holiday cheer

Cult movie alert! Five is showing underrated classic Bad Santa tonight at 9pm, and though I don't often advocate staying in on a Thusday night (Thursday = new Friday = new Saturday, blablabla), this is as good an excuse as you'll find. Featuring the dry comic genius of Billy Bob Thornton and a whole cast of incredible supporting roles, this is possibly the only, and ever, Xmas to which you can play drinking games. Which means, of course, that's is totally awesome and should not be missed.

the curious case of the self-cancelling credit card

one of the first thing you notice after moving to the UK is how prevalent credit is in everyday life. Ads in the tube, constant mail from your bank and of course the ubiquitous store cards are there you remind one that it doesn't matter when you pay for it, as long as you keep shopping. As Sarah Palin might say, "charge, baby, charge". Of course with the current economic downturn we have a reminder of how quickly that can change once banks and financial establishments decide to turn off the spigot, but overall you still get the sense that much of the growth of UK's economy is aided by future income, since that is in essence what credit is. In fact the Guardian reported this year that debt growth was higher than GDP growth, a fact that highlights how systematic the recourse to credit has become for consumers. In comparison, the level of household debt stands at 47% in France, or less than half that of the UK, which has the highest such level among the major European economies.

As a new-arrivant here it is awfully tempting to participate in this real-life Monopoly (side-note and top 5 WTF of the year: is Ridley Scott really directing a movie based on the board game?), but as I've found out, it's not at all that easy. Having opened a current account (Barclay's) within the first few days of my arrival, I was still using my French-based card for most expenses and, focused on starting a whole new life, didn't feel the need to go beyond the basic debit card provided by Barclay's. Over the next few months I thought about it from time to time, but never felt a need to take the plunge. In late 2007 I took a trip to Brittany, where I'd booked a rental car from the Nantes airport. This is where I found out that none of the major car-rental chains accepted debit cards, or even any alternatives I suggested (getting my mom's CC number over the phone, paying cash for the deposit...). With a 150km journey still to go to my destination, I had to improvise, which resulted in 1 cab ride, 2 trains and a 11:30pm pickup from my grandma at the train station. My grandma's in her late 80s, so let's just say driving late at night isn't her favorite thing to do. Once back in the UK, I decided to apply for a credit card at last.

This is where the main sticking point happened: in the UK, if you want to get a credit card, companies look at your credit score. If you've just moved here for the first time, you don't have a score. So you need one to get one, but if you don't have one you won't get one. Clear? Having got rejected from online applications to Amex and Barclays, I realized this might be a bit trickier than I thought. Yearning to stay away from the cold automated rejection letters (and complete lack of explanation from the associated helpdesks), I decided to stop by my bank branch a few months ago to see if my application could be processed by a real-live person, who could perhaps look at my situation and at least explain to me why I wasn't authorized to join the splurging masses. Going through my salary and current financial situation with the advisor, I was told there was no reason why I wouldn't get approved and that we'd do the application together to ensure success. And sure enough, two weeks later, I got a shiny new credit card in the mail, with a humongous £250 credit limit. Really nothing to brag about, but I figured it was a start, and at least I'd have one if necessary.

Needing to activate the card, I called the number stamped on it, thinking that it was pretty good timing, since i had my trip to Australia in a few weeks and would definitely be able to use it there. But when I called the number, I was told the card was already activated. Thinking that was a tad weird, I called the Barclayscard helpdesk and asked if there was a problem. After a few minutes of looking around on the system, the helpdesk operator explained to me that in fact the card had been cancelled, since Barclays had realized I wasn't fit to hold one after all. By this point I was wondering if I was stuck in a personal-finance episode of the Twilight Zone, and asked for more explanations. Unfortunately the calculations made to authorize or reject people are all automated, so no one can really tell you what is wrong when you're not accepted. All the person on the line was able to tell me was that I could cut up the card since I wouldn't be able to use it. Now there's some sound advice, not sure I would've thought of it on my own.

This happened over the summer, and since then I'd kind of resigned myself to being credit-less for a few years. Indeed through my application processes I'd noticed that they always ask for 3 years' addresses history in the UK, which I obviously do not have. Was it possible that my lack of credit score, and recent arrival in the country was the thing blocking all my applications? Too bad I couldn't ask the giant robot running the process, that guy's pretty heartless if you ask me.

Then last week I saw an ad for Capital One, and remembered how in the US they were known for giving out credit cards to pretty much anyone. Despite knowing that each negative application can adversely affect you credit rating, I decided to try once more, figuring that it was worth a shot, having done my last one five months prior. Upon completing the grueling two-minute online form, I got the usual "we'll let you know" message and figured they were just cordial and preferred to send the rejection letter through the mail instead of telling me straightaway. Because nothing says courtesy like a mass-reproduced letter of denial. Only thing is I actually got accepted for the basic card, apparently, and sent back my signed agreement yesterday. So theoretically in 7 to 10 working days I should be the (oh-so) proud possessor of a Capital One credit card, with a minimum credit limit of £100, and a sweet 34.9% APR. Unless they decide to go for the sneaky Barclays-style now-you-see-it, now-you-don't technique. Either way I'm not sure I'll have a better understanding of how logical the process is, having seen so many shows on TV about uni students being able to get into £40,000 of debt while I'm stuck with my junior-high debit card.

After these various ups-and-downs I don't think I've become any savvier to the credit card scene here, but I do know one thing: my next salary falls on the 16th (hooray for Xmas early payment dates), on the 17th my primary bank account won't be at Barclay's.

it's not a trend, it's a movement

the good life

In these turbulent times when nary an article (be it about banking bailouts, factory closures or baby seals) fails to mention the credit crunch, it's reassuring to see that in at least some neighborhoods, the specter of recession is still as far away from reality as my plans to move to Hawaii. To illustrate, here's 3 random sights observed during my morning walk to work. Keep in mind these are but a sampling of the many signs of opulence seen throughout the area. Let's just say I'm not worried about seeing too many for sale signs in the neighborhood just yet.



You know what I hate when I buy a crapload of stuff from Selfridges? How to get rid of all the packaging it comes with. But the solution was there all along: re-use the bag it came with. Al Gore knows what I'm talking about.



Ah yes, drop off my ski-wear at the dry cleaners', that's what I was supposed to do this weekend.



the funny part about this picture is the car is generally parked not fifty yards away from Tony Blair's crib. I totally knew his wife was big on luxury German cars.

back to the future

back in college, I took up a habit where I would wake up in the middle of the night once or twice a week to watch live NBA games on cable. I would lose a precious few hours of sleep, staying awake through a steady munching of krisprolls and diet coke, all the while relishing every second of it. Once I joined the workforce such occurences diminished to the point where I now wake up only for major sporting events, like a baseball playoff game, or Alain Bernard's winning 100m freestyle race in the Beijing Olympics.
So with Election day finally upon us, after what feels like the longest political campaign in history, I initially thought I would turn back the clock and pull an old-school half-nighter. But, having stayed at work past 1am yesterday, and, truth be told, not feeling as spry after 4hours of sleep as I used to, I've decided to take the old-man way out. 1am will probably be enough for me, which means I'll only get to see some early returns, not the nail-biting suspense from the battleground state results. Then again if it means I get to avoid the letdown of four years ago, that's probably a good thing.
And, most importantly, in the spirit of unity I prepared a new, special bi-partisan smoothie for desert: strawberries for Republicans, blueberries for Democrats, and some banana for the independents. Now that's change we can believe in.

relax

ugh, being sick for the entire weekend with food poisoning was not exactly what I'd planned. (stoopid Brick Lane tandoori). But I guess if you're gonna get some rest before starting the work week, being stuck in bed for 24hours is one way to do it. And now that I've finally emerged from my place of slumber, I get to enjoy a delicious meal of soup and donuts. Because as we all know, there is nothing that can't be cured by donuts. Nothing.

pas de deux

it will probably take me a couple more days to even think about going for a run again (and many more to consider using stairs), but I already understand why runners say that their first thought when completing a race is often when they're gonna run the next one. Okay, maybe my first one was "where's that Mars stand?", and perhaps I said it out loud, but I'll admit the physical fatigue felt quite faint compared to the general feeling of accomplishment of having finished. Not that I thought I wouldn't be able to do so, but as I laid out last week, I had no such long-distance experience, and so I had real doubts as to how I'd hold up after 7 miles. Doubts which were compounded when I realized that it was actually going to be sunny and warm -for London standards- that morning. But these terrific weather conditions were just one more point in the success column for this first edition of a race that's now destined to become a staple of UK running events. Tremendous organization, a great route and a nice turnout all contributed to rave reviews from all participants I talked to, with which I heartily concur.
Crossing the line at the same time as a coworker, we waited on the Hyde Park grass with a couple of others while we waited for the rest of the corporate team to trickle in. While we were doing so the sun got progressively warmer, and it felt like summer had finally hit London. Adding greatly to the satisfaction was that, finishing in 1h35, I did better than I was aiming for, and some of the coworkers did really well too (the first guy in our group did 1h30, and that wasn't even his PB...).
While initially I had a stated goal of sub-1h45, and an unofficial one of sub 1h40, I had too little experience to know what I could really aim for. For that reason, and out of habit, I just looked at my pace on my timer, trying to stay under 7'30/mile as long as I could. Only after 11miles, the full distance being 13.1m, did I look at the time and realize I was at 1h20. The mental boost this gave me was immeasurable, though unfortunately my stubborn legs refused to follow suit. And the fuzzy math that came with that moment did not help things, as I quickly realized that though I was getting close to finishing, those last 2 miles wouldn't run themselves. Thankfully I was able to find inspiration in the weird pace of a nearby runner, who kept slowing down, get passed by me, then would fly back ahead again only to repeat the same pattern. This reminded me to try to keep going at a steady pace, and the thought of running a good time was enough motivation to not falter. 400 yards from the end there was a final turn and the finish line appeared. At that point it felt like I still had 2 more miles to go, but I spotted the above-mentioned coworker slightly ahead of me and, after tapping him on the shoulder, motioned to him that we should make a go for it. The only problem is that the final sprint works so much better in Hollywood movies than in real life, so I'm not convinced we gained that much speed over those excruciatingly long last "few" yards. And crossing the finish line was weird: it wasn't really the "moment" I thought it would be as much as a bookend to something both horrendous and fantastic. But the bad feelings were gone pretty quickly, and it was the very enjoyable to wait for the rest of the group to join us (the last one finished in 2h30), while drinking gallons of free Powerade. And then we went to the pub, because this is England after all, and because having that first beer after a long run is a fantastic feeling that words would fail to describe.
Before I finish this, 2 stats from the day which I thought were significant:
- my sportband says I used up 1,800cal during my run. Ho-ly cow! Speaking of which, if you don't think I went to Burger King for my post-race meal, you're crazy.
- my finishing time put me in the 95th percentile of the runners, which is a pretty cool, considering there were over 7,500 of them. Running for me is a solo thing, but it's nice to be able to be able to compete in sports again once in a while. Maybe soon I'll start wearing the No Fear t-shirt I loved so much in high school, with its irrefutable slogan: "second place is the first loser". Or not.

While I haven't actually decided what race I'd like to run next, I know there will be a next one at some point. Some point very very far away, while I give my poor calves and joints some much needed quality time. And though I still don't consider myself a runner, today a coworker who took part but hadn't seen my time until this morning came over and said "I didn't know you were a runner?". She meant it as a compliment, and I'll take it.

ready teddy

with just 4 more days left until the Royal Parks half-marathon, here's a sampling of some thoughts going through my mind

- 10am start on a Sunday??? Shouldn't this nullify the race on grounds of unconstitutionality? Or at least flagrant abuse of human rights or something. Although not drinking on the night before (or the whole week for that matter) will for once provide me with a good reason not to go out and go to bed early on a Saturday night.

- traditional "energy" music, like techno or metal, is overrated. Recently I've discovered the virtues of listening to classical music during my runs (try hearing Ravel's Bolero and not feel like you could take on the entire Russian army by the end. Or at least run up that hill 30 secs faster) and I love it. Running has actually become a cool -but tiring- excuse to listen to music you like while looking at the scenery. For instance here's the playlist I had during my last outing:
Lil Wayne - I'm Me
Kings of Leon - Use Somebody
Bon Iver - Lump Sum (live)
Blink 182 - Stockholm Syndrome
Tchaikovsky - 1812 Overture
Air Traffic - No More Running Away
Explosions In The Sky - Welcome, Ghosts
Eluvium - New Animals From The Air

- Having never run more than 8 miles in a row, I have literally no clue how I will cope with the extra 5 I'll have to do on Sunday. Will I crumple to the ground like the world financial markets during the 9th mile? Will my pace be the same throughout and enable me to finish under my initial goal of 1h45? Part of the motivation to show up on race day is to actually find out the answer to these queries.

- How the heck are they going to shove 12,500 people through this course? I might have to resort to my old friends thunder and lightning (aka my elbows) to get out of that mess. Or maybe run faster, but that just sounds too tiring right now.

- Not having prepared so much during the past two months due to a three week vacation, then complete insanity at work during 3 more, my energy level has felt noticeable lower during the couple of runs I did since. To try to ward off any such weakness on Sunday, I've tried this sports-drink-in-a-jellybean product called Sports Beans, and I have to say it works pretty well. And it's actually kind of savory, which is more than you can say when it comes to its liquid brethren. Speaking of energy levels, here's the sad evolution of the adrenaline boosters I used on a particularly busy day at work last week:

first we have the classic red bull + diet coke mix, which is one of the many fascinating things I learned to do during an investment banking internship. It goes without saying that the diet coke completely negates the calories from the red bull (as if you were even going to ask)



then to step things up a notch, one of my personal inventions, and a matter of great personal pride: a green bull. Yes, you have guessed correctly, that is a green tea mixed with some red bull. Cheaper than cocaine, with double the heart palpitations. It's stroke-tastic!


and then a few hours later, because there really is nothing you can do to top the green bull, a big ol' glass of red wine. And maybe another (or four) after, I'm sort of hazy on the details.

I did feel awesome afterward, so I'm still undecided whether to stay the course of teetotalism before this godforsaken race, or to revert to the above-described plan. But hey, at least I've got my running playlist sorted.

jetting it

when the summer sucks as much as it does in this country, the only rational thing to do is to go to another one half a planet away, where it's the middle of winter. Australian winter that is. So after long months of never taking time off from work, the day is finally here. I'm leaving for three weeks, traveling in the Northen Territories and Western Australia, and ohboyicantwaititsgonnabeamazing.
Considering my very infrequent posting habits when I'm in Central London, I don't expect to do too much of it while traipsing around in the Bush. But I will be taking a ton of pictures, so that first post back should be a doozy.
So, off I go then. First up: the pool at Changi Airport in Singapore.

August, you say?

throwaway

among the many human innovations of the 20th century, television advertising is certainly one that deserves its fair share of criticism. So many billions spent every year to make people buy more stuff (they don't really need), in a cycle that keeps getting more pervasive year after year. In that game, Nike has always been at the forefront of savviness, using the medium to its full capabilities to extend its brand from a little-known athletics apparel and shoe maker in Oregon to a behemoth of world renown.
The thing with advertising is, when it's well done, it's very hard to not be affected. Especially for a company like Nike that knows how to play on the basic human emotions that are exposed to the core during sporting endeavors. Their latest campaign, simply titled "Courage", uses images of athletic feats spliced together with seemingly unrelated images to create a spine-tingling montage. The overall effect recalls what Foo Fighters did in their "Best of You" video (including an insanely badass scene of a she-lion attacking a condor in mid-air). Because the direction behind the images is clear without being overbearing, it is hard not to feel thrilled, even when your cynical side knows the whole thing is just designed to shill for shoes made by underpaid workers in god-awful conditions. Thankfully most advertising sucks a lot, so it's not very hard to feel turned-off, but ads like this one make it harder to disengage. At least until you've see it 27 times in a week.

free will

having completed my second shirtless run in a row today, I am now officially declaring open the summer season. It will probably last just two more days, but that would still be one more than last year, so who's complaining. Although since I was the only topless runner (I think I just increased my google searches by 479%) in sight, you wouldn't have known it. Walk past any English pub at 4pm on a Saturday and you're likely to find a few guys with their shirts off, pasty complexion and all, but apparently this doesn't apply to a situation where it's actually convenient to do so. Their loss, because there's definitely something liberating about the outfit. Although if you're gonna go for it, try to avoid a day when you're gonna stumble and fall across the gravel path.

stats
distance: 6.82m
time: 51'01"
pace: 7'28"
cal: 921

old fashioned

charm·ing / ˈchärming/ • adj. pleasant or attractive. ∎ (of a person or manner) polite, friendly, and likable
(Oxford Pocket Dictionary of Current English, 2008)


And to the guy running behind me who didn't stop or even ask in passing to check if I was ok after I took a big fall on the gravel path in Green Park, thanks buddy, really. Glad to know your training for Beijing didn't get derailed by any pesky mishaps.


Stats
distance: 6.77m
time: 49'26"
pace: 7'16"/m
cal: 915

laissez-faire

with a good friend and running buddy from work (now relocated to a different office) in town for the week, we decided to see if the old magic was still there. While I've improved vastly since this friend has moved away and I've started running mostly on my own, there is a very enjoyable part to jogging with someone. At least it was enjoyable to me, considering we went considerably slower than my usual post-work pace, but my friend soon had trouble keeping up with even small talk, and got to panting like he was running an extreme marathon. I could've sped up and waited for him at the finish line, as he kept insisting I do, but I decided to stick to the Army rangers motto, "leave no man behind", and tagged along for the easygoing ride. Sometimes the best way to get rid of the day's stress isn't to go full throttle, but rather to slooow it way down.

Stats
distance: 4.08m
time: 31'45"
pace: 7'46"/m
cal: 551

weezy

since I'm going to suffer from these stupid summer allergies, it sure would be nice to have some semblance of summer weather, too. And no, 19° sunny afternoons do not count, although to hear my British coworkers when we stepped out to get some lunch, it was like we were in Ibiza. Although you never know when they're joking about these things, considering how good they're at the deadpan humor. Something tells me they weren't in this case though.
Today's run was definitely the yang to yesterday's yin. Immense motivation, but 0 legs and not a lot of breath, which made for a slightly uncomfortable outing. In a way it's good because it's a reminder that running isn't about ease or comfort, but about perseverance (and good old-fashioned work ethic). Also I've now started tracking my pace when I run, instead of time/distance, and it does seem to make a big difference in regularity. Anyway I'll probably take tomorrow off, see how my legs react next time I go.

distance: 4.41m
time: 33'17"
pace: 7'32"
cal: 596

1 2 3 4

after my third run on Thursday, it looked like it would be easy sailing to complete a fourth one before the week was done. With 3 days to do so, the question wasn't if but when. At least that's how it should be in theory, but every since I took up the goal to run 3-4 times a week, I've hit a mental block anytime I've reached 3, no matter how soon. It seems there's always other things to do, people to see, places to go, before you can force yourself to go out there and achieve the elusive fourth run. While doing 3 in a week isn't bad in itself, there's always some resentment when you get to Sunday night and you feel you could have done (one) more.
Today I finally managed to motivate myself to go at 7:30 tonight, initially for a relaxed 4miler, but then ended up doing 6.7. One reason is that the weather was very nice, if a bit drafty, and with The Mall being closed to traffic the conditions were too perfect for me to shorten my run. Pace was pretty average at 7'56"/m, but I want to go out tomorrow, and possibly Tuesday, so I was trying not to do too much. Today was basically a reminder that it's always good to go for a run, as long as you feel well physically, and the only issues preventing you to do so are mental.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to enjoy a delicious dinner of baby carrots and ice cream.

Updated running playlist:
1. Jordin Sparks - No Air (duet w/ Chris Brown)
2. Wil.I.Am - B Boyz
3. Madonna - 4 Minutes (feat. Justin Timberlake)
4. Cute Is What We Aim For - Do What You Do
5. Coldplay - Viva La Vida
6. Eluvium - An Accidental Memory
7. Eluvium - An Accidental Memory In the Case of Death
8. Sigur Ros - Festival
9. Sigur Ros - Ara Batur
10. Sigur Ros - Fljotavik

can't stop won't stop

after yesterday's longer-than-usual run, I wanted to go out today to see how well I would do, and to make sure I got my minimum 3 runs in this week. Having a minimum number of weekly runs is one of the toughest things to achieve, once you factor in work, social life (oh, who am I kidding) and the occasional weekend trip. A couple of things I do to make sure I get to 3 every week is to start early (run on Mondays), and do at least 2 back-to-back. For some reason I often feel compelled to do the successive runs after one of my longer runs, just like today.
Because I wasn't looking to achieve a fast pace, I decided to try a slightly different route, doing 7.4k through Green Park and St James' Park, basically a shortened 3 Parks run with a twist. The weather was slightly end-of-worldish when I left the gym:

Yet in typical London style, the clouds just hovered in a menacing fashion without ever breaking open into streams of rain. In fact, after 35 mins, there was a dash of sunlight to be admired over the horizon. It never got warm, but that doesn't mean I didn't sweat my usual half-gallon:

(so that's where those 621 calories went)

Even though my pace was fairly average, if not mediocre, the satisfaction of putting in that all-important third run, while still enjoying the different route, more than made up for it. Repetition might breed familiarity, and increased performances over time, but change can be a much more powerful incentive when used sparingly.

where do you see yourself in 2 hours?

With my first ever race (6th grade cross country 3k notwithstanding) still three months away, I've started talking to coworkers about what kind of goals they have and what the best training tips are. And so it seems I've already got 2 preliminary issues:
1. My ideal time (1h30) seems way over-ambitious
2. I'm not going to be able to train much, if at all, from Aug 15 to the end of September

The time issue:
Since I don't have any reference points, not having ever run a race, or even such a distance, before, I'd previously guesstimated what my time could be based on my performance during my usual runs. The typical Hyde Park loop I do is about 6.8k, and I generally finish under 30 mins. 3 times 6.8k is about one half-marathon, so 1h30 should be feasible, yeah? Sounds foolish, but that's pretty much the reasoning I had before I actually gave some thought to it. First of all I've never timed myself for longer runs, so who knows what my pace would be beyond those first 7k. Second I always cross the street when the sign is green, so if it isn't that means I can take a mini-break (happens 1-3 times during a typical outing). And though such pauses don't amount to a lot of time, they give me time to recover, while my timer is paused. In race conditions, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to do too many of these if I wanted to do well.

The training issue:
Based on the feedback I've gotten from experienced runners at work, and multiple readings online, it seems most sensible training plans call for a gradual increase of distances over the 2-3 months prior to the race, to the tune of 10% per week or so. This is supposed to give the body some time to get used to the higher mileage, and avoid stress injuries so common in runners. With my race in mid-October, this means I should be doing regular but short runs right now (aka my usual Hyde Park loop), then increase it progressively in August and September, by which point I'd get to weekly 20k training runs. Only issue is I'll be away for 3 weeks from August 15, driving through Western Australia where I can pretty much bet a can of Pringles I won't be able to run at all. I'll be traveling in a van with my brother and cousin, and don't really foresee myself going off for even 20 minutes of jogging in the middle of the bush. An occasional run on the beach why not, but with a trip as awesome as this one, even that might be missing the point. And then I'll get back just in time for the busiest month of the year at work, with extended hours, pizza nights and weekend sessions sure to be part of the festivities.
So yeah, but the time Oct 1 rolls around, I'll probably be looking forward more to a few good nights' sleep than a return to pavement pounding.

Still, while these two aspects might pose a serious challenge to any record-breaking mindset, I should still aim for something that will motivate me to go running over the next few months, and beyond. 1h30 might sound like a perfect round number, as far as targets go, but in this case, I think I'll shoot for 1h37. Close to my initial goal, yet far enough to keep training, and improving, as I build on my pseudo-running habits of the past year. Which also means one thing: more donuts.

2008 mid-year top 10 albums

1. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago

2. Vampire Weekend - S/T

3. Sigur Ros - Me Su I Eyrum Vi Spilum Endalaust

4. Sun Kil Moon - April

5. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III

6. Cute Is What We Aim For - Rotation

7. Fuck Buttons - Street Horrsing

8. Drive By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation's Dark

9. M83 - Saturdays=Youth

10. Hammock - Maybe They Will Sing For Us

OK GO

Having amped up my running schedule lately (I would say it’s to enjoy the great summer weather, but irony is soooo 1995), I’ve been wondering what makes a runner. More specifically, when do you call yourself a runner and why? Ple1der wrote an excellent post on the subject, where he states that it's not about the look, it's all about the attitude. Meaning if you push yourself when you're tired, or wake up at ungodly hours to get a run in before work, that makes you a runner. While parts of his argument sound a tad elitist, the fundamental reasoning that a runner is defined by perseverance and resilience, i.e. inner qualities, is one I whole-heartedly agree with. And overall one I tend to practice, or at least try to. Just last Monday I spent 20 minutes of my run (the classic lap around Hyde Park) under a battering rain, with visibility close to zero. And I loved every second of it. In fact I might prefer running under the rain than in sunny conditions, because it clears the roads and gives an extra incentive to go faster. At least I do for 2-3 months a year, as doing this in mid-Feb is a bit more gruesome.

Despite this at no point have I considered or called myself a runner. To me runners are the people who do highly-detailed training sessions (sprint for 400m, then slower for 2k, then fast again for 800m, etc...) and do things like wake up at 8am to go run 12 miles. What I like about running is that it's a very simple act, that generally feels like the most natural thing in the world. My running method is based on 1 rule: if I feel good I go faster, if I don't I go slower. I always try to go as fast as I can, but if I can't so be it. Also, since I did a lot of competitive-level sports in school, ever since I have been looking to sports mostly for pleasure and performance, not really to put a quantifiable result on my level. Which might explain why the upcoming Royal Parks half-marathon in October will be the first time I participate in a race in about 15 years. And even then, I mostly joined because a lot of people at work are doing it and it should be a fun and sociable event.

However I have recently bought the new Nike watch-usb thingy, which connects to your computer to upload your stats after you run, and I L O V E it. I have to admit that getting an immediate feedback on your performance during and after your run is pretty amazing. Not just the timer, because any fake Casio bought in Chinatown could've done the trick for that, but having the pace, calories, and especially the great Nike+ website where you see your updated stats as soon as you plug it it: instant gratification/disappointment. I do understand the point of competing against yourself more now and the thrill to see you've just beat a PR (that's runner-speak for personal record. See, I'm even talking like one now). I still enjoy the sport more as an aid toward a healthier lifestyle than as a primary hobby, but if I can inject a relative level of competition into it, why not. After all a lot of my best memories from childhood are linked to sports, and though my dreams of being an Olympic champion might be far behind, a little competing here and there can't hurt.

So while I might still have a pretty narrow definition of what a runner is and not consider myself one, I think it's interesting to see how this definition might be incredibly different from person to person, just like I encounter dozens of people of different age, fitness level and running style during my jaunts through the parks. It's what makes running the ultimate democratic sport, and shows that it will never go out of fashion.

Oh, and I almost forgot the important part: thanks to running I can get that "occasional" raspberry-cream glazed donut from the Krispy Kreme stand at Tesco, without a single degree of guilt. If that's not something worth sacrificing for, I don't know what is.