-one. Oh yeah. And it's meant to be played in the heat. I can't wait to go back to it.

But back to my running shoes. My first attempt at running (late last year, methinks) was first met with 'in those shoes?' from Brooksie. Hmmm... what's wrong with my Rockports? Ok, so they're a bit worn round the edges, but I love(d) them. Then I got a grilling from Chris 'Kiwi' The Kiwi New Zealander Palmer about my footwear. I have had easier footwear slangings from Gok Wan. But he was being very (and thoroughly) H&S about exercise, which was very good. Yeah, Chris is from New Zealand, if no one knew that before, you might not tell from his accent. But yes, early January saw me walking into work with my new Reeboks in my bag. Then having planned my route I ran from work to home. I didn't think I'd make it. But I did. This be the route:Perhaps I shouldn't have had my blackberry in my bag jiggling about as it does look like I was drunk and running through buildings. For a run, for my first real run of the year, of my life (I'm not really counting the one time I did running with the Everesters, that was more training, men. Training.) I knew I was playing it safe - the last two thirds of the run is down the Old Bent Toad which I knew the landmarks of so well. And it's also along my bus route, which was a JIC. (IC I keeled over with a coronary, that is). The landmarks were helpful, for my first run. Tescoise Corner wasn't the great relief that I thought it was going to be but I knew that it was over half way. Seeing the familiar green lights of Asdanistan was better. My second run of the year, the next Monday, I had a meeting in town at The Spotlight about my (hah) "career" which was better than I thought, and more helpful. I was going to run from town to Home but I'd forgotten my trakkie bottoms so I decided to go home first and run a different route that was the same length as my first just to see if I was a little faster.Nope I wasn't faster. I'd taken the wrong turning in Peckham somewhere and decided that possibly it wasn't the best place to get lost in. This time the GPS was in the front pocket. It looks like I'm much more sober, at least.

Along the run I got thinking, which is never a good thing for me to do. I began to think, 'ok, this is good for me, ok I'm getting healthier. But why sweet Lord, WHY?'. I remembered a car journey. I don't know how old I was. Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur. It was the Ford Cortina Ghia, I believe, so Adam might be able to narrow down the time. I'm thinking 1978-82 but that could've been the Chrysler as it was a brown interior and they both had brown interiors, I believe... anyway, it was a journey, much like any other in the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur, going via highways but it was a holiday somewhere... possibly Cameron Highlands or Fraser's Hill or somewhere like that. It was a holiday. We'd stopped in traffic and nothing was moving. I was looking out of the car and I was watching this red lorry turn off into a dirt road. Dirt road. Malaysia. It's bright orange, almost like a terracotta. Bright orange mud.

As the lorry was driving away I thought 'Where are they going? What do they do?' It was a lorry. Like any other lorry. It was a journey for them, like any other. Nothing special. I was perhaps around 8 or 9, but it was the first time I realised that the world didn't revolve around me, it didn't even revolve around my family. Here we are in our air-conditioned car while these people were on a muddy track going off to work or delivering something somewhere that was nothing to do with us, or the people immediately around us... I don't know if this was the start of a self-awareness or something profound like that, or maybe it was fairly normal for people to realise that this world, it sometimes isn't about you. I like to think that I'm on this trip because it isn't about me, it's about the photos, it's about the Sherpa, it's about the people we're trying to help, it's about playing in the team. Which is what we did on Thursday and Saturday at Battersea Park. Much more what we're about. Not really competitive but simply encouraging. In just under three months from now, up until the game, that's what we're going to be doing. Getting up that mountain. Together. As a team. Not competitive -

encouraging.

Happy New Year Everybody!!!!!

Let's have a good one!

Much love


Zooby

It's Coming On Christmas, They're Cutting Down Trees

I'm so hard to handle
I'm selfish and I'm sad
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had
I wish I had a river I could skate away on

Oh, I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby say goodbye

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river I could skate away on


(excerpt from 'River') Copyright © 1970; Joni Mitchell
Painting is called 'Skaters' also by Joni Mitchell 1994

I just thought I'd send out that rather reflective Joni Mitchell song on this blog ("I make really sad Christmas songs"). I've been trying to learn how to play it on the piano for ages and I can just about do the simple chords. I feel as if I haven't openly quoted Joni enough in these blogs. She is a songwriting genius. Frank, beautiful, a voice that can shatter a heartache and also a painter. I am attracted to people who aren't afraid to take risks with their art, their feelings at the risk of their popularity. What's important to them is the truth.

Anyway, it was at the works Christmas party on Friday when Lee Paddock (whose job title has 'Chief' in it. I've always liked that word, especially when used by streetkids for some reason) asked me to name 3 good things this year and 1 bad thing that has happened to me this year.

Christmas is often the time for reflection over the past year and on the moments spur, over our Thai Christmas Meal (a Metrosafety tradition it seems) I came up with these:

(I would like, all ye you read this, to quickly whack me off a response along the same lines, and you don't have to be as verbose as I have been.)

Three Good Things
1) I became an Exhibited Artist - something that in all my days I have never thought I'd have the guts to do.

2) My blind spot which was diagnosed earlier this year (bottom left corner), is actually due to scarring from the AVM bleed 24 years ago, and not an indication of anything that is about to happen. That was confirmed by in April. By the end of April, I joined The Everest Test as a Trektator.

3) I have met an incredible bunch of people who, over the past year, through some quite testing moments, I am really proud to call my friends. Hopefully friendships that will go beyond April (David Thomson, who sat opposite, said, "Yes, I can see that, and I'm quite jealous of that aspect of it, I'd really like to go up with you, if only just for that. You're very lucky."

One Bad
1) I have realised I've wasted an incredible amount of time procrastinating, that I can actually do things that aren't within my means. Not just this year, but I realised it this year and I've begun to take a deep breath and leap. I regret not doing things. It's worse than regretting the things I've done. I wouldn't change a thing that I have. Well, almost. It's taken me 36 years to learn that.

Anything is possible, you just have to allow yourself to make it happen.


Merry Christmas everybody. I hope you have a great one.

Waterloo Sunset

If you travel via Waterloo frequently, using the travelators, one thing I like doing while walking on a travelator is looking down at the moving walkway ahead of me. Do this for about 15 seconds (don't worry the travelator at Waterloo Station between the Jubilee Line and Northern Lines takes a good 1 min 30 secs, so you won't find you've run out of travelator). After that 15 seconds of looking down, quickly look up at the rest of the tunnel ahead. Because of some strange 'eye thing' the whole tunnel seems to be moving away from you in some freak 'trick of the eye' fashion. Please note, the travelator has to be fairly empty, so this is an 'off-peak' activity.

I used to like walking up to escalators and grabbing on. The lurch you get when something suddenly takes you somewhere is exhilarating and you have to run faster to catch up. Like joining friends unexpectedly in the night and suddenly going on adventures to the other side of town, or Brighton/Glasgow, someone's rooftop. This small lurch of 'escalator fun' was always kinda fun, a little bit of joy while traveling - escalating - or even travelating - for that matter. Ok, yes, it's only an escalator, I was going in that direction anyway... but I think it's important to have a little bit of internal joy while doing mundane things. Some people read while traveling, some people listen to their Walkmen (pl. of Walkman?). I prefer that internal dialogue. It's good to be peripatetic. I'm glad I like it as under 4 months we'll be doing a lot of it for 18 days.

At the moment I've realised that I seem to be faster than the speed of escalators when I walk, faster than I used to. Perhaps it's just Christmas and the need to get things done is fairly time-sensitive, so there's no chance to dawdle. Perhaps since I've stepped on board The Everest Test 2009 Train Boarding for Nepal I've just become more focused, a little more intolerant of time-wasters. When I joined up for this attempt, my first response was like joining an escalator that was traveling at 100 miles an hour and I took a deep breath and leapt into that traffic. I think that this event, this attempt, this 'thing' has taken over my life. The people who I mention it to are really in awe that I've even considered doing this, let alone actually doing it! I dunno. Perhaps I'm living my life a bit more, rather than just be a passenger on the travelator of someone else's. I can't believe I'm paraphrasing my own poem there. Maybe that's what poetry notebooks are for.

I've learnt a couple of things about myself recently.... More on that once I've had my peripatetic on it. I've learnt a couple of new words as well. Some thanks to Word Of The Day. Some not. "Snoodling" being one of them (thank you Chris Martin).

"Peripatetic" being the other.

Definition 1: On foot, walking from place to place.

Usage 1: This word stays the same in both adjective and noun forms.
Also, peripatetics are journeys on foot.

Definition 2: Relating to the methods and thought of Aristotle, who
conducted discussions while walking.

Usage 2: The word gains a capital when you're talking about philosophy.
A peripatetic is someone who rambles on foot; a Peripatetic is an
adherent of Aristotle.

I don't think I can give you a definition of snoodling. Muslim upbringing. Nuff said.

Anyway, I'm sure I promised a photo album from the London Freeze which happened about 2 weekends ago. That is to come. I promise.

Traveling for some people is just a means to get to the destination. For us Trektators, it is the journey that matters most. It promises to be filled with lots of little pockets of joy and wonderment. What we pick up along the way, what we learn, the experience on the journey. 'Journey' has it's etymology in the French for 'day' - Ours will be 12 days up to watch some people play cricket on Everest and perhaps take some photos and a couple of days down again. I'm anticipating lots of learning on this journey and, after our little Trektator dinner on Wednesday, lots of fun.

Meanwhile I'll be having a few rambles once the Xmas sales are on and I can buy my trekking shoes from Blacks. I've been highly recommended a brand called 'Rutger Hauer' or 'Bauhaus'.


Or something like that.

Movies of Myself.

I guess I thought I'd make a little video of what I've been doing (or not doing) to raise dosh for charity and awareness for prostate cancer.

FAQ's answered:
Yes, I do shave that quickly.

No, it doesn't hurt.

An evening.

A month.

15 months between us.

We used to work together.

Cumin seeds, coriander seeds, star anise, mustard seeds, heated in a pan, add oil, fry the onions until softened, add the curry powder made into a paste, fry until the oil rises, add the chicken pieces, add the potatoes. Add water. Cook until potatoes as cooked. Add coconut milk. Add green beans. Then cook for another 5 mins. Leave for 15 off the heat. Serve with rice.

36. (I know. Comes from being semi-Asian)

It's going to drop off.

April 2009.

Not on Everest, at Gorak Shep near the Base Camp to Mt Everest.

My Dad is from Malaysia, my Mum is from South London.

When I was 16.

An actor.

A painter.

It's been mainly theatre and voice-overs, though I did do an advert for Maltesers when they sponsored Will & Grace (check my facebook vids). And I was a Palace Guard in 'The Phantom Menace' and 5 episodes of Grange Hill in 2000 playing the older, racist brother to a regular character.

Portraits and abstracts.

P!ssflaps.

Pass. We don't talk about that in open fora.

Pass. Now, you're flirting. Cheeky but that's not for here either. Off the record it's absinthe.

Pass.

Can I end this now? I have a knish and Christmas shopping that needs attending to.


-------------------

Amazing weekend just passed. More of that later when I've learned how to picasa everything.... until then enjoy your week!

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Well, after the seriousness of the last blog, I thought I'd add some levity to the proceedings. I'll try and not be sesquepedalian while I'm writing, though I do like to, after becoming a huge fan of 'Word of the Day' emails from YourDictionary.com. But I digress.

Now that I haven't tergiversated (damn! I'm not usually given to sesquepedality but I've done it AGAIN!) I've started training again with the guys and gals of Hillary, Tenzing and the Trektators, though finding the time to get there is often frustrating as many nights are taken up with finishing (and starting) commissions. Neil and Tom ('The Sharlands' as they are known on email messages) continue to push us (me) to our (my) limit. I was meant to be going to Chris 'Kiwi' Palmer's run around Battersea Park this evening but work kept me late and it would've been silly to try and catch up with them. (Silly for me that is, not so silly for the people who attempted Mudman this weekend. Check out Glen Lowis' blog for a good (tough) read).

It has recently turned cold so I am enjoying my assassins gloves that were a Christmas present last year. Not only do they look really cool and like I'm about to commit some sort of 'Murder She Wrote' crime passionel, but they also provide me with entertainment while traveling: -

Yes, part of my recent pleasure with the sudden cold weather is secreting my Oystercard in the palm of my assassins gloves so when I pass through the barriers I just seemingly touch the yellow circle with my hand and the barriers magically open, thus making me cyborg, like Seven of 9. Or a Padwan Jedi.

The fundraising continues, should anyone want to donate to my justgiving page for this crazy trip, you've just gone past the link. It was back there. Stop, don't read any further, it was back there. About 2 and a half lines above this....

People have donated to my Everest MoVember page on the ubiquitous (stop it Zooby) facebook and just this month alone, I've raised 12% of my Everest target just for growing a moustache and raising awareness for Prostate Cancer.

While it's the run up to Christmas, the lists of equipment that we may need up that mountain has been sent to our parents and we're sitting under the Christmas tree like expectant Ewoks waiting for a windfall. I'm borrowing friends' items as they have been before. (I declined the insulated pants, thanks Monkeyboy, I'll get my own from Millets, thanks, no, I insist, I'm sure I'll be fine. No, really... )

Meanwhile, I realise that home news is conspicuously missing but it's fine, Mum is up and about, back at work (I'm a little concerned that the hospital discharged her without her indicators being checked properly - so really there could be things going on that we don't know about) and is the backbone of the retirement home where she works. Dad has been given his date for his op at the end of Jan so by the middle of March, he should be up and about again. Insh'Allah. As they say.
\
The Mo - Day 1 thru to 17

Meanwhile tempus fugit. April is under 5 months away. We're going up to Base Camp on Mt. Everest. Let's get Christmas out of the way first, shall we? One day at a time.