Here comes the sun - what a difference 2 years make!

I will always be a marathon Runner!

Its funny this morning as I get ready for my little sisters wedding, its a very different Sunday to what the pair of us were up to 2 years ago when we were currently trudging around the London Marathon course wondering why on earth we had signed on for such a mad enterprise. 

Funnily enough today I am chuffed to bits to see the Sun outside, weddings are always a little challenging in the drizzle or even worse snow, but contrast this to 24 months ago, the hottest day of the year bought disaster to many marathon runners plans. So to mark my sisters Wedding and our not running I am going to reference my favourite Beatles tune for the day, and consider its contrasts.

and this is what it felt like to run a marathon if anyone wonders! My post from 2 years ago:

It's now Monday afternoon, and my legs are beginning to seize up as todays dose of Ibuprofen wares off. While the marathon is (painfully) fresh in my memory I thought I would jot down the gory details, and also to reflect on what I will take away (which seems to be this years buzz word).

So I completed the marathon, and it was bloody hard. The weather yesterday was glorious, for everyone spectating. The view from the runner was that I could have done with a little more of the glorious weather being saved for when I had the opportunity to enjoy it, the bank holiday weekends spring to mind.

The experience was really interesting, went down to London early on Saturday, registered at Excel and went round their exhibition of all things running related, this got me all the more excited for the following day's event, listening to motivational speakers galore. Afternoon was a bit of pottering round London, enjoying international record store day and cursing my blackberries slow internet access as I followed Birmingham's excellent victory over Sunderland. In the evening I got together my final preparations, realised it was going to be sunny and so had to decide whether to wear my running vest or my running top, rather than both. Top won out as the vest was a little snug and when I tried it on the outcome was a little camp for my liking. It was probably a good job as writing my name on my running vest with a permanent marker left the vest with a decidedly hallucinogenic effect when trying it on, and then when I tried to wash the smell off it turned out that the permanent pen was anything but (the Hilton sink had a very black tide mark as a result). So the decision was set, I was running in an old Blues shirt, I had a good meal of Pizza to stock up on carbs and went to bed suitably nervous but excited.

And then yesterday, the day of the Marathon, everyone in London seemed to be wandering around with red virgin plastic bags, and we congregated at the starting point. Due to my pessimism when signing up 6 months ago, my starting position on the grid was at the back, right at the back, I started running next to Brian the snail from the magic roundabout, a fire engine and an 8 foot tall pink nurse called Rob.

9:45 came and off we set, I knew that it was warm, so I set a pace for myself with my lovely new Nike plus watch that was slower than my half marathon paces, to try to take this into account and spent a few miles taking in the atmosphere, I could feel it getting hotter, but I kept thinking that was fine as I had put in the miles in training, was taking it relatively easy and drinking at each drinks station. However at about 10 miles I realised that perhaps the heat was going to be quite a big factor for someone carrying a decent amount of timber! I had been sweating quite a bit, and the joy of sweat laced with suntan cream stinging my eyes must have made me look like I had begun crying very early in the race, but I carried on, and getting to tower bridge at half way was a real boost - having to run less than I had run already is normally a massive psychological boost for me, but in this instance it was not the greatest, as I just felt knackered. In fact I felt really empty, as if I had burnt up all the fuel in my body, so I had a little panic for half a mile, and came up with a plan.

I then started running at the side of the course and grabbed any good sources of nourishment offered from the crowd that I could. I have never been so over the moon to see a small child handing out jelly babies or an old dear with her bowl of opal fruits. Funnily enough this, coupled with the handing out of 'lucozade gel packs' (basically this seems to be refresher sweets in gel format) gave me a renewed lease of life and I continued for another few miles, having slowed my pace accordingly.

Until mile 17, I turned a bend and felt a squelch in my foot, which I knew from experience was a blow out (or great big blister exploding). So I was now knackered and in pain, and decided to slow the pace down, well I didn't, my body suggested I might want to. I passed a young lad handing out jaffa cakes, and was reminded of a recent Dave Gorman piece on his radio about what was the right way to eat them, (separating the orange bit and letting it dissolve, or full moon, half moon, total eclipse) the answer I found was ram it into my mouth as quickly as possible, barely stopping to chew.

I was now playing mind games with myself, as the need to walk a bit in between running kicked in at about 19 miles, games like walk this song and then start running, or walk until a mile marker and then run the next mile, it was challenging to say the least. In addition I had some merry battles with the 8 foot tall nurse Rob, a couple of Rhino's, a chap covered in poppies, a tiger and a bloke dressed in pink with a tutu and a bucket. It may sound stupid, but when walking and passed by any of the above it does spur one into action, slow action I will grant you, but action non the less.

And then I was in the final 3 miles, which I ran all of, and it was tough, my mind flicked to loads of different things, but quite often to the huge amount of sponsorship from people and how I wanted to do people proud in that respect, I reckon so far I am at about £2.5k in sponsorship money which exceeded what the Miscarriage association expected, and which has made me feel really humbled by the support.

Into the last mile, then 800 yards, 600 yards, 400 yards, turn the corner, game face on, 385 yards, smiling at the first official photographer, 200 yards, arms aloft for the next 100 yards and in arms raised triumphantly (having checked that on either side there was noone who would make me look stupid in my official photo, I am not ashamed to admit that I ran significantly faster on that element of the run because of the bloke wholly atired in pink with a pink bucket and tu tu mincing down the mall, and the chance that he would be in my official photo.) My time, 5 hours and 8 minutes, the longest 5 hours and 8 minutes of my life, and most painful.

and it was over, I was handed my medal, got my bag, slumped to the ground and then ate everything edible that they provided. I called Claire (Mrs P) and got an excited Dylan and Evie shouting 'well done daddy down the phone' (they had watched the coverage running round the lounge in circuits Dylan being me, Evie being Auntie Lynny (my sister who some of you know who also ran, and ran a good steady pace throughout, she ran the perfect marathon in my opinion! )

Me and Lyn went to her charity get together after, had some pasta and a well received sports massage, well received by me, I think that the masseur would have been less than enamoured to have a less than fragrant brummie struggling to get onto the massage table. Onto the train to come home, which was a little painful (steps at Euston anyone) I cracked open a warm can of London Pride - not my drink of choice, but one of the nicest alcoholic drinks I can ever remember after my recent abstinence.

I dutifully updated my facebook page to let my friends know I was alive and then was inundated and personally overwhelmed by the response, so many people said such nice things that I began walking very tall (although with more of a John Wayne gait due to blisters and stiffness) and wishing that I could have had those people around the course for the last 13 or so miles for support. This has continued, today at work everyone had stopped and asked me how things went, lots of praise, and the inevitable question, have you been bitten by the bug, and the answer to that is no. Thats it, its been a long road since I started training (2 years) and 16 weeks of full on training, giving up time with the family (and drinking) so I have achieved my ambition, raised a money for charity and have a warm glow.

So I am a marathon runner, and always will be.

Thanks for all of your support, it really has meant a lot to me.

On this day in history: Sea Of Bees at the Hare & Hounds

Now, it may not sound a long time ago, but it feels a long time ago, this was pre the Olympics, and towards the start of my year of gigs that was to be 2012 (57 you know) no chance of getting that number of passes out this year. Anyway, I did write about the Sea of Bees Gig, and they are a band I am very fond of. Its interesting the following the Support Stealing Sheep have garnered in the last 12 months, I see they are one of the acts picked for Liverpools equivalent of the Mercury Music Prize - what a difference a year makes.

Anyway, here's what I thought then (cue the swirly lines and time shift that comes from Waynes World and other such comedy shows).

A See of Bees who were out of this world or at least off this planet:

So another trip to the Hare and Hounds who turn out to be the tardiest venue I have come across, as arriving 20 past the advertised doors opening time there was just closed doors up stairs with a couple of people stood patiently outside shrugging sheepishly waiting for the sound check to finish, suited me so I had a jar, a bit of a chat and cleared some emails.

When we got in, there were a number of nice little tables with red jars and candles, very nice. A quick chat to the soundman about what time were the bands yielded the reply of ooh don't know, I should find out. So I settled down at a little table (result) and awaited the first band. Dust motes, a local band representing a nice nervous quiet chap sitting on a stool acoustic guitar in hand with no eye contact and apologetic banter between songs and a bass player who smiled a bit but stroked his bass in the most gentle manner I have ever seen. Pleasant banter between songs and not a bad little set, there is a place in the world for head phones and 'Nervous Rock' copyright 2012.

Planty arrived mid motes and ensured we shared a nice romantic table with more premium than cooking lager, and on came the next band, Stealing Sheep, three potentially students from Liverpool, central mouthier one playing stand up drums, flanked by guitarist and keyboards (who turned out to be from Lichfield but an honorary scouse). They then started sharing out the banter playing quirky songs with odd instruments thrown in. Lots of track from the forthcoming album were played, with the 3rd track on the set list the stand out, I think it was one word starting with an M when I spoke to the guitarist, but who knows.

There was an awkward moment when 2 young ladies decided to stand in front of the romantic table. I plucked up courage, tapped on the shoulder, mentioned the view and they moved, sadly in front of Planty, but a bit more staring into the backs of their necks and they took the hit and wandered off.

The 2 lasting memories were the hey nonny now electric song, and a finale using one of the best sounding instruments I have ever seen, which I believe the technical term is a 'brilliantly circly click click Wooden thing'

To the main event and on came Sea of Bees, who had been lingering in the audience and by the CDs for the first 2 bands shouting encouragement quirkily.

Song one, and on came Jules and support guitarist amber, this first song was pretty average and the singers pained face led this to feel like it would be a long night, but then on came a long haired guitarist and a geeky drummer, and the sound was filled out. It's hard to Pigeon hole the sound to a genre, with quirky little noises picking out of the end of the songs. A bit of country coming out too, a bit of California, just ace.

The blokes turned out to have been picked up post flight to the UK in Kent, and a jet lagged 13 hour practice session.

SOB then filled the stage and the songs, each being previewed by a discussion about where the inspiration from the song came from, from a weirdly distracted mind and lots of 'you know's when if I'm honest all the audience probably didn't. 

Lots of songs with one word titles, and a cover of 'leaving on a jet plane' which was flagged I think of the song of her life story, based on looking jealously on her brothers happiness in his relationship. Amber was also a real star of the show too, great banter including various small animal noises,

Huge warmth to SOB came back from the audience, and not a small amount from the fact that the was a heartfelt joy of having returned to Brum where they have enjoyed a couple of gigs previously, and 2 sets of friends in the audience for the Californians.

It was also a great touch that SOB were selling a hand made live CD, screen printed cover, which having listened to on the way home ally captured the feel, particular a slight banter before the first song, the stand out Gnomes.

All topped off with a McDonalds with voucher on way home.

On this day in history: #3 The bride is Pretty in Pink

Psychedelic Furs House Of Blues Anaheim
10 April 2001 Los Angeles

I'm enjoying looking back in history, brings back some quite fantastic memories. Going back 12 years ago me and Mrs P were on our honeymoon, choosing our favourite holiday destination, America and more specifically Anaheim in LA.

Pre kids the US was our regular haunt for holidays, a lucky position to be in but 2 incomes, not tied to school holidays want that we could visit the States regularly. Our enthusiasm piqued by a first trip to Vegas on a last minute trip (booked in a Travel Agent that day to go) for £199 with car thrown in. That was a bargain, and in that week we drove to LA.

But in 2001 wanting to tie in other things I loved along with the honeymoon I checked out the local gig listings and found our favourite restaurant also put on live gigs, our favourite restaurant being the House of Blues. The House of Blues is a small chain which we always sought out. Founded back in 1992, the first House of Blues was originally financed by Dan Aykroyd,Aerosmith, Paul Shaffer, River Phoenix, James Belushi and Harvard University among others, and its cool. While we were there we got to see the band Psychedelic Furs. Bit disappointing that the week before Brummie favourites Duran Duran had played, as did my favourite Spice Girl Sporty but I wasn't going to be able to change the wedding dates.

House of Blues Anaheim

I can't mention the House of Blues without mentioning the Calamari starter, this is by a million miles my favourite meal, when sharing this with Mrs P we get to play the game of sorting the baby calamari out into those smaller ones with all the legs attached (for me) and those you can't tell are the little baby squids (Mrs P's).

So to the gig itself, this was a year of a big reunion for the Furs, shamefully me and Mrs P didn't know anything more than the obvious Pretty in Pink which came through in the encore, the rest of the gig was very much a good old fashioned indie music romp, the crowd well up for the gig, enjoying singing along to various songs. This was however more about the experience, the lovely LA weather, the cracking venue, decor all based around Southern Blues and then honeymoon gigging overseas.

Searching the net, there are a couple of reviews such as the following:

The Build up: from here

March 7, 2001 – Reforming after 10 years, the Psychedelic Furs are gearing up for a spring tour beginning March 23rd through May 13th. Featuring founding members Richard Butler, Tim Butler and John Ashton, the Furs will perform all their favorites, and some new songs that they intend to record immediately after the tour.

During the Furs first tenure (1978-1991) the group garnered a vast following for their music's unpredictable mix of punk rock, poetic lyricism and rhythmic hooks. Fronted by vocalist Richard Butler, the Furs became one of the more riveting musical forces to come out of the post-punk, new-wave era. The band charted big hits with "Love My Way," "Heaven," "The Ghost In You," and of course "Pretty In Pink," which accelerated the Furs ascendancy to the pop mainstream when the group recorded a new version for the John Hughes' 1986 film of the same name.

After twelve years of recording and touring and with seven studio albums under their belt, Richard, Tim and John became tired of being the Psychedelic Furs and in 1991 decide to go their own ways. "It was very amicable," say Richard Butler, "There just weren't any surprises left, so we moved on."

While Richard Butler was working on material for a solo project, he got together with Tim to do some writing which gave rise to the Psychedelic Furs second coming. "When Tim saw all the songs I had, he asked about doing another Furs' record and then our manager called about doing some shows -- so it seemed like the time was right," explains Butler. "Because we're not exactly sure what to expect from ourselves or the audience, the whole idea of being in the Psychedelic Furs is exciting again."

and the gig itself: LA Times Review

Happy endings are rare, while loneliness and misery are all too plentiful, a fact of life that helps explain the success of the Psychedelic Furs' reunion tour.

Anyone who so much as hummed a note in the early '80s is back plying the nostalgia circuit, yet this British new wave band's sold-out show Tuesday at Anaheim's House of Blues only intermittently felt dated, mixing new material with old.

That's because Furs singer-songwriter Richard Butler spent most of his time then--and now--delving into the timeless questions of what happens when love doesn't work out, when the heart seems fated to be a lonely hunter.

Such Furs' pop-radio staples as "Love My Way" and "Pretty in Pink" still sound fairly good, perhaps because they weren't dripping with the now-anachronistic synthesizer sounds of that time.

Further, Butler--joined in the quintet by original members Tim Butler on bass and John Ashton on guitar--has lost none of his magnetism as a Bowie-esque singer and front man.

One of the best flyers for a gig listing I have seen (Spot Duran and Mel C)

On this day in History #2 (a bit of) Take That!

On this day in History #2

Music is definitely in the ear of the beholder, and there is no guarantee to what you will like, which is why 8 years ago in 2005 I found myself in the bar at the O2 academy Birmingham waiting for Mark Owen to come on and rattle through a short set of his solo material. Now you may be laughing here, thinking its a wind up, this is obviously some cool folk singer with the same name as the cute one from take that, but no 'twas he. It's quite odd, I can absolutely say without any fear of being wrong that at that time I hated, with a passion every song that Take That had previously done. A fact born out when I went to see them with Mrs P a couple of years ago, the set of new stuff and the stuff from Robbie was great but when the boys got together round a piano to sing the old songs, the old feelings of revoltion were awakened.

But back to Mark Owen, he always (with Robbie) seemed to be a laugh in interviews, then post break up decided to record an album of Britpop indie tunes. In those days I loved Britpop indie tunes, still do. Loved Clementime the second track off his album then he rerecorded the song 'I am what I am' off the album and charted at 29 before he was dropped by his record label, this again was a tune I really rated.

5 years later after winning celebrity big brother he was able to get another record deal, and 4 minute warning was the single off it he released, another cracking tune.

Concert wise, this was not too memorable, an early curfew meant he was finished by 9:45. He's not got the strongest of voices, but the singles were good old fashioned Indie Pop tunes. However I did find something that the earlier me penned 8 years ago, to go in my scrap book (it never got past 2003 though)

The new album!

'As no one's likely to review this, a homemade review will have to suffice. Me and Lyn were shepherded into a side door, the academy 2 was 2/3 full and with largely medium ladies. Mark Owen came on at 8:45 to Take That screams, lots of camera flashes & played predominantly songs from the new album. Within these ones sounded a quite Bees ish, mockney tune. Mark chatted between songs, introduced the band & the soundmen! thanked us twice for coming and complained about the school disco next door. Stand out tracks were Clementine, 4 minute warning & kill with your smile. All over by 10 and then home'  
People know I love my music, and know I love to see bands live, they always raise an eyebrow when I admit to enjoying the work of Mark Owen, but I am comfortable in my musical skin.......

On this day in history 1: Suede Fanclub Gig in Manchester

Unfeasibly good value ticket at a fiver

On this day in 1999:

I had been in the Suede fan club for some time. Getting 4 magazines a year for a tenner was fine, plus the other stuff, the odd cd etc but the best bit about the fan club for most was the fan club gigs. To date I had not ventured to these as they were usually in London mid week and, being a worker in Brum and not particularly adventurous, this put them out of my range. So as a result, I had to read on jealously in the music press or heaven forbid the next fanzine for what I had missed for my £10.

This was until 1999 when they ventured out of the capital to play a gig on a Tuesday night at Manchester Student Union. This was good for a couple of reasons - I new where Manchester Student Union was (Mrs P and I had spent our first night together in the academy next door some 7 years earlier) and with her loving Suede we could definitely go to this. To be fair I did have to buy the ticket for £5 but it was worth it.

I seem to recall it taking a while to get up there, I used to go up the A roads for some reason, probably a legacy of my old mini days, but we got there to hang around for not to long before the band came on. They came on to what has become, probably through them, one of my favourite albums, certainly the 6 years old Mr P had no recollection of god saving the queen, and her fascist regime. But Never Mind The Bollocks got us in the mood for Suede.

The five familiar men walked on the stage. But this was to be a show premiering the new stuff, Head Music was about to be unleashed on us. "Can't Get Enough" is up first. This is a distant cousin of my favourite "She", the same choppy guitar and the brilliant whoo-hoo vocals.


"Savoir Faire" up next, a relaxing Suede song, not like what had passed before. A love song maybe.

"Electricity" the lead single, with it's crackling video and quality "It's bigger than the universe" lyrics has us waving arms and shouting along.

"Everything Will Flow" slows us back down, it is to become a real favourite in future years . It glides. Followed by "Indian Strings" lighters aloft.

A couple of older songs "The Sound Of The Streets" and "Together" Brett throws tambourines, water bottles, lighted cigarettes out at the crowd, and teasingly runs his fingers across the outstretched hands of the crowd.

"He's Gone" sounds great. A lament to a long lost love. Huge and tiny at the same time.

"Elephant Man" is the oddest song from Suede, a primal chant, well shout along.

"Starcrazy", not one of my faves from Coming Up,  "Europe Is Our Playground lovely  Then the band leave the stage, with Brett there, on a stool, ready to do "Crack in the Union Jack"well just Brett and a guitar and Neil.

Before starting the song though, the shy Anderson says "I can play an F, a D, and a G.

The encore is She, which is just brilliant and leaves me ready for the journey home.

Hours of fun went into this scrap book

The joy of having a scrap book also brings the time to life, not sure who said this but it would have been one of the Music press, probably Melody Maker, although I would check other magazines for Suede, Pulp and others.

Day two and Manchester brings more of the same: the same songs (nine new ones, three recentish B sides and two tracks from Coming up.) the same fervour and the same flooded beauty. Only like I said, it's more of the same. first because Manchester Universitys debating hall is to Glasgow's Garage what the new Richard 'James Dean Bradfield' Oakes is to the old one; about three times as big. Ahem. And, secondly, because Brett seems to have cramped right through his pre-gig bit tonight, and takes to the stage like a snotier John Lydon, his grinning charisma backed up by the heart of Nick Drake, the animal sneer of David Bowie and all the frantic footwork of Rudolf Nureyev on an E.
Which makes the new Neil-written, dumb as f*** Elephant Man perfect for a gig like tonight's, in all it's ridiculous, fall-style, yob bush, ranting, "Auf weirder sheen Pet" on crack get this for lo fi experimentation Blur glory. Once again, Star Crazy and Together do things to the roof it's builders never Egan to plan for, and the opening missile storm of 'can't get enough', 'Savoir fairer' and 'Electricity' flash fries the joint with probably the best 10 minutes of live performance Suede have ever played  Brett lashing out over his microphone stand with the snarling spite of a lion clawing at its cage, maniacally hopping up and down on his monitors like Tigger on a trampoline. The stage, it must be said, is all his.
It just feels like I'm at home onstage these days. Brett will tell us back n his dressing room after the show. Like I'm sitting in my front room actually I feel so relaxed it's ridiculous! I don't have any fear of being in front thousands of people at all now. I think back on when we fist started and I used to shit myself, but I couldn't give a flying f*** now! I could almost lie down onstage and take a quick nap now! Actually I think I might atthe next show!
Hardly. Though, having said that, while tonights show packs more punch than Lennox Lewis let loose on that American judge, it is Suedes more tender moments which hit the hardest. The sweeping 'Hes gone' is already a fan base legend, after it's Reading debut in 97. Tonight, it's feminine sympathies and aching melancholy shivers us senseless, a frozen reminder of just how and why Suede changed everything 7 years ago and look so certain to do so again. 'Down' with its hypnotic measure and smothering swathes of guitar, is almost as precious, all wasted ebb and flow and Brett's gentle 'you draw the blinds and blow your mid away' tucking us in tight. And an especially stirring 'Everything will flow' - a classic Suede slow dance, not entirely unlike 'Wild ones' cherries the cake, a priceless reminder of how Suede can say more with one wailed 'Aaoowowowowow' than most bands say across an entire lyric sheet.
So like Pantomime Horse, The Big Time and Sleeping Pills before them these are the sad songs and they'll always mean the most. Intimacy's a  rare commodity these days, but Suede more than ever - have the gift of making a hurricane sound personal. So you barely even notice when the others (bar Neil) slip off to allow Brett to perform a soloish 'Crack in the Union Jack' all hard struck acoustic guitar and softly political murmurs.

On this week 1 - Roundhay Park free Britpop Festival

In 1995 I was gripped in the fever of Britpop, in love with Suede but desperate to get hold of anything that I was told by Q, NME, Melody Maker and Select was part of the Stuart Maconie named Britpop scene. Every week with my new found wage resulted in a trip to HMV in Sutton or a trail round the record shops in Brum, particularly Reddingtons Rare Records who provided all CDs at half price on a Saturday and had shelved packed with promos (an album always felt much more special if itched gold writing embossed saying it was not for resale) and imports from the states.

In 1995 an adventure was to follow though, a road trip to see the free Britpop festival in Leeds. I am not really sure how it arose but me and Mrs P had tickets along with my ex and her new fella from uni in Sheffield (nice chap with good long indie hair I seem to recall). Getting there is resigned to history but must have been a bit of a challenge arriving in my beige metro (I can't believe that I drove a beige metro for a good 3 years everything about that car was shit) but I remember walking into the park quite clearly very excited for what seemed miles and into a cracking natural amphitheatre. I believe that the festival had 2 stages but being a festival virgin I was only interested in the main stage because it featured no less than Salad (like a granite statue) Powder (sh sh sh shave me) Marion (heroine fuelled) Menswear (breathe deeper, day dreamer criminally underated and lost to the hype myth) sleeper (just my inbetweeeeener) culminating in the headliners Pulp. Seeing Jarvis up there in front of many thousand fans, with them in the palm of his hand was superb and probably fuelled my love of all things Britpop one hundredfold. I love to see a headliner with the audience in the palm of his hand, chatting nonchellantly through the set, it's a rare gift that very few manage.

It's funny what memories stay with you, do I remember the sun setting over the field, or perhaps the dancing with Mrs P to a bit of Razamatazz, no, what I do remember is eating noodles from the vans that stood around the side of the field.

Looking back this was an amazing free experience, and one that I rate Heinekan highly for as a result. Do I think that a free festival with back to back performances of my favourite bands who were the next big things is likely again? - well no, but luckily festivals were not on every weekend as they are now and somehow I managed to get a ticket. Superb, but in actual fact, probably well worthwhile for the bands as I feel I may well have repaid them for their performances as I own every album they have done and a great many cd singles (in multiple) formats.

Great tunes

Pulp's cruelly missed Razamatazz

and

Powders sing along Shave me