Both little ones are asleep.
Sssshhhhh.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Time to move on from the Henry travesty
Perhaps it's time to move on.
Thierry Henry cheated and France progress to the World Cup and nothing is going to change that.
A small nation rages against the mighty, but M. Henry cheated and France progress and nothing will change that.
We will move on, but we will not forget.
Henry cheated and France progress.
Maintain the rage.
Thierry Henry cheated and France progress to the World Cup and nothing is going to change that.
A small nation rages against the mighty, but M. Henry cheated and France progress and nothing will change that.
We will move on, but we will not forget.
Henry cheated and France progress.
Maintain the rage.
Henry fesses up - sort of
Thierry Henry feigns contrition, but is still not man enough to admit what the whole world knows to be true, his countrymen included, that he twice deliberately controlled the ball with his hand before passing to William Gallas for the winning goal.
Henry endures a vicious backlash globally, from the US to Australia, from Ireland to India, in Spain where he plays club football and at home in France.
He fears for a reputation and a brand that have been irreparably damaged.
Henry endures a vicious backlash globally, from the US to Australia, from Ireland to India, in Spain where he plays club football and at home in France.
He fears for a reputation and a brand that have been irreparably damaged.
Friday, November 20, 2009
It's not just a game
The English writer Terry Pratchett said that "The thing about football, the important thing about football, is that it is not about football."
Football is a game and it is more than just a game. It is global, it is tribal. It unites and it divides. It is base and it is poetry. It is waiting for that divine moment when one man transcends reality and makes us cry out with joy or despair.
It brings out the best in people. It brings out the worst.
Football is human. Football matters.
Football is a game and it is more than just a game. It is global, it is tribal. It unites and it divides. It is base and it is poetry. It is waiting for that divine moment when one man transcends reality and makes us cry out with joy or despair.
It brings out the best in people. It brings out the worst.
Football is human. Football matters.
Thierry Henry is a cheat
Thierry Henry has brought eternal shame to himself, to France and to football.
I have always admired Les Bleus and cheered for them in every World Cup, but never again.
We have a new baby, a beautiful little girl called Aisling. She was born at 1:28am, in the Royal Hospital for Women in Randwick. The birth was relatively straightforward and quick as births go (though I'd rather face an Ironman). She was instantly alert and soon having breakfast. Sharon was amazing and was sitting up in bed a few minutes after little miss arived, chatting away and cradling her newest treasure.
Aisling weighted 3.675kg and was 54cm long, with a beautiful round little 35cm head.
Cillian has been remarkbly good with her and daily becomes more interested in the baby.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sydney Marathon, 20 September 2009
Dressed to kill, she wears a slinky floral dress and black high heels that clack along the sun spattered pavement as she runs past me, struggling to keep up with her fast walking, sharp suited partner.
It should bother me that I have been overtaken by this couple, but I am past caring. I am walking down Hickson Road, under the Harbour Bridge and I can see the ferries on the diamond dappled harbour, pottering in and out of Circular Quay. There, at last, is the Opera House where my journey will finish, down among the fluttering flags and cheering crowds and a pumped up announcer calling home the marathon finishers.
The day started in Milson's Point, on the other side of the harbour. Naoko Takahashi, the women's gold medallist marathoner at the 2000 Olympics fired the gun to send us on our way, first the wheelchair athletes, then the rest of us. I stood towards the front of the first self seeded group, behind the elites and close to the 3 hour pacers. Not that I had any intention of staying with them. My plan was simply to start a little ahead of the 3:15 pace group, then run slightly above that pace for a few kilometres, before tucking in with the 3:15ers as they ran past. After that, I would see.
They caught me less than 2kms into the run, still on the Bridge and their pace was too strong for me, though perplexingly I was running at 3:15 pace. I was determined however to be more conservative than I had been at the Canberra marathon and I let them go. I later found out that their plan was to have a 3 minute buffer by 30 kms.
I didn't really expect to achieve a sub 3:15 today. I didn't know what to expect, for I was not quite over a tummy bug that dropped me on Thursday. I had to leave work early, feeling quite awful and by the afternoon, I couldn't have run 10 metres, never mind a marathon. On Friday I had improved and was able to do some speed work, but only from the dining room to the bathroom. A 20 minute run on Saturday left me feeling weak, so naturally I decided to race the following day.
So, I let the pacers go as we headed off the bridge into the city, the Domain and a warm Spring morning. I eased off on the inclines, but felt reasonably good, though not fresh.
Oxford Street was subdued with most of the revellers seemingly in bed nursing their hangovers.
In Centennial Park, I struck up a conversation with a Canadian called Joe. Joe hails from Alberta and had arrived in Sydney on holiday just the day before and only then found out about the marathon. "This way," he said, "I can eat and drink whatever I like for the rest of the trip. He figured that he would do around 3:20.
At this point, I was probably a minute off 3:15 pace. It began to feel just a little fast and already my hip flexors bothered me. It occured to me then that a negative split was unlikely.
We ran along Anzac Parade and into Alison Road, past the race track and the Malaysian Community Centre where the faithful sang praise for the end of Ramadan. At the turnaround I saw Darren and Joanne and they give me a big cheer and a big lift.
Back onto Anzac Parade and Joe and I ran through the halfway point together, which I clocked at 1:38:30, still just a minute off 3:15 pace.
Joe dropped me on a slight incline turning into Dacey Avenue and up a slight incline and . Its not that he sped up, there just wasn't not much in my legs. Another u-turn and down to Anzac Parade again, a cheer from John Hill and back towards the city.
It was pretty flat since entering Centennial Park, but in the city hills appeared and Joe, who hadn't gained on me on the flat, is now nowhere to be seen. I felt like I had nothing in my legs. I couldn't even run downhill fast. At 23km I stared at my pacing wristband and felt a wave of dizziness. By 27km I realized that I have slowed by about a minute a km, but I couldn't raise my pace. There was even a hill on the approach to the Glebe Island Bridge, that I never remembered seeing before.
At the 30km aid station I collected my bottle of Red Bull, with a picture of Cillian flagging it. His cute little face lifts my spirits. The drink went down quickly, but didn't help. I wasn't really running anymore, just shuffling. It occurred to me that I should start walking through the aid stations, something I've only ever done once, even at Ironman, but even that proved too much. At the 32km marker I started to walk.
Juan was out near the turnaround. He listened sympathetically and encouraged me to keep going. He's off to Kona soon, and was spectating for marathon day.
I attempted to run at 33km, but it didn't last long. I tried again further along on a downhill stretch and lasted a little longer, but then the Immodium wore off and I also felt a bit light headed, so I walked, filling my bottle at every aid station and visiting a portaloo each time.
Robert, pacing the 4:00 pack, ran past and exhorted me to come along. I tried, but I couldn't so I walked again.
I cannot even walk fast, maybe making a km every 12 minutes and a woman in heels trots past me on Hickson Road.
But now I can see the finish. I team up with another walker who has been feeling nauseous and we travel the last couple of klicks together, raising a trot for the terrific finish line crowd and the cameras.
4:38:55. It's done, I'm done.
----
I'm not disappointed, I did my best. Perhaps I shouldn't have started and I probably won't if faced with the same circumstances again. Maybe Ironman vets can get a little blase about any race that takes less time than the working day, but the marathon is hard and it deserves profound respect. I relearned that respect this morning and again this afternoon as my blood pressure dropped suddenly; tunnel vision, tingly lips and rapid breathing. No doubt for the days and weeks to come will hammer the lesson home. Yet, just like Ironman, the marathon is a siren and I know I will be back, searching for that perfect race, even for just that one perfect moment, where I run with grace, unthinking, unheeding, but aware of everything.
Some stats:
5km - 22:40
10km - 23:55
15km - 23:40
20km - 23:04
21.1 - 1:38:30
25km - ?
30km - 51.25
42.2km 2:14:11
1st half: 1:38:30
2nd half: 3:00:25
Joe finished in 3:25.
Images from http://www.sydneyrunningfestival.com.au.
It should bother me that I have been overtaken by this couple, but I am past caring. I am walking down Hickson Road, under the Harbour Bridge and I can see the ferries on the diamond dappled harbour, pottering in and out of Circular Quay. There, at last, is the Opera House where my journey will finish, down among the fluttering flags and cheering crowds and a pumped up announcer calling home the marathon finishers.
The day started in Milson's Point, on the other side of the harbour. Naoko Takahashi, the women's gold medallist marathoner at the 2000 Olympics fired the gun to send us on our way, first the wheelchair athletes, then the rest of us. I stood towards the front of the first self seeded group, behind the elites and close to the 3 hour pacers. Not that I had any intention of staying with them. My plan was simply to start a little ahead of the 3:15 pace group, then run slightly above that pace for a few kilometres, before tucking in with the 3:15ers as they ran past. After that, I would see.
They caught me less than 2kms into the run, still on the Bridge and their pace was too strong for me, though perplexingly I was running at 3:15 pace. I was determined however to be more conservative than I had been at the Canberra marathon and I let them go. I later found out that their plan was to have a 3 minute buffer by 30 kms.
I didn't really expect to achieve a sub 3:15 today. I didn't know what to expect, for I was not quite over a tummy bug that dropped me on Thursday. I had to leave work early, feeling quite awful and by the afternoon, I couldn't have run 10 metres, never mind a marathon. On Friday I had improved and was able to do some speed work, but only from the dining room to the bathroom. A 20 minute run on Saturday left me feeling weak, so naturally I decided to race the following day.
So, I let the pacers go as we headed off the bridge into the city, the Domain and a warm Spring morning. I eased off on the inclines, but felt reasonably good, though not fresh.
Oxford Street was subdued with most of the revellers seemingly in bed nursing their hangovers.
In Centennial Park, I struck up a conversation with a Canadian called Joe. Joe hails from Alberta and had arrived in Sydney on holiday just the day before and only then found out about the marathon. "This way," he said, "I can eat and drink whatever I like for the rest of the trip. He figured that he would do around 3:20.
At this point, I was probably a minute off 3:15 pace. It began to feel just a little fast and already my hip flexors bothered me. It occured to me then that a negative split was unlikely.
We ran along Anzac Parade and into Alison Road, past the race track and the Malaysian Community Centre where the faithful sang praise for the end of Ramadan. At the turnaround I saw Darren and Joanne and they give me a big cheer and a big lift.
Back onto Anzac Parade and Joe and I ran through the halfway point together, which I clocked at 1:38:30, still just a minute off 3:15 pace.
Joe dropped me on a slight incline turning into Dacey Avenue and up a slight incline and . Its not that he sped up, there just wasn't not much in my legs. Another u-turn and down to Anzac Parade again, a cheer from John Hill and back towards the city.
It was pretty flat since entering Centennial Park, but in the city hills appeared and Joe, who hadn't gained on me on the flat, is now nowhere to be seen. I felt like I had nothing in my legs. I couldn't even run downhill fast. At 23km I stared at my pacing wristband and felt a wave of dizziness. By 27km I realized that I have slowed by about a minute a km, but I couldn't raise my pace. There was even a hill on the approach to the Glebe Island Bridge, that I never remembered seeing before.
At the 30km aid station I collected my bottle of Red Bull, with a picture of Cillian flagging it. His cute little face lifts my spirits. The drink went down quickly, but didn't help. I wasn't really running anymore, just shuffling. It occurred to me that I should start walking through the aid stations, something I've only ever done once, even at Ironman, but even that proved too much. At the 32km marker I started to walk.
Juan was out near the turnaround. He listened sympathetically and encouraged me to keep going. He's off to Kona soon, and was spectating for marathon day.
I attempted to run at 33km, but it didn't last long. I tried again further along on a downhill stretch and lasted a little longer, but then the Immodium wore off and I also felt a bit light headed, so I walked, filling my bottle at every aid station and visiting a portaloo each time.
Robert, pacing the 4:00 pack, ran past and exhorted me to come along. I tried, but I couldn't so I walked again.
I cannot even walk fast, maybe making a km every 12 minutes and a woman in heels trots past me on Hickson Road.
But now I can see the finish. I team up with another walker who has been feeling nauseous and we travel the last couple of klicks together, raising a trot for the terrific finish line crowd and the cameras.
4:38:55. It's done, I'm done.
----
I'm not disappointed, I did my best. Perhaps I shouldn't have started and I probably won't if faced with the same circumstances again. Maybe Ironman vets can get a little blase about any race that takes less time than the working day, but the marathon is hard and it deserves profound respect. I relearned that respect this morning and again this afternoon as my blood pressure dropped suddenly; tunnel vision, tingly lips and rapid breathing. No doubt for the days and weeks to come will hammer the lesson home. Yet, just like Ironman, the marathon is a siren and I know I will be back, searching for that perfect race, even for just that one perfect moment, where I run with grace, unthinking, unheeding, but aware of everything.
Some stats:
5km - 22:40
10km - 23:55
15km - 23:40
20km - 23:04
21.1 - 1:38:30
25km - ?
30km - 51.25
42.2km 2:14:11
1st half: 1:38:30
2nd half: 3:00:25
Joe finished in 3:25.
Images from http://www.sydneyrunningfestival.com.au.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Has it been so long since I posted here? I was supposed to write up my experience at the Canberra marathon in April, but now its September and its the day before the Sydney marathon.
I was hoping to go sub 3:15 at this race, but I've had some sort of gastro/tummy bug and have not been feeling terribly good.
I feel much improved today, but a 20 minute run left me feeling a little weak.
Still, I will line up tomorrow at 7:15.
Its a big day of running with over 33,000 people signed on for the 4km family fun run, the 9km run, the half and full marathon.
Each run starts at Milson's Point, crosses the Harbour Bridge and eventually finishes at the Opera House. Spectacular.
I was hoping to go sub 3:15 at this race, but I've had some sort of gastro/tummy bug and have not been feeling terribly good.
I feel much improved today, but a 20 minute run left me feeling a little weak.
Still, I will line up tomorrow at 7:15.
Its a big day of running with over 33,000 people signed on for the 4km family fun run, the 9km run, the half and full marathon.
Each run starts at Milson's Point, crosses the Harbour Bridge and eventually finishes at the Opera House. Spectacular.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Tiny dancer
Cillian started dancing yesterday. The little legs pump up and down and he turns in circles. You just have to ask him to dance and off he goes. We're trying to get him to shake his arms and wiggle his bum, but he likes his own version.
Its easy to remember the major milestones like walking and talking, but its the constant litle things that he learns to do that is really amazing and fun.
Like dancing, like having a go at the hand actions to Itsy Bitsy Spider, blowing kisses ans sticking out his tongue if you ask him where his tongue is. All learned his weekend.
Its easy to remember the major milestones like walking and talking, but its the constant litle things that he learns to do that is really amazing and fun.
Like dancing, like having a go at the hand actions to Itsy Bitsy Spider, blowing kisses ans sticking out his tongue if you ask him where his tongue is. All learned his weekend.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The old shell game
Last week I added a couple of entries to the folder options that you see when you right click on a folder in Windows on both my work and home computers.
One was for printing folder contents, another was for the command prompt.
I did this through the Control Panel->Folder Options->File Types, the selecting File Folder and hitting the Advanced button.
I am running Windows XP Professional v5.1 in both work and home.
Works a treat, except I found that afterwards on my work pc, everytime I double clicked on a folder in the right hand pane of the windows explorer I got a search box, rather than the folder opening. On my home laptop I got a command prompt box opening up.
It seems that adding these entries to the Folder Options somehow screwed up the registry for shell32.dll, which has among other things the task of keeping track how to open folders and files.
The solution was to re-register the dll. From Start->Run:
regsvr32 /i shell32.dll
That's it.
One was for printing folder contents, another was for the command prompt.
I did this through the Control Panel->Folder Options->File Types, the selecting File Folder and hitting the Advanced button.
I am running Windows XP Professional v5.1 in both work and home.
Works a treat, except I found that afterwards on my work pc, everytime I double clicked on a folder in the right hand pane of the windows explorer I got a search box, rather than the folder opening. On my home laptop I got a command prompt box opening up.
It seems that adding these entries to the Folder Options somehow screwed up the registry for shell32.dll, which has among other things the task of keeping track how to open folders and files.
The solution was to re-register the dll. From Start->Run:
regsvr32 /i shell32.dll
That's it.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Oh Ruby
This week I attended an excellent four day training course by SpringSource on Core Spring. I've touched on Spring before, so time time ago I decided it was time to book myself on a course and get into it in a bit more detail. The timing was fortuitous since I have been seconded to another team that makes extensive use of use of this interesting technology.
While in North Sydney I took the opportunity to visit an excellent technical bookshop called Bookware. Its cheaper to buy from them any of the city bookstores, cheaper even than getting the books through Amazon and paying their shipping costs.
Its on Arthur St and camouflaged by building site hordings, but it was worth the effort in finding it. Small and overflowing with Business, Marketing but chiefly computing books.
Anyway, I bought a book on Spring Web Flow, but couldn't resist picking up a Pragmatic Programmers book on Ruby, called Agile Web Development with Rails. Cool, been meaning to look at this for ages (in between work, running, guitar, balloons and a baby).
I get the book home and start reading only to discover that there is a new version of Rails out and the book is the the old one, but the latest edition of the book is not available yet, except in pdf format. I don't want to shell out again, so I'll stick with what I've got.
Ok so the book pretty quickly cuts to the chase and in no time I'm downloading Ruby. The book directs you to some one stop shop installer that doesn't seem to have been updated in about 2 years, so I just download Ruby and run hte install, selecting a gem checkbox along the way. Done.
Next to install rails with gem done.
Then Mysql. Ok, some problem with a port and maybe a firwall, will check it out later.
Onto the coding. A Hello World program in Ruby. Cool.
Except now the problems start.
Instead of getting the 'Template is Missing' error the book says is likely I get a message like this:
> MissingSourceFile in SayController#hello
>
> no such file to load -- sqlite3
It turns out that you need a database to run hello world. No mention of that in the tutorial.
Ok so I down load Sqlite3, both the exe and dll zips and place the location on the path.
I then install sqlite 3 using gem. But it seems that the current version of gem or sqlite3 or both has a bug and you have to install sqlite3 version 1.2.3.
I do that (stopping and starting the WEBrick server every time).
Next a Runtime Error - can't find sqlite3.dll.
Come on. Its there. Its on the path.
Its late, I can't be bothered fighting the machine, so I reboot, restart and get 'Hello from Rails!' in my browser.
That's the longest its ever taken me to get Hello World up and running.
Browsing the various forums indicates that I'm far from being the only one.
The premise of Ruby on Rails is that it is simple to build web sites. The inference is that you don't have to be an uber nerd to learn this language and framework. The Pragmatic Programmer's books are always easy to read and motivational. I know that the book is targeted at an older version of rails, but still, it didn't help. Hopefully the rest will be a bit smoother and of course, solving these problems will enhance my understanding.
Or drive me mad and cause me to abandon this little project.
Pressing on...
While in North Sydney I took the opportunity to visit an excellent technical bookshop called Bookware. Its cheaper to buy from them any of the city bookstores, cheaper even than getting the books through Amazon and paying their shipping costs.
Its on Arthur St and camouflaged by building site hordings, but it was worth the effort in finding it. Small and overflowing with Business, Marketing but chiefly computing books.
Anyway, I bought a book on Spring Web Flow, but couldn't resist picking up a Pragmatic Programmers book on Ruby, called Agile Web Development with Rails. Cool, been meaning to look at this for ages (in between work, running, guitar, balloons and a baby).
I get the book home and start reading only to discover that there is a new version of Rails out and the book is the the old one, but the latest edition of the book is not available yet, except in pdf format. I don't want to shell out again, so I'll stick with what I've got.
Ok so the book pretty quickly cuts to the chase and in no time I'm downloading Ruby. The book directs you to some one stop shop installer that doesn't seem to have been updated in about 2 years, so I just download Ruby and run hte install, selecting a gem checkbox along the way. Done.
Next to install rails with gem done.
Then Mysql. Ok, some problem with a port and maybe a firwall, will check it out later.
Onto the coding. A Hello World program in Ruby. Cool.
Except now the problems start.
Instead of getting the 'Template is Missing' error the book says is likely I get a message like this:
> MissingSourceFile in SayController#hello
>
> no such file to load -- sqlite3
It turns out that you need a database to run hello world. No mention of that in the tutorial.
Ok so I down load Sqlite3, both the exe and dll zips and place the location on the path.
I then install sqlite 3 using gem. But it seems that the current version of gem or sqlite3 or both has a bug and you have to install sqlite3 version 1.2.3.
I do that (stopping and starting the WEBrick server every time).
Next a Runtime Error - can't find sqlite3.dll.
Come on. Its there. Its on the path.
Its late, I can't be bothered fighting the machine, so I reboot, restart and get 'Hello from Rails!' in my browser.
That's the longest its ever taken me to get Hello World up and running.
Browsing the various forums indicates that I'm far from being the only one.
The premise of Ruby on Rails is that it is simple to build web sites. The inference is that you don't have to be an uber nerd to learn this language and framework. The Pragmatic Programmer's books are always easy to read and motivational. I know that the book is targeted at an older version of rails, but still, it didn't help. Hopefully the rest will be a bit smoother and of course, solving these problems will enhance my understanding.
Or drive me mad and cause me to abandon this little project.
Pressing on...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
