Jevon's Blog

We Need To Talk About Kevin

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 18:03:00 +0000

The weekend’s Premier League games saw yet more controversy. Diving players, racist taunts, pitch invasions and a bloodied Rio Ferdinand reeling from a missile impact which, had it landed a centimetre below the eyebrow it struck, could well have blinded him. Yet this type of behaviour is nothing new. Fully four years before the birth of Ferdinand, on 24^th August 1974, at the rear of Blackpool Football Club’s Spion Kop, a young man named Kevin Olsson was stabbed in the stomach during an altercation with rival fans. As the seventeen year old lay bleeding on the stepped terraces amongst the discarded pie wrappers, glowing cigarette butts and freshly expelled urine, he might briefly have wondered what would become of the game that he followed.

Kevin, you were the first person to be murdered inside a British football ground. And I’m sorry to have to report that, along with you, football died that day in 1974.

Since that time, our national game has flattered to deceive with successive makeovers designed to make it more palatable and appealing to successive generations. Yet the game has been so full of short-term greed and lacking in long-term visionaries that it has consistently failed to right its wrongs. As a leopard never changes its spots, this animal will always revert to its natural state – a wild and ugly beast that symbolises all that is wrong in our spoiled and petulant society. A game riddled with racism amongst many of its supporters, a preternatural propensity to cheat amongst its players and a singular lack of respect for authority from significant sections of the baying masses that gather to participate and support at almost every level of its existence.

Disasters of every type have come and gone since Kevin Olsson’s death. At Hillsborough and Bradford, hundreds perished in terrible tragedies at substandard stadia where supporters were treated like cattle. The Taylor Report that followed revolutionised ground safety with fans ensconced in all-seater comfort within brand new hospitality-suited pleasure domes. For a short while, it seemed as if progress was being made.

An Australian media mogul named Rupert decided football was the sport on which he would build his television empire and with that decision came an injection of previously undreamed of wealth. Soon, clubs were fighting for their share of the millions in a spectacular and unseemly display of greed. The Football League was fragmented, with the FA Premier League formed to house the elite. Football once again demonstrated an all too familiar ability to reflect the society it serves to entertain. The rich would get richer, the poor could take their chances.

Murdoch’s millions inflated player salaries to ludicrous levels, with clubs living wildly beyond their means. In the past twenty years, the average national UK wage has risen by 186%. The average wage of a UK footballer has risen by over 1,500%. Top players earn more than £1 million per month and the wage bill alone of several clubs outstrips their total turnover. Yet this profligacy and excess, this mercenary milking of a club’s resources has become the norm. “Who can blame him”, are the words most often heard when yet another player jumps ship to secure a further ten grand a month on an already unimaginable salary. And that is symptomatic of the problem. There is no blame in football, simply a resigned shrug and a bow to what is perceived as market forces. The last time we had such a collective bout of sticking our heads in the sand to avoid confronting such a problem, the banks crashed around us and the repercussions swept around the world like a giant tsunami. Whilst the demise of football as we know it will never be as cataclysmic, it will surely come unless we acknowledge that some form of root and branch review of the way the game conducts itself is required.

The sport has become a plaything of the rich and famous, stripping once local clubs of their identities as more and more overpaid outsiders (from within and without the UK) are parachuted in to clubs - clubs that once relied on talent scouted from within thirty miles of their grounds – to chase yet more financial rewards in the form of European competition. The end result has been to leave many of those who follow their team to fashion a revised identity through a reversion to obscene chanting, racist gestures and random, missile-throwing, violence.

For, if it is about nothing else, football is about identity. It is a raw, tribal force – a gathering of young men to prove their virility and manhood. It is about geography, a kind of sawn-off nationalism that demands respect for, and defence of, one’s ‘turf’ - both on and off the field of play. That’s all well and good in modern times as long as that with it comes an understanding of the role of our own and other communities within a broader society. But, as a moral beacon to those following, football’s light is barely a flickering Swan Vesta. The financial stakes have relentlessly increased and the rewards have become too great for those participating to ignore. Cheating has become the norm. Cheating off the pitch by way of running companies based almost entirely on debt or the ‘false’ income of sugar daddy owners. Cheating on the pitch by way of diving, referee abuse, feigning injury, the wagging of imaginary cards and all manner of other, so called ‘professional’ actions. How surprised should we be then, that many fans, like children spoiled by indulgent parents with no sense of fiscal value, have become recalcitrant and unpleasant, unable to contain the bile and vitriol that comfy seating and stainless steel pie ovens have carefully plastered over for the past two decades.

Behind the family friendly façade of Sunday afternoon kick-offs and worldwide television audiences lies a world of avarice, fiscal irresponsibility and a lack of respect and authority. The lunatics, on and off the pitch, are firmly in charge of the asylum. The good and decent majority are, once again, silent.

I suspect, if Kevin Olsson were alive today and had been able to see the blood flowing down Rio Ferdinand’s face, he might have opined that the game that exists as we go into 2013 is, despite its shiny packaging, in many ways more cynical, more unpleasant and more deeply rooted in the unedifying values of greed, desperation and a desire to win at all costs than the one he so tragically left behind on the concrete of the Blackpool kop on that warm and balmy August day in 1974.

Slowly... slowly...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 19:20:00 +0000

... catch your monkey.

Jeez, I hate that saying. But it kind of sums up my attitude towards training at the moment. I've begun to cycle again, having let my weight get up to 97 kgs at the beginning of the year.

So far - since January 4th - I've covered 487 miles on the bike and I'm beginning to feel the strength return to my legs. I'm not too worried about speed at the moment, there's plenty of time for that - so as the boys at the tri club do the usual thing of tearing it up in January, this year I shall sit back and do my own thing. I've already dropped quite a bit of weight, probably down to around 93kgs and there'll be plenty more to come off.

My left achilles has been giving me problems so I've - once again - had to curtail my running. I seem fated not to run again but I'm sure I will, one day.

The girls are back at school, the afternoons are beginning to show signs of lightening up and I shall resume on the booze when I go up to see England play Scotland at Murrayfield.

Much to look forward to -- including a trip to see the David Hockney exhibition at the Royal Academy. Tickets are selling like hot cakes and we've bagged some for February. Can't wait. I'm a huge Hockney fan -- dig around his work, it's hugely influential and contains so much variety and experimentation.

Above is one I'd like to share with you... it's called 'White Lines Dancing in Printing Ink'...

Toodle pip...

Malaise

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 08:21:00 +0000

Over time, I've come to know my weaknesses. In life, rather like sporting events, I'm not a fast starter. Hence a return from a prolonged period of holiday or rest results in an uncomfortable feeling of confusion at resentment at having, once again, to start work.

All of which is strange as I love my work. But I guess that's not to say that it doesn't come with exactly the same pressures as work does to someone who doesn't love what they do. Possibly more so as the knowledge of what one 'wants to do' hangs heavy around one's shoulders. No matter how successful I become in terms of relative happiness or ticking boxes against early life's goals I always seem to manage to want more, to never be fully satisfied.

Maybe that's a good thing. I guess it keeps me hungry. So I've promised myself just one thing this year. No more wasted days. Whatever happens I will never, ever, waste a day. Something will be achieved that I have set out to do that day. Too often it's been too easy to coast. And I think that might be the issue. Instead of actually setting new challenges, I've coasted or drifted into a situation where many older goals have been achieved, yet new targets haven't been clearly defined.

Re visiting my blog today has helped, if only in some small way to make me become more accountable to myself. I need to be able to look myself in the mirror, not only after a race but after every day of the race of life. For whatever reasons I've not been doing that recently. Time to change. Time to shape up.

And the photo? It's an artwork I bought recently. Postcard sized by an artist named Alexandra McLain. I keep it on my desk. I like it and wanted to share it.

Wherever you are -- a happy and prosperous new year to you. May your life be filled with happiness and the goals you set yourself be tough but attainable.

Peace and love.

Things to do...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 09:08:00 +0000

There are several things I want to do before xmas

1. Teach my daughters to play chess.
2. Complete another screenplay.
3. Begin to run again without injury.
4. Hang my recently purchased artworks at home.
5. Go to the movies (at least once) with my wife.
6. Take on a new client at work.
7. Spend less time on the internet.
8. Visit my brother in Amsterdam.
9. Re-commence swimming sessions.
10. Drink a little less booze.
11. Eat a little less dairy.
12. Keep my weight below 14st 7lb (92.3kg)
13. Walk in the countryside once a week with my wife.
14. Get an eye test.
15. Improve my posture.
16. Strum the guitar more.
17. Plan some goals for next year.

There will be more. But these will do for the time being.

Super 8

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Wed, 10 Aug 2011 07:43:00 +0000

I've not used the blog for film reviews but there's always a first time. I went to see the new JJ Abrams movie, SUPER 8, last night. My review? Well, in a pithy one liner, I'd say it's more Standard 8 than Super 8. That, of course, is an in joke for those of you who might have made your own films as a teenager before the advent of video.

In truth, the movie was okay but it rarely raised itself higher than the sum of its parts. It borrowed shamelessly from eighties classics like THE GOONIES, ET and even STAND BY ME. Stephen King's IT was referenced too. The resultant story was entirely formulaic and the film makers seemed to give up on the nice conceit of the movie within a movie (the kids that form the centre of the story are making their own movie) and resort to explosions and tired cliche's of the town being evacuated, explosions and, naturally, the happy Hollywood ending.

The one thing I did take from SUPER 8 though, and what has stayed with me to this morning, was that it rekindled in me the fires that burned so brightly as a youngster when I first picked up my dad's wind up cine camera and began to make my own movies. The freedom to experiment, the love of working with your friends, the blissful ignorance of 'rules' governing story and style allowing a totally individual approach to expressing yourself through angles and shot making. This is the cinema and movie making that I yearned to be a part of and wanted so much to make my career.

I've been lucky (and determined, I guess) that I've managed to do that. But the freedom of those days has long gone and SUPER 8 reminded me that it's still out there. Why is it that those of us with experience seem unable to tap into it so freely as those without?

Well, from now on... I'm going to think freely and cease to worry about rules and industry expectations.

Let's see what happens.

Mission Accomplished...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 14:31:00 +0000

So... the plan was to get to the start line and I managed that just fine. How would the race go? Well, let's backtrack a bit. Aleck (my buddy from Team MK) and myself shared driving duties on the wednesday on a journey which took us under the channel, across Europe and down to Nuremberg in Germany. We met our other Team MK mates and supporters and were soon on the lash in a Bier Keller, drinking litres of strong lager.

Perfect Ironman preparation. Whilst Roth was a good race - we'll come to this later - the town itself isn't the best place to hold one of the world's largest triathlons. Organisationally it was all a bit demanding, with the swim some 15km and T2 about 1km from the finish. Add to this that there is only one hotel in the entire town and the whole thing adds up to an event which, in my opinion, has far outgrown its origins.

Anyway, I had the car so that made it easier than for most.

As for the race itself, having achieved my goal of starting I wanted to finish. That may sound strange and what I mean by it is this; all my efforts had been focussed on getting to the start line. Once there, I realised that the one thing that would nail me was the run, specifically getting there too tired or pushing too fast whilst on the run. Either of these could cause the achilles to give up on me and I very much didn't want that to happen. So my plan was to keep a lid on proceedings throughout the day.

The swim start was in waves, with me off in wave number two of the age groupers. In front of me were the Pros, the women and the elite age groupers, plus the faster wave. My previous IM swims had been 63, 63 and 60 mins (not counting Switzerland last year where I swam from the back as a training swim). I figured that with the reduced mileage this year and also with not wanting to push too much and over rotate my back my swim time would be around 65 minutes. Guess what... my swim time was 65 minutes.

I took longer than usual in transition to stretch the back and achilles, met up with Aleck who was in the swim wave before me, and headed out onto the bike course.

Roth is a fast course... no two ways about it. But you have to ride what's in front of you. You have to have a plan otherwise you'll crash and burn. Witness the fact that two of our fastest cyclists posted their most disappointing IM times. My cycling times on IM courses had come down over consecutive years with my fastest currently sitting at 5 hours 20 mins for the 112 miles, requiring an average speed of 21 mph. I'd been cycling well this year so my plan was to sit at a 21mph and see how I felt.

In the end, I felt good. The course is rolling and my size allowed me to pick up speed on the downhills and use it to power up the inclines. I tried to keep my power output constant and to ride at a higher cadence than I had been doing a year or so ago. I saw Aleck pass me and followed him for a long time but in the end let him pull away.

My first lap was done at just over 22mph average speed but I eased back on the second lap and ended with a bike split of 5 hrs and 6 minutes, at an average speed of 21.8 mph. More importantly I felt good. I'd got my nutrition right, constantly slurping from my aero bottle and eating reasonably well all the way round.

Time to run.

Having only been back running for the last three months after over a year of inactivity, I knew that the hardest part would be slowing myself down at the beginning enough to be in reasonable enough condition to get through the race. I set out to run 9 minute miles which would have given me a sub 4 hour marathon. By halfway, I was just drifting out on that time and decided to walk for a couple of minutes and slug back some coca cola. My heart rate came down and so did my temperature and I was able to kick on again. Fuelled by coke throughout the last 21km, I managed to keep a reasonably even pace to complete the marathon in 4 hrs 7 mins... not by any means a fast pace but, given that at one stage in the months previously I'd doubted whether I'd ever run again, one I was happy to embrace.

I crossed the line in 10 hrs 29 minutes and 56 seconds, which is another PB and I'm also I'm a newly minted member of the sub 10:30 club.

The injuries felt fine. My back has behaved itself - testament I think to all the rehab done since my slipped disc in October - and my achilles never felt like it would be tested to destruction. Yes, it's sore and tender, but it's resting now and it thanked me for putting it through another Ironman (I may be lying about that last bit).

So, that's it. Injuries don't have to mean the end of athletic careers. Don't listen to the naysayers and doom merchants. Focus on what you can achieve and what you need to do to get better.

Anything is possible.

Let's Get Ready to Rumble...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 07:35:00 +0000

Usually, my focus is all about finishing a race. But the past eighteen months has been very different. Everything has been with the express intention of making the start line on another Ironman Triathlon. And here I am, barring last minute acts of God, about to fulfil that promise to myself by starting Europe's greatest irondistance triathlon - Challenge Roth - on Sunday morning.

There have been tough times, no doubt. I couldn't run for over a year and my slipped disc saw me in excruciating pain for a couple of months, barely able to move at all. But, as ever when faced with adversity, I simply set my focus on some seemingly impossible targets and resolutely refuse to buckle in my desire to achieve them.

This time the target was to start another Ironman within six months of my spinal surgery (injection). So, the race itself will be icing on the cake.

It was touch and go for a while whether my achilles would recover in time to take part in the run but I'm at the stage now where I'm confident of getting out onto the marathon course. From that point I'm in the lap of the gods. It will either go well or badly. But then that's always the case in an Ironman. My great fear is that the achilles could simply flare up which would make running impossible - but the worse that can happen would be that I'd have to stop.

As a result of my focus on simply starting the race I've been a lot more relaxed in my training. In a nutshell I've done far less swimming and am happy to accept a slower swim time if that's the result. The constant rotating in the water was irritating my back and I think was a factor in the disc problems I had. Running has been practically non existent until the last couple of months which, whilst saving me much wear and tear on my battered knees and achilles, has, of course, made me less confident of speed around the marathon course. Bike has been good. I'm stronger than ever before and I'm hoping for a decent time. But I'm going to hold back and save something for the run. The last thing I want to be is going out for a 26 mile run with my legs and lungs mashed.

So, let's see. What will be will be. To finish will be an epic achievement in terms of demonstrating that recovery from injuries is possible. One thing's for sure... with this attitude of making the start the main focus, I've never been looking forward as much to a 'race'.

You can follow my progress on the Challenge Roth Website. In a red band, just below the main photo, you'll see several categories of drop down menu. One of them is ATHLETE TRACKER. Click on this and put in my starter number of 1169 (they've messed up my surname).

Send me positive thoughts. Everything helps.

cheers my lovely people...

Mental, Mental, chicken oriental...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 17:41:00 +0000

I've been trying to train slow. Specifically; to run slow. And it's not easy.

My best ever IM marathon is 3:57 and it was achieved by rigorous discipline. Started slow and kept the pace under wraps until the final 10k where I wound it up just a little.

On my run today (11.2 miles) I set out aiming to run at 8:50 pace which represents a marathon time of around 3:52... not so hot a a standalone but pretty good after swimming and cycling for over six hours. I managed to do it at an average pace of 8:35 min/mile. It made me remember just how important the mental discipline in an Ironman is... and how, as athletes, we overlook it. Too often we train flat out with scant regard to the pacing required on the day. When the day comes we are unable to regulate our power output in any meaningful way and our reserves are spent. It's easy to recover from this after the swim, fairly tough during or after the bike but, when you're trying to run a marathon on zero reserves, if you start off too fast you're finished. You have no chance.

So staying on top of my pace in the run is something I'll be turning my mind to for the next five weeks.

Good luck to all my friends doing their training runs at 7 minute miles.

Laters

An Ironman update...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 27 May 2011 07:40:00 +0000

I suspect the trick of blogging may be - from this point on - to keep it brief.

Halleluja, I hear you mutter.

Well, not so brief as to let you go after just three sentences.

You'll be familiar with my annus horribilis. A chronic achilles injury that prevented me running for over a year. Back surgery on a slipped/herniated disc and further surgery just over a month ago. So, all in all, for most folk, a fairly debilitating time.

So, naturally, I'm aiming to complete another Ironman in July.

I don't want to sound glib about this - there's a lot more to it than simply rocking up and risking my health - I'd never do that. But I've seen great progress with my achilles over the past few months, especially after using prescription orthotics, and am now up to running 15 miles. I'm also able to 'push' with my running, running 10k at sub 7 minute miles average pace... so I'm fairly confident that I'll be able to at least embark on the IM marathon without too much trouble. How I'll go when I get into the red zone in terms of distance and leg stress... we'll have to see.

My back is not at all bad. That's to say it's not healed and I'm still aware of it but I've done a huge amount of core work and have changed many aspects of my life to accommodate its rehabilitation. From how I sit, to how I run and walk, to what I eat, a daily exercise regime, a relevant vitamin intake... all these things have contributed to my being able to function pretty much as normal.

I've eased back from the swimming to protect my back but have still managed around 55km so far in May.

The bike has been going well. I've been getting stronger every year and this year is no exception. As ever, I started out on my heavy winter bike and only moved up to the faster carbon machines in April. I'm concentrating now in trying to 'dial in' to the position on my TT bike to enable my back to get used to being bent over for 112 miles whilst my legs are delivering power.

I've even treated myself to a new pair of Giro cycling shoes. After being a cyclist for four years, I figure I'm now decent enough to justify them. They are extremely beautiful, unlike me.

I have also shaved my legs. Fiona is horrified. Erin and Alice are mystified.

But I'm happy and hell, shaving your legs doesn't hurt anyone.

The surgery I went through in April was for hemorrhoids and I refuse to get all embarrassed about stuff like that. If we're to have a sensible approach to men's health in this country then issues of internal bleeding need to be looked at and addressed. We wouldn't think twice if we were bleeding from our ears or our throats about getting these things checked out. So why is it different from our bottoms? I guess because we're still living with our Victorian legacy of finding 'toilet' humour funny and slightly embarrassing. Anyway, I was fortunate. It wasn't cancer, though it could well have been. The problem has been fixed and, let me tell you, it was bloody painful. The surgeon's advice was to begin cycling after three weeks.

So I was back on a bike within 48 hours.

Why? Because it's called Ironman. Not Sitonthesofaman.

Onwards now to Challenge Roth in Germany on July 10th.

Other news soon.

S'good to be back with you.

When is a blog not a blog...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 08:15:00 +0000

I've been guilty of leaving my blog to rot, like some pile of festering manure in the back garden. Words from previous posts seem to alphabetically biodegrade, so their meaning is diluted and changed with time. When I look at them now, they are not what they once were.

And that's the same for all of us as we march through our lives. No different for me. We aren't what we were and it's kind of tricky to live in the past and expect your body to perform up to previous expectations. I'm a great believer that one of the 'tricks' of a successful life (define success however you wish, though not monetarily) is to never stop re-assessing and, if necessary, re-inventing yourself.

In marriage, Fiona and I have changed from the eighteen year olds who fell in love. We are different people and, like anything joined together, one needs to work in tandem with the other to maintain cohesion and attraction. With children too, with business and with sport. We must re-focus, look at where we are, who we are, and never be afraid to re-assess and re-set our goals and day to day routine. That way, I think, we stay fresh, happy and, most importantly, challenged.

The above sounds like a 'Thought for the day' but it isn't meant to. I think it's born out of the fact that, emerging from a horrific year of injuries, I have begun to see that I'm not the athlete that began this Ironman journey. Gung-ho training has taken its toll and, more specifically, an inability to rest has not allowed my body to heal when it needs to. But I've taken the time to analyse my shortcomings and, now that the injuries are showing signs of healing, I'm able to apply what I've learned to my training.

So, what of the injuries? The back is going well. I'm able to swim and cycle with (current) impunity although I will forever need a regime of daily back strengthening and stretching exercises. I'm riding two long bikes a week of 60/70 miles at the moment plus shorter efforts of 20/30 miles in between.

Swimming was one thing that - in hindsight - I think really aggravated my back for minimal return. All that twisting around the core was, I believe, the poor technique of someone who came late to swimming but didn't truly know how to swim. So, whereas previously I would do MORE swimming to rectify this problem, now I'm planning on doing less. So what if my swim time drops a little... I'll be in much better shape to peform further down the event, through the bike and run. A 60 minute IM swim can become a 65 minute swim but my back will be stronger and, as I learned at Ironman Germany, you can't run a marathon when your spine is about to give way.

But running... ah, running. That elusive goal. Whilst my back has really improved, my achilles tendon has remained an obstinate, obdurate enemy. Running has been all but impossible, but finally I'm hoping that it's light I'm seeing at the end of this particular tunnel, rather than the distant rays of another false dawn. I've seen countless physios and specialists who have tried to help but to no avail. Currently I'm seeing Boothy, a mate of mine and sports injury osteopath (and our main coach at Team MK) who has had similar injury issues to me in the past. We're working on building up my arches to support my feet in what appears to be quite a complicated strike pattern when I walk and run. I'd be lying if I didn't say there was some slight improvement. But it's been so long that I can't tell any more for sure.

I am, though, an optimist. Hope springs eternal in my breast.

Not only am I back training but I'm back blogging.

I think that's a good sign.

Happiness and karma to you all.

May your shadows never grow less.

May the skin on your backsides never line a banjo.

Revolting Students...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 08:59:00 +0000

Okay.

For the first time since starting this blog I feel prompted to write on something non sporting. You may find it slightly controversial. If so, please know that I don't court controversy, nor do I want to engage in a argument with you. These are my opinions and I'm fed up of keeping them to myself.

I see thousands of foul-mouthed, hoodied 'students' defacing statues of Winston Churchill, smashing the windows of our democratic institutions and climbing willy-nilly over memorials to our war dead.

For Chrissakes... what the hell is going on here.

I'll tell you what's going on. We've gone soft. Successive governments and generations of parents have turned this once great country into a pampering, one size fits all, everyone is a winner nation of layabouts and good for nothings who expect the world delivered to them on a plate.

And we're all to blame. As parents we abdicate responsibility to schools. We eschew discipline, allowing our children freedoms and 'rights' that they're not equipped to deal with. It's made us lazy and complacent. So lazy and complacent in fact that we've become part of the 'X Factor' generation, where success is dished out and not earned. This carries over not only to the world of work but education.

Are we really saying that, by the standards of past generations, so many of our children are equipped to attend a university? Nonsense. Of course not. Yes, I grant you, they are equipped to attend those establishments now known as universities. But real universities, for extremely intelligent young adults? I don't think so.

So why are there so many 'universities' and why are so many of our children shovelled through an education system by awarding them undeserved and worthless exam grades now so meaningless that, seemingly, a new 'top' grade needs to be invented every couple of years. I'll tell you why... because there are no jobs for these kids to leave school for and successive governments (this is an apolitical rant) have avoided grasping the nettle of realising that many trades need to be learned at the proverbial coal face rather than in the classroom. Could it possibly be that hundreds of thousands of school leavers are also kept off the dole queues if they attend further education, enabling them to be classed as adults when they leave and therefore not reflecting so badly on a continually failing education system.

Further education is not a 'must have' for all. A 'right' yes, but not a 'must have'.

As long as we enable our kids to believe that they're all suited to universities, then they'll all want to go. Why wouldn't they?

Listen up and listen good. Universities are for bright kids. They are not a three year holiday.

Also, if someone goes to university in a system that allows everyone to go then it's going to cost. Pure and simple. In the past, when numbers were limited, it was free... the state could afford it. Now they can't. So whoever goes will pay. Get used to it. We pay for pretty much everything in life and, after all, education is free until the age of sixteen. Students should thank their lucky stars they don't have to pay in advance or at the point of receiving 'the goods'. Can you imagine walking into The Savoy, demanding a suite and meal in the restaurant and not having to pay for it for several years, and only then when you earned a good enough wage to be able to afford it.

Some home truths to the protesters:

1. Marchers have the right to march. Police have the right to police. Don't be surprised if you get 'kettled' when you join up with a bunch of thugs.

2. If the thugs are a minority then you've failed in organising your march. We expect better of students.

3. If you're sixteen or under: Tough. You either shouldn't be there or you didn't figure out the risks. I don't want to hear your bleating about being on Westminster Bridge for eight hours. Unlucky.

4. You achieve nothing by violence. You undermine your cause. The nation looks at you and loses all sympathy.

5. You are not French students and never will be. At least they do a proper job of demonstration and have a track record of quality work at the barricades.

6. The statues of the people your thugs defaced are in memory of greater men and women than they will ever be.

7. This country owes you nothing yet. You owe it and your parents everything. Start delivering as a generation and we may consider funding for your ongoing education in a more benevolent light.

8. Say 'please' and 'thank you' a bit more.

9. Forget the lottery. Forget 'X Factor'. Work hard and life will deliver. Don't and it won't.

10. University will cost you money. If you're bright enough to go to university you must be bright enough to figure out if it will be of benefit. Do the math and make a decision. If you can't figure it out you shouldn't be at university.

Peace, love and kisses to you all, politicians and students alike.

Honourable discharge...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 09:12:00 +0000

Visited Mr Kitson, my spinal surgeon yesterday. He's delighted with the progress I've made and, effectively, has discharged me. "I'm here if you need me," were his parting words. I hope to bejaysus that I never do... I tell you, that is one part of my life I never want to re-visit. Oscar Wilde once opined that (and I paraphrase) we should try everything once, 'except incest and morris dancing'. Well, I'd like to add herniated discs to that list.

Truth be told, I've engaged in rehab like never before. This is a make or break time for me. I'm 48 years old and was closing down on becoming a sub 10 hour Ironman. Some might think I've pushed my body too far. My thoughts are that the engine is fine, but the mechanics needed a lot of tweaking. A couple of the wheels have come off. I need to spend a while getting those mechanics right and then - and only then - can we see what the future holds.

In the meantime, I continue my back rehab exercises and begin my second battle against the achilles. I'm now addressing some key mechanical issues which have developed over the years since my rugby injuries, particularly the weak glutes and collapsing knee on the right side of my body (coincidentally the same side as the disc herniation and the achilles tendon problem). It's too early to say what the results will be but, once again, it will be a long, long struggle.

But I'm good at those.

In the meantime I must keep my weight down and my spirits up. I'm kind of enjoying being back at the gym as it allows me to focus on rehab without running up mountains or cycling in 20 miles per hour winds and the like. The downside is some kind of ear infection brought on (I'm pretty sure) by the pool and a general lack of tattoos which makes me stand out in the changing room like a schoolboy at Wormwood Scrubs.

What else have I been up to? I've enjoyed a day at Twickenham watching a rejuvenated England lose against New Zealand's All Blacks (see pic right... great seats for once at Twickers!). We had a reunion of the Manchester University Rugby Football Club and it was terrific to see many faces from nearly 30 years ago. I'll be returning to Twickenham again in a couple of weeks to see England versus South Africa.

Work is ticking over and I'm taking the opportunity to re develop my website and company showreel before hitting the phones to try and shake the business tree. It's never been a part of my life that I relish but I know that it results in work which I love and which is also so rewarding to us here at O'Neill Towers :)

Fiona is overseeing work on our bathroom and the main guest bedroom which is being gutted. It's long overdue really and amazing how one begins to accept things that they'd sworn to change. I guess that's true of life and a reminder of why it's never too late to chase a dream or take on a new challenge.

Today's main photo is from last week when the weather was great and I hopped onto my R3 for the first time since July. It was so good to be riding again. Long may it continue.

An Update...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 07:16:00 +0000

That's not me, by the way. It's just supposed to represent the millions of back exercises I've been doing lately.

Thanks to all of you who have been so supportive over the past few weeks. I was at a screening of the great Tour de France movie, 'Chasing Legends', last night and bumped into a few of my Team MK colleagues who expressed their surprise and delight at seeing me on my feet and mobile.

So I thought I'd update you.

Whilst I can't say I've had a miracle cure, the progress I've made has been absolutely first class. Since the SNRB injection I have dedicated myself to rehabilitating the injury. I now undergo a daily exercise regime designed to strengthen the lower core and stretch my still troublesome back. I have begun to take several key supplements each day specifically to aid my disc recovery (including Vitamin C and Omega 3) and, for the first time in many years, I've joined a gym.

At present I'm 'dahn the gym' between three and six times a week and I work on the mat for 20 minutes, doing my back specific exercises. Then I'll do 30 minutes on the static bike followed by a swim (I'm now up to 800 metres). Finally, I'll sit in the steam room to allow the back to expand by way of 'reward'.

So, whilst there's a long way to go, I'm most definitely heading in the right direction. The key is not to overdo things and to concentrate on stability of and around the back. So, in my mind, I'm committed to this ongoing regime until xmas, when I hope to resume base training for the summer. It will then become clear what state the injury is at and I'll either continue, or back off, depending on the results.

I have a feeling also that my achilles was most definitely caused by my back problems. This injury is showing signs of strong recovery too. So I'm in a decent enough place at the moment and am thinking only positive thoughts.

Otherwise we are all well. My book is with a couple of literary agents, one of whom has already sent it back with a list of notes as long as my arm. Sometimes I think people feel they need to change things for the sake of it. I mean, if you don't like the material, say so. Don't hide behind 'notes' to try and explain your position. Because even if I re-wrote it to the exact specification of those notes, you'd still not like it. Best simply to say... 'not for me, here's why, good luck'. But - as any author, JK Rowling included, will tell you - you only need one person to like it and you're up and running.

I'm busy at work and thankfully the injury now allows me to travel.

Speaking of which, I must head into London for an edit. I figured you'd like to hear how things were going.

Laters

SNRB and other such terms I'd never heard of...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 24 Sep 2010 12:11:00 +0000

Okay.

I'll try and keep it brief.

We returned from a terrific family holiday in Portugal's Algarve on August 18th. On August 19th the back pain I'd been feeling for a while exploded like a hand grenade someone had secreted deep within my gluteal muscles. The pain radiated down into my leg and I had a sinking feeling about the whole thing.

Over the next few days I managed to complete my duties with work whilst the pain became far, far worse. I'd written a letter to my GP and booked an appointment with him the following week (he's a popular man). In the letter I'd described my symptoms as 'searing pain radiating down the outside of my thigh, down into my shin and foot'. By this time I was unable to sit down, stand, drive or think straight.

I took an emergency appointment with a locum at my GP's surgery and he felt it might be piriformis syndrome. I'd looked at this myself and initially had the same thoughts but something was telling me more and more that this was disc related. I was referred to a local physiotherapist who immediately voiced her concern that something was wrong with my back, probably an L4/L5 disc problem. (The L refers to the 'Lumbar' part of the spine which, I now know, is labelled as four different parts, each with their numbered vertebrae.) My trip coincided with a phone call from my GP who had seen my letter and immediately diagnosed the same issue, referring me (at my request) to a specialist spinal surgeon.

The pain, by now, was at its most intense. I was taking industrial strength prescription painkillers called Tramadol. These are an opiate based (addictive) painkiller and usage is capped at 400mg a day. But they simply didn't touch the agony I felt whenever I moved and at the height of the problem I was taking 2 x 50mg tablets six times a day. Each time I took the Tramadol I'd also take two 400mg paracetamol tablets. In the evening I'd take 50mg of Amytriptylene (a drug initially designed as an anti-depressant but now used almost exclusively for nerve pain) to help with my attempts to sleep.

It doesn't take a genius to realise that this was not a good situation to be in.

Over the next three weeks or so I learned to live with the problem and travelled the long road through diagnosis and treatment. I say the 'long road' but I was phenomenally lucky to have private health and this expedited matters considerably. Within four days of my GP's call I was seeing a specialist surgeon. The next day I had an MRI scan. Six days later I had a consultation that revealed a laterally herniated disc in the L5/S1 vertebrae. A lateral herniation is when - unusually, the disc (the disc is the cushioning membrane between vertebrae) 'slips' or moves out of line not to the back and into the spinal canal but out to the side. This herniated disc was/is pressing on the nerve that runs from the L4/L5 joint, giving similar symptoms of sciatica to a conventional L4/L5 herniation.

My specialist - Jon Kitson - advised a SNRB injection, a procedure where cortisone and local anaesthetic is injected into the nerve root close to the disc affected. The hope is that this will 'shut down' the nerve and result in partial eradication of pain in the leg. The procedure has a 75% success rate and, if successful, can have an effective lifespan of anything between two days and forever. The hope is that by eradicating the pain in the leg (which is 90% of the debilitating nature of the condition) the patient is equipped to lead some kind of normal life and to progress with re-habilitation.

A note here on 're-habilitation'. It was explained to me that in 95% of cases, this type of disc herniation will heal naturally. All the people I spoke to - from the anecdotal man in the street, through GPs, physios, chiropractors, those who had suffered with the problem through to my surgeon himself - everyone to a person said that surgery was absolutely a 'last choice' option. I'm happy to go along with that.

I underwent the procedure last Monday at Spire BUPA Hospital in Harpenden. I was in and out in a day and the results are encouraging. It is now 96 hours since the needle and the pain in my legs has reduced to something like tolerable. I am pain free when lying down and becoming much more mobile, able to drive myself short distances. I've come off all the medication, partly to assess the success or otherwise of the injection and partly just to rid myself of that awful, drowsy, drugged feeling that the painkillers brought. The pain now is in my glutes and lower back and there is also a pain that recurs in the lower leg, outside the shinbone.

I'm able to commence physio exercises to engage my inner core and sleep - whilst not perfect - is now at least possible in sporadic bursts. I look forward to returning to the marital bed though that is another story.

There is, of course, a considerably large sword of Damocles hanging over my head in that the efficacy of the procedure could cease at any time. The thought of being faced with that kind of pain again fills me with dread so I'm dedicating myself to a regime of self healing which will hopefully speed up the shrinkage of the disc back to its normal position. This includes, but is not limited to, ongoing physiotherapy and stretching, posture revisions, diet change to include more natural anti-inflammatories, a regime of vitamin supplements including omega 3, Vitamin C and Glucosamine Sulphate (which I already take anyway) and more alcohol.

I could be joking about the alcohol.

So that's where we are. It may heal, it may not. It may take a few weeks, it may take months, it may take years. I may be ready to begin training for an Ironman in January, I may not.

Those of you who know me won't need me to say that I'm contemplating nothing other than a full recovery in the optimum amount of time that leaves me fitter and stronger than ever before.

But I've said it anyway.

This post is by way of letting everyone know the current situation. You will all have had a link to this site and it's impossible to name you all. You are my physiotherapists, chiropractors, surgeons, family, friends, fellow athletes and fellow warriors against back pain.

But know this... your support, advice, guidance and assistance has been and will continue to be invaluable. Please keep it coming. It helps so much in the fight to return to normal.

Finally, a special thanks to Fiona, who has looked after me, ferried me around, fetched me things, and generally performed a service above and beyond the call of duty with a smile and dedication that I should not be surprised about. And, to tell you the truth, I'm not. But it would be remiss of me not to tell her how much I appreciate it.

Treasure your spine.

J.

Decay

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 10:00:00 +0000

Like radioactive nuclear waste that was once so threatening and full of life-endangering vitality, I now sit here decaying slightly and a shadow of my former self. Don't worry, it's not a permanent state of affairs, simply the culmination of various ailments that have conspired to occur simultaneously. Just as, it seems, bad news always arrives in more than one form, so do injuries and illnesses.

The past few weeks have seen me struggling to recover from a urine infection which has knocked me for six, leaving me with incredible kidney pain, nausea and the feeling of uncontrollable tiredness. I thought we'd gotten (just for my American readers) to the bottom of it with a course of antibiotics but I fear it may not have been shaken completely and the little blighter may still be up to no good, buried deep inside my urinary tract.

Alongside that I've had some form of virus that the docs think may be related. They can't put their finger on it but feel that it's now 'on the way out'. I think they could be right about this.

My lower back has been absolute agony for a few weeks now (this is a mechanical pain not the pain caused by the infection) resulting in difficulty standing for long periods of time.

And, of course, my achilles is still injured.

Of all the ailments, my achilles shows most signs of recovery - which is good. I've been having intensive work on it from Dr John, my chiro and sports injury bod. Every morning I go to his practice and do weight bearing drops on the achilles from an exercise step. As I'm doing this he's grinding a set of specialist Graston tools (photo right) against the achilles to stimulate blood flow. I'm also keeping going with my eccentric excercises mentioned in previous weeks. I'm not able to run yet, but I've cautiously jogged a few hundred meters and the pain is low and constant compared with high and increasing several months ago.

So, I feel we're making progress.

Work has been incredibly busy - which I'm not complaining about. I've been shooting and editing ads for a regular client as well as quoting on projects to come. Long may this continue.

Still no news on my book. It's been with three literary agents for two months now and I've heard nothing back. There's little point in pestering my agent... I just have to accept that it's 'out there' and in whatever passes as a system at this point in an author's life.

So, for all sorts of reasons, not least that I feel my body is telling me, I'm ready for a rest.

Fortuitous then that we have a holiday approaching. In a few days we'll be off to one of our favourite retreats, Portugal's Algarve coast. We've taken a peaceful villa with its own pool and I will be dedicating the two weeks to rest and recuperation.

Without fail I will be ensuring I do the following things:

1. Play with and enjoy the company of my children.
2. Ditto my wife.
3. Increase my sleep.
4. Decrease my alcohol consumption.
5. Read books.
6. Relax

There will be other things but the above will be given the utmost priority.

I recently returned from IMCH (Ironman Switzerland) where I'd gone to support my friends from Team MK. You'll remember I had to accept I couldn't complete the race due to my achilles injury and, as it happens, with my back injury and infection descending upon me the week before, I'd have been unable to race competitively anyway.

But I had a swim skin with me and my old winter bike so I managed to do the swim in Lake Zurich and hop out for a lap of the bike course. I'm glad I did as it confirmed that my love affair with Ironman is not yet over and that I feel I have more in the tank in terms of performance.

All my mates did well, as did my Team MK mates at yesterday's Ironman UK race - one of the toughest on the Ironman calendar.

Special congratulations this week go to my Canadian buddy, Bryan Payne for qualifying for the Ironman World Championships in Kona in October. Bryan has raced three Ironman races this year so far and finally qualified at IM Lake Placid. His resolute determination to achieve a super-ambitious goal is something I can identify with and I, for one, know that beneath the projection of a beer drinking, carefree soul lies the steely heart and unshakeable resolve of a great competitor in life and sport. A man who I could do business with - in the figurative sense, of course. Well done, buddy.

Finally - congratulations must also go to my great mate Tom Williams who races in his last ever Irondistance triathlon this weekend. I met Tom and his wife Helen at my first Ironman - 2007 in Austria. Since that time our friendship has grown and our families have become great buddies with them regularly visiting us and our enjoying relaxed weekends together. Tom has been a constant source of encouragement and advice on my Ironman journey whilst undergoing his own. You've been an inspiration mate. I look forward to years of friendship formed out of this great sport and wish you enjoyment in whatever sporting, business and life challenges you are moving on to.

On that positive note I feel energised and revitalised. I'm sorry I've not been on the blog for a long time. I'll try and not make that mistake again.

Sleep well.

A New Beginning...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 07:59:00 +0000

Watching England crash out of The World Cup has reminded me that painful though these things are, they bring with them a moment of epiphany that can ultimately be much more rewarding than simply struggling on.

As far as the football goes, the simple fact is that we weren't good enough. Our players are drained from an exhausting schedule playing in the toughest league in the world and the manager continued to play a system which was palpably not working. So we crashed out and I've been left confused and angry as to why we didn't put up a better show.

But once that anger has subsided I am left hopeful that an opportunity can be seized to change things once and for all. What better time than now to rebuild the system, clear out the dead wood of the old players and bring in a fresh manager with new ideas - someone who can undertake a root and branch revision of the way we do our international footballing business. Sir Clive Woodward as performance director working alongside Roy Hodgson's management? I tell you what, say what you want about it but I guarantee that we'd do a hell of a lot better in four years time under that management team. However, I doubt, in this case, that the nettle will be grasped.

In life too we can re-invent ourselves at moments of perceived weakness. I'm convinced that this continual revision of goals and methods is a fundamental part of keeping life interesting and fresh.

I figure I have the opportunity to do just that whilst I'm re-habing from my achilles injury. It's a great opportunity to look back at what I've been doing and look ahead to what I might want to do in the future. Do I want to continue with Ironman? Perhaps more swimming? Perhaps more 'event' cycling? How am I training? Could my train/work/family balance be better? Lots of challenging questions and opportunity for revision.

We shall see.

In the meantime there are signs of slight improvement on the injury. I am three and a half weeks into the twelve week plan and, whilst I still can't jog on the achilles, it is now showing signs of strengthening due to the repetition of the eccentric exercises that I've been doing. I figure that this strengthening is part of the healing process and am focussing on these positives rather than being concerned with what I can't do. I actually had a dream the other night that I could run again. What a day it will be when I can.

Anyway... time to rush on and do a bit of re-invention. Waiting to hear back from some literary agents about my book but am not holding my breath. I don't have enough rejection letters yet to be considered a serious author! Work is ticking over but it seems as if everyone is in some kind of World Cup/Heatwave torpor.

Laters...

They wanted me to go to Re-hab...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 12:15:00 +0000

... and I said, 'yeah, yeah, yeah'...

So, we're exactly a week into the programme and here's an update on how its going. I started by engaging in the exercises that physio JD had given me. These consisted of stretching the achilles and calf for a minute or so, then performing warm up exercises by rising on both sets of toes. Once warmed up I was then to do some light eccentric calf drops - demonstration by someone else here.

But the achilles wasn't calming down. It continued to be aggravated and tender. So I've decided to cut right back on all exercising of the injury until I get rid of the tenderness. Three or four days later, it's improving. But now I've made the decision to re-hab I'm not in any rush. It will heal when it heals. The key is to let it heal.

Swimming's still going on though and I'm doing a mix of pool and open water swimming. Along with some weights, stretching and core it's keeping me sane.

I'm enjoying the time I have around the house, and the girls are enjoying having me around. We had a car boot sale for Erin's trip to Mongolia last sunday and raised £ 152. Good going I think and something I really enjoyed doing with my family - something I wouldn't have had the chance to do if I was training.

I'm shooting on Friday - a video for TNT - which will take my mind of these early days of not training. We've also got the World Cup coming up which I can't wait for.

I've caught up with some good movies too. Watched THE VISITOR last night, a great US Indie and hugely recommended as a touching, character based drama. We watched WHAT'S EATING GILBERT GRAPE as a family and the girls loved it. Other movies have included AN EDUCATION, MOON and PUBLIC ENEMIES. I'm fully intending to get back to the movies on a more regular basis.

So, in short, all is well with the world. I'm optimistic, as ever.

And if you can't be optimistic, what's the point in going on.

Come on England !!!

A Line in the Sand...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 08:16:00 +0000

That's what my physio told me yesterday.

"We have to draw a line in the sand," he said.

And, reluctantly, I knew he was right.

My achilles injury has been going on for too long now. I have, in no particular order, tried the following treatments to help clear it up. Massage, manipulation, achilles bowing, icing, compression, elevation, heat treatment, cold-freeze treatment, deep-penetration massage oil treatment, graston manipulation, chiropractic intervention, gait analysis and orthotic inserts, heel lifts and pads, running shoe cutaways, acupuncture, stretching, eccentric loading, extended heel raises, weight bearing exercises, balance boards, strapping (you name the tape, I've used it), anti-inflammatories (both ibuprofen and diclofenac) and almost anything else you could care to mention.

So please; I hope you'll understand if I ask you not to suggest treatments. Simply put, barring surgical intervention I have done everything I can to right this wrong. And I have no intention of embarking on surgery around the achilles area. None whatsoever.

Following an ultrasound scan last Friday I was told I had the following: 'The achilles is thickened, heterogeneous in its appearance and shows significant hyperaemia indicating a Grade 3 tendinopathy.' It went on to mention an 'ultrasound guided pre-Achilles injection' as possibly being of use.

Wonderful! Fantastic! Amazing! I had a miracle cure. Only... I didn't. Despite so wanting to believe that the magic cortisone bullet would be fired from the syringe into my ailing achilles and a fully restored Ironman would in a few weeks be pounding his marathon around the streets of Zurich - I've been forced to do something I don't do too often or too well in my life.

I've been forced to listen.

Prevailing medical opinion is that steroid injections into the achilles are dangerous. They lead to a significant increase in the risk of achilles rupture. In case you're in any doubt, this is a bad thing. Who says? Well, pretty much everyone. My physio, JD, is an Ironman and physiotherapist to the GB Olympic Triathlon and Badminton squads. He says so. My mate Gabriel is a sub 10 Ironman and noted vascular surgeon. He says so. My club mate Chris Herman is a GP and Half Ironman. He says so. My chiropractor, John Williamson, is an ex international sprinter and top class rugby player. He says so.

I could go on. But frankly, what's the point of asking these people if I'm going to disregard what they say. To a man they all advise rest and a structured process of rehabilitation as being the best way forward.

So that's what I'm going to do.

You seen the only thing I haven't done over the past few months is accepted that I have serious injury and given myself over to a structured rehab program which will last for 12 weeks.

Unfortunately that means no Ironman Switzerland this year for me.

But just as I have to HTFU (for those of you unversed in such niceties, this stands for 'Harden The F**k Up) in Ironman races and battle through all manner of adverse problems, now I have to treat my ongoing athletic career as a race in itself. I need to HTFU and make the tough decision to take a breather. This is a long race and I'm not even halfway through it. If I pull up now, rest awhile and take my penalty box medicine, I'll get back on the bike and be stronger, faster and ultimately more successful for the rest of the race. (sorry for the tortuous Ironman analogies but it all makes perfect sense to me and will do to most of the triathletes reading this).

I am turning this into a positive.

Watch me.

I'm going to re-charge my batteries, stay fit and focus on the future. See... I've started already.

And finally. Please. No sympathy. This is a minor issue. People are dying. Families lose loved ones. Hopes and dreams are regularly dashed by unforseen events.

I am a super-fit, healthy middle-aged bloke with a great life and an irritating injury. That's all. Let's get these things into perspective.

Thanks for still being here on the journey.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a leg to stretch.

Be careful what you wish for...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 24 May 2010 09:13:00 +0000

It's been a long time since we last spoke. You'll be detecting that my heart seems no longer to be in weekly blogging.

You're right.

Don't know why and can't explain it. Sometimes the mojo just isn't with you and I no longer feel compelled to write every monday.

Sorry. No promises but I'll think about getting back to it on a more regular basis.

Thinking about it, it may well be due to my desire, at the beginning of the season, to make this year's Ironman training more relaxed than previous years'. I dispensed with my coach, exchewed my Garmin and trained more on feel than stats. And, I have to say I enjoyed that very much. I also wanted to delay my fitness peak as I believe that in my last two Ironman races, I'd been peaking around mid June time. With this race not happening until the end of July, I felt no urgency to get super fit, super quick, relying on the drip drip drip of steady improvement.

How does the saying go; 'be careful what you wish for, it might just come true'? Something like that, anyway. Well, it appears to be the case in my situation. My fitness is certainly being delayed. Not due to a training regime, but due to the lack of it.

I've been battling an achilles injury for the best part of the year now. It started in february and was with me a month or so before stretches and calf-strengthening sidelined it. It returned, however, in late March and - being the dullard that I am - I kept trying to run on it to 'test it'.

Doh - it didn't need 'testing' - it was telling me there was a problem. Three weeks ago, things reached a head when, following a four day, 300 mile cycling trip to the Peak District with some Team MK buddies, I tried to run once again. After a couple of miles the achilles tightened dramatically and began to give me a huge amount of pain. I was forced to hobble in and take stock.

It's taken three weeks to show any sign of improvement and only now am I beginning to be able to walk without pain. The thought of even jogging is a long way off but at least with the recent improvement I've seen I can see some light at the end of the tunnel whereas for the past three weeks I've been in a bit of a dark place.

All this got me thinking about the insular nature of our worlds. Isn't it the case that everything orbits our 'world', with it taking an almost superhuman effort to see things from the edge of the galaxy that contains us. There I am feeling like it's the end of my world when all I have is a tight achilles. People are dying and suffering the most awful diseases and tribulations yet here's me, with all my relative riches ('life' riches rather than monetary riches) feeling glum about a self inflicted sporting injury. What wouldn't those with real problems give to exchange places with me?

Frankly, I feel ashamed of my behaviour at times and it's a humbling and strengthening exercise to force oneself out of one's bubble now and then and see your problems from another's perspective. Things are never as bad as they seem.

I've cancelled all my races up to Ironman Switzerland. These included Grendon Sprint, Marshman Half IM, Bala Middle and The European Championships in Ireland. Needs must. I have only one 'A' race and if I can take part I want to, even if it means doing so relatively unfit and having to walk the marathon.

I'll keep you posted but if you hear me whinging, prod me and tell me to stop being a morose f***er.

Photos this week are, as my girls would say, random. My new Cervelo R3 road bike, Erin and Alice, me after climbing Winnats Pass in The Peak District, the dreaded achilles when taped up.

I'm sure we have much family news but it's been so long that I'll limit it to this. We are all well. The girls are healthy. Fiona is still my wife. The weather is wonderful.

We are blessed to be here. So lucky to be just passing through. Even a sore achilles can't dull my underlying love of life and sense of joy at the wonder of it all.

I hope you are all well and your problems are tiny ones.

I'm all a Twitter...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 08:26:00 +0000

Blogging. One minute I was marching with the Avant Garde, the next I'm bringing up the rear of life's platoon. Amazing how technology moves on, isn't it. I find myself neglecting my blog - and, if you're a regular visitor, you won't need me to tell you this.

For that I apologise.

It's strange. When I write, I enjoy it - but the thought of doing it fills me with a wee bit of dread. It's been the same with all my writing - whether it be my film scripts or my (unpublished) novel. Once I'm into it, it's fine but I don't want to start.

There are parallels here with my current situation regarding training. This year has been and is destined to be a fractured year. Already I've had several injuries which have stopped me from training. An inflamed achilles and pulled back are the current culprits. One of the reasons I've always tried to train through injuries is that - for me - Ironman training is half based on routine as much as the physicality of doing the work. What I mean is that we do such huge distances as Ironmen that were we to think about the prospect of going for, say a 3km pool swim followed by a 60 mile bike ride (which at this part of the season for me would be a fairly normal morning session), then our minds would put the brakes on and question it.

No, far better to be in a routine where one doesn't think, one simply 'does'. No thought processes, no 'why am I doing this' - just get up, get your gear on and go. Bike time is thinking time, not pre bike time.

Injuries, though, present the mind with too much operating space. Just as I thrive on being busy at work, crashing through all manner of stuff, I thrive from being busy training. With an injury it's hard to get back into the routine and, the more I think about it, the more I can find other things to do.

Like lead a normal life.

Not that Twitter is normal, but I've been enjoying it recently. I guess you could call it the mortar between the bricks of my life. The notion of a worldwide mini-community intrigues me and I enjoy the brevity of posting required. Though if you were to add together all that brevity, I'm sure it would play out as a sizeable chunk of wasted life - or at least that's what Fiona tells me.

Work has been really busy and has kept me distracted from blogging type things. I've been producing ads for several clients and working on my book which - and I can't remember where I was last time we spoke - I'm currently re-writing.

The re-writing process has been an eye-opener for me and has affected the work quite dramatically. At least, I think it has. I'm going through the manuscript removing what I refer to as 'author's voice', or at least the overtly obvious 'author's voice'. My film writing has left me more than capable of telling a story in a brisk and entertaining way and I think I need to prune the novel back to that type of story-telling, especially as it's aimed at a younger market. I've told my agent that I'll take a look at it once it's done and see which I prefer. Already I think I know.

We had a wonderful trip to our good friends Jonny and Alli down in Devon, staying with them and their two children Solly and Mattilda. A splendid time was had by all and our trip coincided with a turn in the weather which I hope is hear to stay. The feeling of warmth on your bones really does lift the spirits, doesn't it. There's a photo up above of Alice and Mattilda. How fantastic it was to be on a beach again. I miss the coast, having grown up by the sea.

Erin, Alice and Fiona are all well. I've enjoyed the Easter break with them and - despite their penchant for sleepovers (the kids, not Fiona) they remain able to function normally most of the day. It's been a pleasure working with Erin on a school writing project she's doing - she's the type of student that rarely requires any parental input but working with her on writing has been fulfilling and rewarding. I've said to her that she should think seriously about a life as a writer... if only to eliminate it.

I keep saying to my kids... you can do anything you want to in life. It's important to repeat that message to them until it becomes second nature. Already I can see an independent streak in Alice which will lead to her ploughing her own furrow.

Been seeing a few movies too but, alas, my new year's resolution to visit the cinema once a week seems to have crashed and burned as might an aeroplane flying through a cloud of volcanic ash. I may well find a couple of days, tot up my ticket purchases, work out what I'm short and then see several movies back to back to catch up.

Then again... this may prove difficult if I'm back to training.

And I so, so, so hope that I am. I'll keep you posted, I promise.

And I promise to try and maintain the blog a little more.

I'm going to have news of my new road bike soon, so there's an opportunity to keep you updated.

My training since I last saw you has been as follows:

lots and lots of hours, hundreds of miles on the bike, followed by injury and hardly any training. Felt glum, now feeling better.

Onwards and upwards my friends. Onwards and upwards.

An Apology...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 10:47:00 +0000

To my good buddy, Robert Quantrell.

Rob, you are right.

Surrogates is a crap movie.

Busy Busy...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 10:34:00 +0000

I've been up and down between the office and Manchester recently, putting the finishing touches to a series of TV ads I'm making. I've also been doing some radio commercials. Consequently, training has been a little fractured and I've needed to be light on my feet to fit in sessions. But I'm pleased with what I've done and staying at the Marriott has helped as they have complementary membership of a gym in Manchester.

Here's how the week went down:

Monday - Day off
Tuesday - 75 min swim, 10 x 400m off 7'30"
Weds - 45 min 2km swim, 45 min run, 30 mins core and stretch (gym)
Thurs - 45 min run, 30 mins core and stretch, 30 mins run, 15 mins weights (gym)
Friday - 1 hour 8 mile run
Saturday - 103 mile bike, 6 mile run (back to back)
Sunday - 45 min recovery bike, 30 min easy run

Total time training 14.6 hrs
Swim 6km
Bike 118 miles
Run 27 miles (approx)

I'm still keeping up with my new year's resolution to see a film at the cinema once a week. Or, rather, to buy 52 cinema tickets throughout they year as sometimes it's not feasible to go every week. This week I took advantage of being away from home to go and see GREEN ZONE, which I wasn't to impressed with, and SHUTTER ISLAND which I really enjoyed. I also saw (not at the cinema) SURROGATES which was a little tiresome.

Must rush as time is pressing. I've got to finish up all my ads, travel to Manchester and continue re-drafting my book which I'm filleting down as an experiment to see what it feels like without too much verbiage.

Onwards and upwards. Have a great week.

A Question of Balance...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 12:51:00 +0000

I've been working on 'good form' recently. In swimming this is concentrating on steady, rhythmic cadence with a good catch of the water and keeping my arse in the air. In cycling it's my pedaling stroke, push and pull rather than up and down. In running it's concentrating on my foot strike and a correct roll thereafter, in addition to keeping my arms relaxed and my elbow angle at no more acute than 90 degrees.

I'm hoping it will give me a better balance when undertaking all three disciplines that will, in turn, lead to increased speed combined with a saving in energy. We'll see how it goes.

Yet there's another balance to be undertaken when we IM train. The balance of the disciplines themselves. I see and hear of a lot of folk spending hours in the pool and hammering away at the swim. Yet, in reality, swimming is (at least for me) less than 10% of my total IM time. Biking and running are by far the largest constituents, with biking being the most important.

Why?

Well Ironman isn't just about putting together a good bike time. It's about putting together a good bike time and being able to run a fast marathon off it. And there's a world of difference between the two. To achieve both, there is no other way than to get on the bike and ride.

Miles and miles.

I'm trying to get to a stage where I can reduce my bike time from the 5 hrs 20 mins I took in IMDE last year, yet expend less energy in doing so. I'm working on my core so I can be more productive in the aero postion and also be stronger when finally upright and on my feet. I'm also getting used to pushing a big gear and keeping my heart rate low. I think this is the key to Ironman biking. Low heartrate.

So I've decided to reduce my swim sets to, at most, three a week and focus more and more on bike and run. Even though I'm doing a fair amount of biking as it is. It's a question of balance in my training and I'll keep you posted as to how it goes.

Here's what last week looked like:

Mon 3.3km swim set
Tues 33 mile bike, 5.6 mile run
Weds 60 mile bike, 2.5 mile run
Thurs 5.6 mile run
Fri 2km swim, 30 mile bike, 5.6 mile run
Sat 63 mile bike
Sun 11.3 mile run

So, that's

Swim 5.3km
Bike 186 miles
Run 30.8 miles

Total training time 18.15 hours including a sports massage. That broke down into 11% swim, 61% bike and 21% run with the rest going to core and stretching.

I reckon that's a good balance.

Congratulations this week to Mark Kleanthous for completing the fabulously hard IM China in 12 hrs and 29 mins, a fantastically good time in the 36 degree heat. My Twitter friend Brian Payne had to quit after half the run but put up a great show until then. He'll live to race another day.

Erin is super excited about being selected for her school's World Challenge Expedition to Mongolia in Summer 2011. It's a huge challenge for which they have to raise £ 3,500 and will result in a month away in the land of Ghengis Khan. What an opportunity! I seem to remember we had a few trips to Chester Zoo!

Must rush as I've spent over an hour in the dentist's chair and now am off to London to record a voice over.

Train hard, play hard and make sure you get the life balance right.

A grown man...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 08:57:00 +0000

I have to say I found myself wondering what the hell I was doing last week. Work had taken me up to Manchester and, whilst my achilles injury seems to have cleared up thanks to the work of my physio, JD, I'm still plagued with my long standing back injury. (Not complaining, it goes with the territory. Ironmen generally have something wrong with them - it's always a bonus to be operating at full tilt).

I stayed at a hotel that allowed me membership of the local Virgin gym, so took full advantage of their facilities to stay on top of training. But my back and, in particular, my glutes were giving me all sorts of gyp. So I popped down to the Arndale Centre and bought a hockey training ball for £ 1.99.

That's bloody cheap.

It's some kind of moulded resin material that stinks to high heaven. But all I knew was it was hard and that rolling around on a tennis ball, whilst moderately painful, had not solved my glutes problem.

And so it was that I found myself rolling around the floor of my 'junior suite' with a rock hard boulder of a ball beneath me. I combined the session with a core work out and so began to work up a healthy sheen of sweat. Now let me tell you, they may hoover those carpets every day, but when you're rolling around on them in your birthday suit you soon realise that there is a lifetime of other people's grime and dust lurking beneath the deceptively clean and luxurious looking shag pile.

Kind of nylony they are too, so I'm sure that were it not for said sweat layer, the static electricity would have caused me to spontaneously combust and burn my way through the floor like some kind China Syndrome meltdown.

Anyway, whilst all these thoughts were floating through my head in a desparate attempt to hold the agonising pain of the hockey ball at bay, another popped into my brain.

What the hell was I doing?

Whilst other businessmen were enjoying a glass of wine and a meal in the restaurant, I was grinding it out on this man made bed of dust, sweating and grunting in pain, before munching down a fruit salad from my fridge and getting an early night prior to the morning's 8 mile run. What kind of life is that for a boy?

For a moment I began to think the allure of Ironman might be wearing off.

This season seems to be more of an effort to keep to the levels of training I set myself to remain competitive. I don't know why this is; maybe it's familiarity with the sport breeding something of a little contempt? Whatever it is, I've lacked the vim and vigour of previous years.

That said, I'm doing things differently this year. I have no coach and I've deliberartely delayed the onset of training in an attempt to peak in late July rather than peaking in early June as I feel I've been doing in recent years. I still think this is the right strategy but it does leave one feeling a little 'rudderless' in these early stages. This, combined with my virus (from which I'm only recently recovered) I think has served to make things feel a little strange this time around.

But, things are changing. The sun is back in the sky, I feel like I'm recovering my energy reserves lost to the virus and, most importantly, for the first time in many months I seem to be running injury free. The last item is key, as running has always been a strength. My calf tear and achilles injury have served to leave me very short on run practice though and I've really not done that much since September time.

All that was put to bed last week though when, in true stupid-Jevon style I launched myself into a ridiculously demanding run schedule for someone returning from injury. I ran 6 miles on Monday, 8 miles on Wednesday, 8 miles on Thursday, 15 miles on Saturday and 2.5 miles on Sunday. Looking back on it - that was pretty stupid. If Coach K had been with me he'd have insisted I'd have run nothing like that and he would have been right. However, I seem to have got away with it.

The running was at the expense of the biking this week where I managed only one long-ish ride of 63 miles. But seeing I was away and that I'd ridden long and hard the previous week I'm not too concerned about that. My bike form is solid if not spectacular but I can't help thinking that things will become clearer when I get off my heavy winter bike with its slow wheels. I'll have a clearer idea of where I stand come May-time.

But I've been putting in the hours, with 28.5 hours training over the last couple of weeks.

I've been keeping up my cinema going and am back on track with my new year resolution to see a cinema film every week this year. Recent viewings have included FROM PARIS WITH LOVE, CRAZY HEART and SOLOMON KANE. Friday night saw a screening of THE HURT LOCKER at our Old Thatch Cinema Society. Pick of the bunch for me was CRAZY HEART, with Jeff Bridges' performance being a stand out.

I finally heard back from my agent about my book. The first literary agent he sent it too 'passed' on it (meaning they feel it's not for them) which, to be honest, is disappointing but not surprising. There isn't a writer alive who hasn't been 'passed' on, so it goes with the landscape. We move onwards and upwards and will send it out to another. If I get similar notes from this literary agent I'll take a look at the writing again.

Work is busy. So that's always a welcome distraction, even if it does take me away from home and my girls. I miss them a huge amount when I'm away and it's always a delight to be home and sharing the same living space with them (and I include Fiona, my wife, in that of course).

We have a French student, Pauline, staying with us for a week. She's here as part of a student exchange programme and Erin will be going to France in a couple of weeks to stay with her family. Erin has also applied for her school's World Challenge Programme in 2011 which will be a one month trip to Mongolia. It's a fantastic opportunity and we'll hear this week if she's been selected to go (a process of random selection). If so, more about it then.

I've rambled a long time.

Today's photo is my nasally offensive, visually repulsive, nerve shredding hockey ball.

Think of me and wince.

It's a Virtue...

noreply@blogger.com (Jevon) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 11:17:00 +0000

Patience that is!

I think I'm a fairly relaxed, patient sort of bloke. My parents tell me different. As do my wife and children. They tell me I'm in a hurry to get places and do things.

Which I guess is fair comment.

With Ironman training though, normal rules don't apply. The distances are so long and the training volumes so high that it's necessary to start months before an event. Truth be told we Ironmen get into the habit of always training. Even through autumn and winter I was doing something most days - something which, prior to starting Ironman, I'd have regarded as a huge amount of training. In truth, it's now just 'ticking over'.

So my base levels of fitness are much, much higher than they were a few years ago. Consequently I can stand a few setbacks on the road to Ironman fitness. It's kind of built into the schedule. When the knocks and setbacks come, it's important not to try and make up what you might perceive you've lost. Truth is - you haven't lost it. You just think you have. Trust in your training past and your training to come and get back in the game. Your techinque in the pool will return, as will the strength in your bike legs.

It's like life. Trust yourself. Back yourself. Believe in yourself. You're a winner and winners don't have problems; only opportunities.

Last week I was recovering from my bug. I'd lost over 10lbs in the week of sickness and diorreah and was feeling pretty weak. So I reigned back the training and gradually got back into it towards the end of the weeks with just under 7 hours of biking, swimming and core work.

This week I'm planning to be back to normal volumes.

I'm still suffering with my achilles injury but last week went to see John Dennis at Body Limits. JD is a mate from Team MK, an accomplished age group triathlete in his own right and physiotherapist to the GB triathlon team. He's pretty sure he's on the right track with my achilles and I'm working religiously on his exercises to strenghten my right calf. I'm pretty sure it's working but won't know for sure until it's put to the test with a decent run. I managed a 1km test run on concrete over the weekend with no ill effects so am optimistic.

What else is new?

Well, it's busy at work. I've a new commercial to produce and direct before Easter and several smaller projects also going on at the same time. I've not heard back from my agent about my book so will be bothering him sometime this week to see if he's heard back from the writer's agent that he was sending it to (wheels within wheels). I know these things take time so don't get too het up about the wait. It can be frustrating though (or does this, once again, go to my being an impatient man?)

Alice had a fantastic parents evening at her school - The Sir Henry Floyd Grammar in Aylesbury. She's at that age (12, rising 13) where she's now settled into senior school and is really starting to thrive and develop into a young lady. Happy times.

I missed out on my new year's resolution last week of going to the movies but will try to go twice this week to make up for it. I'm allowing myself a couple of lapses, as long as I buy 52 cinema tickets in the year!

I could go on but, frankly, find myself itching to get back to work.

Some might say I was impatient.