Friday, September 14, 2012

London 2012 – a story for the grandkids

Well that was brilliant, wasn’t it? Every minute of it. I just wish it could have gone on for longer.

As I get older, I realise the fragility of time more and more (and I know I’m not that old!). I look forward to things on the horizon. But before I know it, they’re over. And then a week, month and year passes and I can barely remember the thing it was that I was so looking forward to or the feelings it evoked in me at the time. As time passes it gets more difficult to capture and return to the moment.

I fear this will be the case for the Olympics, but on a national scale. Without doubt this has been the best British summer of my lifetime. The sporting achievements in the Olympics and beyond have eclipsed anything I have ever seen.

A good barometer is ‘Sports Personality of the Year’. In any other year Andy Murray, Laura Trott, Andrew Strauss, Victoria Pendleton, Mo Farah, Jessica Ennis, David Weir, Sir Chris Hoy, Rory McIlroy, Bradley Wiggins and Ronnie O’Sullivan would have all been standout winners. This year, they’ll be lucky to get an invite, let alone be featured in the programme.

Many a better writer than me has already waxed lyrical about the summer of “sporting sensation”, so I won’t try and repeat that here. I do however want to give my grandkids a short memoir of some of the things that I will remember – maybe just as a guide for a “When I was younger…” tale while they sit on my knee crunching on a Worther’s Original. 

1)      Our superiority in the cycling
The Olympics started for me, like for most people, with the integrally British opening ceremony. Like millions of others I sat in my front room with one eye on the telly and the other eye on Twitter as sarcastic pre Olympic comments about Games Lanes and security turned into an outpouring of national pride. It was brilliant.

But for me it was only the warm-up act, as my heart was soon set racing by the sporting endeavours of Team GB. And out of all of these endeavours, it was the cycling team that I found the most inspiring (To note - inspiring is a word I rarely use).

On the first Saturday of the Games, I set off on my bike to Fulham High Street and waited for what I thought would be the British team leading Mark Cavendish home for Team GB’s first gold in the Road Race. However, not wanting to miss a moment, I had a pocket radio to listen to the commentary as they got closer.

Unfortunately this meant by the time the peleton was a couple of miles away, I already knew that the race had been lost. But it was still an amazing moment to see the British cyclists, including King Bradley, racing as hard as they could at the front of the chasing peleton to try and make up an impossible deficit on Mark Cavendish’s behalf.



It was a shame that Cavendish missed out on a medal again. But the team effort involved was nothing short of remarkable and not really something I had really ever considered before. Five cyclists rode 200 miles just to put one of their team mates in a position from which he could win an individual medal 500 metres from the finishing line. That dedication to a team mate is what I found inspiring.

The same spirit carried on into the Velodrome – the most electric of all of the Olympic venues in my opinion. The team pursuit is now one of my favourite sports to watch, especially when Team GB smash a world record every time they take to the track.

2)      My super Saturday
Super Saturday will probably go down as the biggest day of the Olympics. But mine was quite different to most as I was actually busy when most of the winners took gold.

In the morning, I was running in preparation for the New York marathon as Team GB rowed to three gold medals. Then when Ennis, Farah and Rutherford roared to victory in the Olympic stadium, I was busy watching the Team GB football team narrowly lose in a penalty shoot-out to South Korea with my 83-year-old Grandad.

But that didn’t mean I missed out on the action. Once again my pocket radio came to the rescue. In the morning, I was with the rowers every step of the way and they were with me – I’ve never found a run easier. Then later, I sat in the Millennium Stadium watching a below par GB performance while listening to events unfold at the Olympic Park. When Team GB was going 1-0 down to the South Koreans I was cheering for Farah crossing the finishing line.

Super Saturday was capped off the morning after with Andy Murray and Ben Ainsle, two of my favourite Olympians, winning gold. The roll that the British team was on was summed up by Ben Ainsle’s interview a couple of days before the final races of his sailing class. I mean, how often does somebody get away with saying something like: “He’s made me angry. And he didn’t want to make me angry”? If I did that, the person that made me angry would romp to victory. But not Ainsle. He backed it up by kicking “the Dane’s” arse.

3)       The spirit of the Olympic Park
I was lucky enough to go to the Olympic Park and get ‘taken up the orbit’ (less painful than it sounds) before the Games. And it was incredible, much more than just a stadium in the middle of Stratford as I had imagined. The venues were amazing, especially the Aquatics Centre, Velodrome and stadium and you could see how much thought had been put into making it an Olympic park rather than just a venue to watch sport.

And when the Games started it really came to life. I went to the Olympic Park three times during the Paralympics – to the opening and closing ceremonies and to a day of athletics. 

Each time it was a great day out. For the athletics, I was there from about 9am-6pm. The sport finished at midday, but I spent the rest of the day walking around the park in the sunshine, having lunch at the world’s biggest McDonalds and laying on the large grass areas listening to the live music.

The spirit on the park was extremely memorable also - so different to a football match. People were evidently happy and excited to be there and it had a real family feel. Equally high spirited were the now famous Games Makers, sitting on their high chairs chatting to the crowd through their megaphones or signing a song and giving people a high five with their giant foam hands. It was just a great atmosphere to be a part of.



4)      The borderline offensive office decoration
Olympic fever took over everything – even the office. Luckily I work in a place that takes an open-mind to these sorts of events. The sport was played on our TVs dotted around the office and every time Team GB won a medal, a bell was rung and a trolley full of drinks wheeled out in to the middle of everyone’s desks.

We also had a sweepstake with each pod of desks drawing a nation out of a hat. This gave people the license to decorate the office in their adopted nation’s colours in a manner that can only be described as grotesque and often crossing the line of political correctness. As China, we soon had pictures of Chairman Mao dotted around, Chinese lanterns hanging from the ceiling and a nearby pillar claimed as Tibet. My favourite decoration though was the 5 hula-hoops that one pod of desks taped to the ceiling in the form of the Olympic rings.

To round off the Olympics, the top performing desks competed in a final Olympic competition with a school sports day theme. Unfortunately, my team didn’t triumph in the egg and spoon, sack, and beanbag on the head relay.

5)      The intimacy of the victory parade
The final and perhaps most memorable moment from the Games though was the winners’ parade.
With a day off I decided to get down to Trafalgar Square early and positioned myself at the front of the crowds on the Strand. Remarkably I found myself standing next to a 61-year-old from the same town as me who had attended the same school – small world.

After about two hours of waiting, the parade of 21 trucks holding the most famous faces of the past two months reached us. It was amazing how close and accessible they were – close enough to shake their hands.

In hindsight, I think this just emphasised the remarkable intimacy of the Olympics even though it was organised on such a massive scale.  I love football, but it’s stars are never that accessible. However, the unique thing about people like Tom Daley, Jessica Ennis and Sir Chris Hoy is that they have a boy/girl next door grounding to them that makes the public feel like they can relate to them and almost know them personally. This, I think, is why there was such an outpouring of warmth as they went past that day. And most pleasing of all, is that it felt like it was a warmth that was reciprocated by the athletes towards the crowd.








Anyway, grandson….this is one for you to look forward to. Thank you London 2012. You certainly made the last few months interesting. 

N.B: All pictures copyright Andrew Webster

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

My day at the Jubilee

Someone's arse at the Jubilee Pageant

Yesterday I had a vision. I was going to go down to the Thames nice and early and get a good spot to take some pictures of the Old Girl sailing past as part of her Jubilee celebrations.

At midday – nearly four hours before she was due to finish her voyage – I set off to Embankment with long lens in hand. I even bought some patriotic newspapers to keep me occupied while I waited.

But when I got down to Embankment my vision soon got clouded. I couldn’t get out of the main exit towards the Thames and was directed towards Charing Cross. With every road towards the river seemingly closed, I ended up near Blackfriars Bridge. After about ten minutes walking up and down praying for a miracle, I settled on a very slight hill about ten metres from the riverbank. I couldn’t see a thing.  

You have to give it to the British people though, they love their Queen. The weather was nothing short of miserable. Yet crowds lined the Thames for hours, with at very least a flag, waiting to get a glimpse (and a glimpse is all that it would have been) of a family they have never met and, in reality, know very little about.

We patriotic crowd members kept warm by huddling together and not talking to each other with an impeccable politeness that can only be described as “British”.

We had a big screen in front of us, first showing historic footage of the Queen, and then cutting to live pictures of the Royal family getting on the boat up in Battersea.

First out of a Rolls-Royce were Charles and Camilla to light applause and some flag waving. The next car carried William and Kate along with a cheeky grinning Harry. This time loud applause and a warm fuzzy feeling as our minds were cast back to the Royal Wedding just over a year ago.

Then finally came the Queen, looking radiant in white, and joined by everyone’s favourite, but slightly racist Granddad, the Duke of Edinburgh. The crowd burst in to loud applause and what can only be described as vigorous flag waving. A young man with a trumpet belted out the national anthem and the crowd merrily sang along. People love Will and Kate, but on a day like today you can’t beat the top girl.

It took about an hour for the boats to reach my segment of the river. I didn’t have a clue when the smaller boats passed. Seeing those was too much even for my best tip-toeing view. But I could make out the Queen’s barge through the crowd as it erupted once again. And what’s more, through the flags and waving arms I could see a figure dressed in white waving to her loyal subjects (like me) on our side of the river.

My dream of an award winning picture was a stretch too far though. It was a 'hold your camera in the air and hope' situation. This was the result (these are the best)…

A boat big enough for me to see

"Can you see them? Can you see them?"

So were the hours in the horrendous weather for a restricted, momentary glimpse of a boat with an old lady on it, worth it?

Yes absolutely. Of course.

In the pub with my mate John afterwards I felt great – all warm inside. And there and then we agreed that if there was a tick-box in our employment contracts that said: “Do you want to make a contribution to help pay for the Royal family in the form of your tax return?” our answer would be unanimously, “Yes”.

I can’t think of another situation in our country that would bring out so many people with so much good feeling in the most awful of British weather. An election certainly wouldn’t. I’m proud to be British and I’m proud of the traditional dysfunctional family that represents us on a global stage. God save those royal blighters! Here Here.


Saturday, June 2, 2012

The marathon diaries - Milton Keynes

My initial reaction wasn’t to do another marathon. But when I went on the marathon photos website to look at my pictures for Brighton I noticed that they were covering the Milton Keynes Marathon on 29th April – two weeks after Brighton.

I don’t know why, but I clicked on the link. And before I really knew what I was doing I was emailing the race director to see if I could get in. To his credit, he replied promptly and said that he would extend the application deadline just for me.

The way I justified my actions was I had nothing to lose. The entry fee was £40, but I had just won on the national so this seemed like a good investment. I wanted to run a better race than Brighton. Well I had done all of the training, so why not try again soon? And if I wasn’t feeling up to it, I wouldn’t do it. And to avoid the pressure I wouldn’t tell loads of people about my plans.

As time passed, I felt less sore about Brighton. In fact, I started to think that for someone who had never run before and only trained for about three months, 4:06 was perfectly respectable. And it was taking longer to recover than expected. I tried a run a week after Brighton and felt so awful I walked the last two miles.

Still I thought I would have nothing to lose by showing up on the MK start line and giving it a go.

The MK Marathon
That was before the rain. For the week leading up to the Milton Keynes Marathon it rained continuously. I arrived at my brother’s the night before and it was relentless. I remember trying to sleep but just hearing the howling wind and rain hammer against the window above my head.

We checked the MK marathon Facebook page and the organisers were adamant that it would take place, even if they had to change some of the route at the last moment due to flooding.

We drove to Milton Keynes and got there just in time for the start. As I’ve learnt is always the case at these events, I quickly relieved myself behind some bushes and joined the start line right at the back. Freezing cold and wet, my ambition was to get round rather than run an amazing time. And if I didn’t get round, well I wasn’t going to give myself a hard time about it. It was biblical.

The MK marathon was very different to Brighton. It was around the ‘redways’ – a network of cycling and running paths that run through the parkland and forests that surround Milton Keynes, before finishing in the football stadium. This meant it was extremely wet and muddy. Many parts of the course were flooded, meaning you would have to run round the path on the mud. It reminded me of the Longsands Cross Country.

I started at a steady pace, trying to dodge the slower people who I had been at the back with. And I gradually increased my pace as I got to about eight miles. According to my watch, which I had purchased especially for this occasion, I ran the first half in just under 2:04 minutes, making a four hour marathon extremely unlikely. But I wasn’t disappointed. Under the conditions, I was delighted to have got that far.

The second half of the race obviously got more difficult as I got more tired and more wet. After Brighton, I was expecting to fall apart at any moment when I reached 18 miles. But it didn’t happen. At about 20, I found a pacer who I kept pace with for the next four miles. Still feeling strong, I quickened my pace and left him behind.

The marathon comes out of the parkland in the last mile and heads towards and then inside the stadium, finishing alongside the pitch. I finished as strong as I started. In 4:08 minutes. That was two nearly identical halves.

I was delighted, with no hint of disappointed this time. It didn’t matter that I didn’t do it under four hours. And it didn’t matter that it was slower than Brighton. I was delighted that I ran every step of the way at a consistent pace in the most trying conditions. I couldn’t imagine managing my race any better or finishing it any quicker.

Like last time, Stephen was there to meet me (a little late), load me up with McDonalds and take me home (including carrying me up to my front door).


In reflection
In hindsight, two marathons in two weeks was probably a bit over the top. And I’m not sure I would do it again. Recovery the second time was definitely more difficult and two weeks later, I’m still not feeling 100 percent.

But I’m glad I did it. I enjoyed Brighton most and with my mother and uncle doing it as well it will go down in family history as one of the best days ever.  And with Milton Keynes, I am proud of running a good marathon in extremely difficult conditions that would have added minutes (approx. 9) to my time. I put the Brighton demons to bed. On top of all that, I raised nearly £1000 for my mum’s charity (thank you everyone).

And what next? Well amazingly, I got a place at the New York Marathon. This time I want to train slightly longer and break four hours. And once I have done that, I may well retire.

The marathon diaries - Brighton

My mum picked me and my two litre bottle of water up on the Saturday before the marathon to take me to Brighton. I mention the water, because it seems I had over-hydrated, which had my mum pulling over a couple of times on the way so I could water the bushes on the side of the road. We met my uncle, registered and then went to my auntie’s where the rest of my family were staying to load up on carbs. 

My uncle, mum and I stayed in an apartment about 20 miles outside of Brighton to avoid sleeping on the floor. Despite this, I hardly slept a wink that night, such were my nerves (and some mysterious noises echoing through the apartment kept me awake – thanks mum).

In true Webster/Stephens style we got there just in time on race day. I lined up in my start area and once again found I had over-hydrated. This is definitely something to learn from next time. This time I leapt over a barrier to water the bushes metres before the start line.

The run
I set off at a brisk pace. And despite my lack of sleep, I felt great. As I reached seven miles I could see the four hour pacer in the distance who had started about eight minutes in front of me. By 11 miles, I was passed him and crossed the halfway points in about 1:52.

Before I started the marathon I had no real idea how quickly I could do it. But it was evident at halfway that I had cracked it. I was a natural. I was going to do it in about 3:45.

By mile 17, when I saw my family on the side of the road, I was still feeling strong and confident (as you will see from the picture). All the training had been worth it. I was motoring.



But at about mile 19 things changed in a matter of moments. I just felt like I couldn’t go on. I believe they call this the wall. I tried smashing through it, but my pace slowed so much that people started overtaking me at an alarming rate. My adulation went to despair. I thought I had messed it up. I went from thinking about 3:45 to 5:45. This was crazy, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I thought it was all over.

I struggled on for the next two-three miles, but at a much slower pace and still with lots of people overtaking me.

But at mile 23 my perspective changed again. The four hour pacer that I had passed about 12 miles ago passed me.  I tried to keep up with him, but to no avail. But rather than disheartening me, this was a positive moment. I realised that I hadn’t lost loads of time. I still had the chance to finish around the four hour mark.

With an extra impetus, I struggled through the last three miles and crossed the finish line in 4:06 to my brother’s applause.

I was exhausted. Dead on my feet. And despite feeling amazing about finishing (even a little tearful), I couldn’t help feel a little disappointed about falling away so badly at the end. I felt like I was fit enough to run sub four hours, but poor race management had let me down.

Someone said once that ten percent of your life is determined by the things that happen to you and 90 percent is determined by how you react. Well I was about to react….

The marathon diaries - training


I have just run two marathons in the space of two weeks. It wasn’t the plan. But it is what happened. And here I will tell that story…
In the beginning

It all started in my grandparents’ front room. I was minding my own business and eating some chocolate fingers my nan had bought me. Very nice they were too. And my mum was talking her usual nonsense, this time about doing the Brighton Marathon for her charity, Dementia UK.

My uncle, often keen to take on a challenge, said he would love to do it as well. Having just turned 50, he was looking for a new challenge.

I have no idea what possessed him, but he then said: “And I’m sure Andrew will want to do it too, he’s the youngest and fittest out of all of us.”

Well that was it. With my family’s gaze upon me I was signed up to the Brighton Marathon in a little over three months.

The training regime
I’ve always played sport, mostly football and golf and a bit of cycling more recently. But I have never been a runner. My maximum, before this whole ordeal, was about 20 minutes on a treadmill at the end of a very rare gym session. I can only recall going on one run before starting my training. And running a marathon was not something I had ever seriously considered.

I let Christmas get out of the way first, using it as a last opportunity to stuff my face guilt free. And then on a cold and quiet day I decided to venture out for my first run wearing my football kit and £18 trainers I bought in India about nine years ago. 

The route was just less than five miles. And despite pretending I needed to look at a map at a bus stop half way round to give myself a rest, I got there.

The next run didn’t go so well. I got a mile down the road and decided I really wasn’t ready for this and turned back.

But surprisingly, that didn’t deter me.  I managed to get into a routine. Nothing silly, just three runs a week sometimes substituted by a football match and sometimes in addition to one. I started off with five mile runs and stuck pretty closely to the training programme I had signed up to through a training plan website that is still sending me daily emails saying ‘how was your run today?’ (PISS OFF!)

By the time I went to America on holiday in February I was up to about ten miles. And America was a good boost because it was warm and I got to feel good about myself as I ran over the Golden Gate Bridge with the San Fran mums (even though that was a horrific experience – it looks far more serene in pictures).

Stepping up the committment
With six-eight weeks to go disaster struck. I got an injury. My regime was such that I didn’t have time to waste. But I couldn’t put proper weight on my right leg when I ran. I nursed myself to fitness by using a death trap contraption known as a ‘cross trainer’ in the gym.

But I decided this warranted a greater commitment to the cause. It was time to have my gait analysed and buy some trainers that actually fitted me. The man in the shop (obviously qualified medical practitioner) said he thought it was my Achilles that was giving me a problem. But some extortionately priced trainers should help, especially by supporting my over-pronating left leg. I paid the man without asking too many questions. 

The final preparations
With my new trainers and my leg feeling much better I embarked on my long runs in the build up to the marathon. After a disastrous day dodging shoppers on Chiswick High Street, I decided to do these along the canal.

First I did 14 miles, then 16, then 18 and finally 20. Although they were gruelling days that I would dread in the days leading up to them, I did the mileage with two weeks to go before the big day. I also have Keith Richards to thank. His audio autobiography got me through some dark dark times.

Speaking of dark times, it was on these long runs that I learnt the hard way about the need for a big tub of Vaseline. On the 16 miler it started hammering down with rain about eight miles away from home. By the time I finished, my sodden erect nipples were bleeding to the extent that they stained my white shirt. I had bought an industrial size pot of the lubricant by the time I went on my next run.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The English in Tallahassee

Tallahassee is the city of the motor car. Not in an unpleasant way, but more in a practical way.
It doesn’t have a particularly large population at 200,000. But with a limitless amount of space around that city, it has stretched its legs and spread over a huge area.

This means that daily amenities and shops have taken the liberty of having a bit of space. Why not?

The High Street is an alien concept in Tallahassee, so is the city centre. Instead each shop, restaurant and supermarket is an independent site with car park and a large florescent sign that hangs into the road making its existence unmistakable to passing drivers – Burger King, Best Buy, Publix. There are even drive-thru banks meaning there is seldom a need to leave your car.

The roads these shops and banks border aren’t busy as such. But they do have 3-4 lanes going in each direction. In the UK that equates to the biggest motorways in the country. But they don’t feel quite the same here. They have lower speed limits and are split by intermittent cross roads. (I don’t know what’s wrong with a roundabout)? Crossing six lanes to get to KFC isn’t for the faint hearted.

What this adds up to is that pedestrians are a rare sighting -rarer than some of the world’s rarest birds. I went for a 10 mile run yesterday and saw a maximum of seven people on the footpath. Admittedly this was heading out of town (passing a Burger King and McDonalds), but it wasn’t the countryside.

This doesn’t make Tallahassee unpleasant. The roads aren’t particularly busy. It’s green, the skies are blue and it’s quiet. But it does make it a little bit impractical. And the fluorescent lights give it a garish capitalist feel at times.

Eating in Tallahasse
Eating in Tallahasse is a joy. Especially, if like me, you like meat, huge portions and fast food.
We wanted to do the Super Bowl properly. So we tried to order some ribs from Piggy’s Rib Shack before the game. But by 5pm they had already sold out for the evening. So we headed to KFC instead to get some takeaway.

There are lots of questions when you go to KFC in America. Do you want light or dark meat? Do you want original recipe, grilled or extra crispy? What sides do you want?

Also, you don’t get any chips. Instead you get a biscuit. Or what I would call a scone. I have no idea what you’re meant to do with this scone, especially as they don’t give you any jam, clotted cream or tea. They do give you macaroni cheese as a side though, with a yellow Kraft cheese sauce. That’s right up my street.

Tallahassee compliments its food with a rich array of beverage, often served in a ‘thirst buster’ - a 1.5litre cup with straw. We were in the Mall the other day and I wanted a health boost. So I went to buy a smoothie. Just fruity goodness I thought. But when I watched the man behind the counter make it, I noticed a big scoop of white granules being poured into my cup. I racked my brains. But all I could come up with was that this was sugar. Surely not? I decided it was best not to ask, which was difficult as it was sweeter than any raspberries I’ve ever had.

Luckily Jenna has found herself a cooperative supermarket – New Leaf. They care about the community and the food they sell in there. It’s all organic or free range or something similar. But caring so much about the food means they are reluctant to let it go – it costs more than most of the meals that are sold in the florescent light establishments on the side of the road.

The Wildlife of Tallahassee
Tallahassee is located in the inland heart of Florida. This means that nature is on its doorstep.
Just 30 minutes outside of Tallahassee is Wakulla Springs. This Springs is home to some beautiful birds that would never venture as far as the UK and the water is home to alligators, turtles and manatee.

We had a boat tour from a larger than life character with a deep southern accent: “Yesss sir, that there is an alligatorrrr.” He was brilliant and so was the boat ride.

Two hours outside of Tallahassee and you reach the Gulf Coast. After driving through forests for a while you hit the coastal road which looks out over an endless sea horizon scattered with swooping pelicans. They’re my favorite.

We visited St Georges Island, 5-6 miles off the mainland. It has long sandy beaches and is pretty much empty apart from lavish beach houses.

But if you’re thinking you get there by ferry then think again. 5-6 miles over rough sea is no deterrent to building a bridge in America…

“Brad, I know we’ve got all of this space over here in Florida, but how are we going to get across to that small island so we can build on it? Shall we get a ferry over there?”

“No Cody. Don’t be silly. Let’s just fill the see with concrete and build the biggest flyover known to man.”

When comparing this to the UK we came up with the Solent that splits the Isle of Wight from the UK. A bridge across the Solent would be nothing short of savage.

Two worlds collide
The problem with all this nature and all of these roads is that sometimes they collide. And in the case of America this means a collision with a mechanical atrocity called an SUV. I think they have 8 wheels as standard.

Driving back to Tallahassee from the Gulf in the pitch black we suddenly noticed a big black lump on the road with dashes of red. It was a bear. A bear that had clearly just been hit by the car in front.

There was nothing we could do. We just careered over it. It was so big our car left the ground. But miraculously there was no (visible) damage. Sadly, we can’t say the same for the bear.

Can you imagine that? Running over a bear? This place is crazy.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Review of 2011

A lot of people on Facebook are raving about 2011. I want to be a bit more considered than that – as you will see below. I would describe it as a funny old year. It ended much better than it started with a magical Christmas. And hopefully it laid the groundwork for a better 2012 – finally getting somewhere at work, marathon in the pipeline, driving lessons in full flow and a luxury holiday to the States booked.


Anyway, in time honoured tradition, here are my resolutions for 2012 and my review for 2011.


Resolutions

1) Run a marathon
2) Pass my driving test
3) Get promoted
4) Break 76
5) Become a photographer
6) Go on an adventure
7) Blog and tweet
8) Learn to play 100 new songs on the guitar
9) Save money
10) Have a better work/life balance

You may notice some similarities to last year.

Review

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
- Raised £1000 for charity
- Cycled round the Isle of Wight
- Visited Norway
- Cycled round Normandy and Brittany
- Hiked Hadrian’s Wall
- Won on the Grand National
- Flew a kite on the beech
- Climbed Mount Snowdon


2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I made ten resolutions last year. I didn’t do that well. But maybe a little better than the year before. I have returned to football and put in some good performances. I wouldn’t say that I am amazingly fit. I haven’t been promoted which has been a constant source of frustration, but hopefully that will happen soon. And I have done some good stuff at work. I haven’t passed my driving test, but at least I am learning again. I did shoot 78 round Oakwood golf course. I have had guitar lessons and I am definitely getting better. I haven’t written a book. I have blogged a reasonable amount including about my cycle ride in France. I have been there for my family and feel better for it. I am sometimes on time.

New resolutions above. They are quite similar to last year’s.


3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No


4. Did anyone close to you die?
No


5. What countries did you visit?
Last year I said I would never go back to the Netherlands because bad things happen there. I went back to the Netherlands. Bad things happened.

Apart from that, I visited Wales, France and Norway.


6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
- A more healthy lifestyle
- More contentment with where I am in my career
- I would love to say Sky Sports but I think that is one for 2013


7. What date from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I don’t remember the date, but Stevie and Kate getting married was the most significant day of the year. It was brilliant to see two close friends so happy to be getting married. We celebrated with an adequate amount of drunken merriment. Jessica Rudkin put in an award winning performance.” Fuck them shoes!”


8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
My bike ride to France. Going on my own, completely unprepared and with no plan was liberating. It was the best thing I did all year. I loved it. The charity bike rides were good too, as was the hike along Hadrian’s Wall.


9. What was your biggest failure?
I have been frustrated with my progress at work for a lot of the year, so I think that is my biggest failure. I also eat rubbish and need to look after myself better. I also need to be a better friend sometimes.


10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No. And the knee feels much better.


11. What was the best thing you bought?
I haven’t bought very much at all this year. I would say the scalextric I bought my brother for Christmas. That is a great present if I do say so myself.


12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
- Emad Nadim’s general behaviour always warrants celebration
- Stevie and Kate for getting married
- My mum has been pretty remarkable this year


13.Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
There were a lot of morons in the Priory in St Neots the day. David Cameron gets on my nerves.


14.Where did most of your money go?
Rent and debt. Depressing.


15.What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Christmas. Stephen hosted. We saw all of our closest family in a matter of days. We made a nice video for Jenna. It was a transformation from last year. It was the best Christmas for many years.


16.What song will always remind you of 2010?
I’ve racked my brains and there isn’t one.


17.Compared to this time last year,
I. are you happier or sadder?

Happier

II. thinner or fatter?
About the same

III. richer or poorer?
Poorer


18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
- Played golf
- Eaten green things
- Saved my money
- Kept in touch with important people


19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
- Eaten pizza and chicken
- Felt less self conscious/unsure of what I am doing


20. Did you fall in love in 2010?
No


21. How many one-night stands?
None


22. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No


23. What was the best book you read?
One Day. That hits you right between the eyes. Closely followed by Cloud Atlas.


24. What was your greatest musical discovery?
The Vaccines are cool. Wretch 32 and Example have a catchy song. I like Coldplay’s new album. Noely G never lets you down.


25. What did you want and get?
My Dad gave me all of his cameras which was nice.


26. What did you want and not get?
A digital clock radio that wakes you up by recreating sunlight. I’ve wanted one for a number of years now.


27. What was your favorite film of this year?

The Inbetweeners film. Or Arthur. Russell Brand was genius in that.


28. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 28. It was a low key affair at ‘The Diner’ in Kensal Rise. Stevie and Kate bought me some nice gloves. I had a big chocolate milkshake and a burger. Perfect.


29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A long holiday
Promotion


30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
Retro – as in I didn’t buy any clothes all year so there was a lot of recycling. I just bought some stuff in the sales. The theme has been cheque. I think that’s ‘in’. I could be wrong.


31. What kept you sane?
Emad Nadim. I couldn’t go on without him.


32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I’m rubbish at this. I rarely fancy famous people.


33. What political issue stirred you the most?
I think David Cameron’s decision to veto the European treaty was a little bit silly. I’m also stirred by the lack of leadership in the Labour party. I want them to get me angry this year and make me believe they are capable of taking on the Tories.


34. Who did you miss?
- The Pakistani family
- Family
- I’ve not seen Nick Howard this year. It would be good to see him at some point. Cheeky little bastard


35. Who was the best new person you met?
People at work… and some others…


36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:
It’s easy to take the most important things for granted.