Monday, August 31, 2009

My foot hurts!

Been a busy few days which ending with me doing something quite out of character and sleeping from about 2pm to 6pm last Sunday. It started with the burger dinner Thursday night, then followed up with a Red Bull fuelled assignment submission Friday night and closed out with JP’s book launch Saturday arvo/night.

None of the nights were really what I would consider late nights, but I have been a bit flat lately and sleeping poorly, so I guess it all finally caught up with me Sunday arvo.

One of the things that has been leaving me a bit flat has been a distinct lack of exercise over the last 6 weeks or so. As Havock kindly pointed out over at the cheeseburger, I have hit 100kgs thanks to a complete lack of exercise and a diet that would shame even Moko’s goats. The exercise issue is due to an injury I have picked up. I was actually started to ramp things up, doing additional running outside of footy, with a mind to running this year’s Melbourne Marathon, then started to get pain from what I thought was a bruised heel. I didn’t worry much about it until during a game of footy, while sprinting to a contest, I felt something move in my heel and then a sharp, nasty pain. I had an acute case of planter fasciitis. In layman’s terms, I had a tear in the tissue that runs from my heel to the ball of my foot and makes up the arch of your foot.

This is not the first time I have had planter fasciitis. I had a mild case a few years ago, but was able to stretch it out through a couple of long, slow runs. This time there is a tear rather than a strain and it is taking forever to heal. It’s been 6 weeks and it still feels like it is going to snap every time I move quicker than a walk.

I hate not being able to run. I have been running regularly for over 10 years now and with the way I eat it is the only way to keep my weight respectable. It is also a great way to wind down. Unlike many, I don’t listen to music when I run and I try to think as little as possible (yes that is easy for me to do), it becomes almost meditative, particularly on a long run.

Hopefully I will be able to hit the road again soon, I’ve got my eye on a little run in May 2010 called the Great Ocean Road Marathon. If I can make that and run the 42.2 in under 3.30 hrs I will never need to run another marathon.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Roses are from Nantucket

I don't really get poetry.

Actually scratch that, I get it, I just don't really like it much.

I can't say I am a massive reader of poetry to make me the best judge, but I have read more than the odd 4 liner about people from Nantucket or what colour roses are.

Some battlefield poetry particularly from the first World War has a certain resonance, but all said and done I would prefer if they shared their thoughts and emotions in a simpler written format.

My dislike of poetry probably stems from my appreciation of the beauty of simplicity. To my sensibilities, something that performs it's duty completely, in the simplest way possible is inherently beautiful. Poetry seems to perform it's duty of conveying a message, using a combination of words that the author finds evokes particular emotions for them, but could be interpreted completely differently by others. If the intention is to evoke specific emotions, then poetry can be a pretty haphazard way of doing it.

I got this definition of poetry from about.com :

Poetry is an imaginative awareness of experience expressed through meaning, sound, and rhythmic language choices so as to evoke an emotional response. Poetry has been known to employ meter and rhyme, but this is by no means necessary. Poetry is an ancient form that has gone through numerous and drastic reinvention over time. The very nature of poetry as an authentic and individual mode of expression makes it nearly impossible to define.

I see the written word as a means to convey information and at times solicit an emotional response. If you want me to have an emotional response then tell me a simple story, don't string a bunch of fancy words together in some kind of rhythmic pattern and expect any emotional response other than frustration, after I've spent 20 minutes working out what you are on about.

Hmmm, might explain why I generally prefer photography over other forms of visual art.

Anyway, feel free to tell me just how wrong I am.