Monday, May 30, 2011

I'd Rather Die On My Feet

Despite saying i would never do it, today i went to the gym.

Sweet techno beats and gyrating bodies this was not. I went with Brendan, curious about the weights and exercises he did for bike racing, and whether they might help. Furthermore, i hear Pete the trainer was a bit of a character and, at 71, full of good advice.

On hearing that i was a road cyclist and keen to work on things that would make me better at racing, Pete had me doing light weights, squats, and curious dog position things. He also told me i was a typical cyclist, had shit posture, asked me why i was sweating so much, despite not having done any work, and then laughed at me for only being in C grade.

He was a total champ.

I kinda only came along to see what Brendan had been talking about this whole time, but i definitely think I'll be going again...if only for the ice bath which, by the way, i shared with Casey. We both thought it was pretty funny.

So gyms don't have to be hell. I learnt something today.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Who Needs God When You Have Satan?

If you look carefully, you can see me in the middle of the pit, having a fucking ball.


Friday, May 20, 2011

When Armageddon's been locked and loaded, I will come back for you.

The past few days I have been fortunate enough to see the band Propagandhi twice. I won't do a review, like i did when i used to write for this site, firstly because I am increasingly realising that i can't write for shit and, secondly, it would be boring. Suffice to say that they were ten times better than i was expecting. They brought a live show that i didn't think was possible outside of a Slayer concert. Rad times.

I'm aware that this blog is increasingly about me listening to a lot of punk, and me making outrageous generalised claims about it, and then comparing it to metal. It's a formula that, for now, is working.

But the other night at the show, hanging with some great friends, seeing crust kids, edge guys, the odd metal head, classic hardcore old guard, I felt like i was sixteen again and learning the difference between thrash kids and death metal kids.

You can dismiss this as arbitrary scene lines, indicative of nothing in particular but, god damn, if i don't find the different ways in which people choose to live their lives fascinating. Propagandhi rightly lambast our shitty scenes as just another brand of conformity which prevent us from creating change for people who actually need it. I agree with them to an extent.

But when people unite at a show to watch some music that makes them feel really good about themselves and others, well, that can only be a positive thing.

As an aside, I wanted to crowd surf but, as i said to Brendan and Casey at the time, I didn't feel confident, largely because metal guys expect much more weight from a crowd surfer. Maybe they bend their legs more, i dunno, but the crowd surfing needs work guys!

Next week i return to my roots and will see Morbid Angel. Face shredding, stage diving madness to ensue.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

One by One

Aeons ago the legends tell we rode onward
Led astray by the northern chaos gods
Calm before the storm we came from the north...
Horses roamed in the open landscaped

The scald sang to their kings
Only he who battle wins
The scald sang to their kings
Let the battle he fought to the won

Tremble with fear for the banner of our kings
War now calls heed to the battle
Hear our swords clinging in the wind
Men cast from their saddles horses roar and scream
Descendants of wrath and the kingdoms of fear...
The might we possess burn like fire
The will remain in our northern hearts...
More scalps to be won - an eye for an eye

Aeons ago the legends tell we rode onward
Led astray by the northern chaos gods
One by one by the northern tribe you fall
One by one... die by the strongest of them all
Still theres only greatness sunged in those who fell
Who battled strong to win these wars...
One by one we took your lives

Grey mist swirl across the meadows...
Where battles once ruled the steps
Where the ancient armours of bronce
Are buried and corrored by time
Strong where those who won the war...
And the legends tell only of wrath
As brothers of the northern tribes...
They guarded the horders of chaos
We leave this Battlefields ground
Red where the rivers of blood
Unforgotten by the ones...
Born of strength and glory

I think the band Immortal may have had something else in mind but, when the weather turns as nasty and cold as it is now, it always comes to mind.

It also makes me want to race the Northern Combine. That's kinda pagan.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Ride Harder: needs more nuts.

So I've been clocking up a lot of kilometres lately. Both social and training rides (and racing!) have been coming thick and fast. I have been feeling good. My diet has been decent, my sleep has been good, and my efforts on the bike have been none too shabby.

Until tonight.

It was just a quiet training ride that i decided to go on, at the last minute. I often do it, both for the hills and the company. Tour de Burbs is always a bit of fun.

But holy shit today i felt like i was having my guts ripped out by a large badger named Toby, who wasn't really into kindness.

Truth be told, I probably hadn't eaten enough today, and i was paying dividends for it now. As well as that, I've probably gone from doing something like 150km a week for the past two or three months, to doing something like 500 the past two weeks. I could make excuses for ever. But i felt shit, i barely held on, i cut the ride short.

This is no big deal and happens to everyone who follows some kind of physical activity regime. I probably just had a bad day. All the advice one reads is just to forget it, refuel, and do it again another day.

But the doubts that creep in, as you loose that wheel, your heart beat pounding in your ears, always question whether you did everything right. In a race, and your in pain, the voice in your head is asking you: "Hey dickhead, guess that garlic bread wasn't such a good idea after all...or maybe your whole diet just sucks. You have no power at all."

Stupid, irrational thoughts. But they stick in your head. Which is probably good because, when you get off the bike, you resolve to disprove these little folk theories. To show your yourself that, fuck it, you can do it!

Meh, so i felt tired on a bike ride today. Get fucked James.