Run, Fat Boy, Run

I am in so much pain right now! Oh man, no wonder I never exercise.

So, one of my friends came up to me last week and said “oh hey Charlie, do you want to come to Spain with me and a few of the boys” and I was all like “sick, yeah, sure, why not”. And then I started thinking “hang on, if I go to Spain, how am I going to get the rock-hard abs out whilst I get my tan on if I don’t have rock-hard abs to get out?”

Now, I really don’t exercise a lot, or at all really. This is the main reason why I was given the nickname “Sloth” at school and why it’s stuck (and why I named my blog philoslothical – funny world huh). But on top of the fact that I don’t really exercise, I like to eat. A lot. So far in my life, I seem to have managed to eat a lot, not be active and still remain stick thin – I was kind of annoyingly skinny for 18 years of my life. Now however, it seems that my metabolism has finally started to slow down and you can no longer see my ribs when I breathe in. I would never say I’m fat, but on a personal level I’m a bit flabbier than I would want to be when I strip off in the sun come May. So, I decided to take up running again.

I have a little bit of a history with running – that is, I used to run one mile every evening in about year 8 or 9, then I stopped for a couple of years until year 11 when I signed up for a charity fun run and went from no exercise to completing 9 miles in 70 minutes in the space of a 6 week training programme. In the 5 years that have passed since then I have probably put my sexy running tights on around about 3 times – I can certainly count my runs on one hand, and probably with fingers to spare. My mum keeps badgering on at me to get outside and do some exercise and I keep fobbing her off while she keeps calling me chunky (which led to a lovely argument this Christmas just gone but the less said about that the better). Anyway, this week was my watershed moment; I want to go to Spain in two months time and feel good in my swim shorts.

Squad goals (Image Credit: The Week/The Inbetweeners Movie)

So I downloaded the Nike + app, dug out my sexy tights and laced up my running shoes, which I bought from a special shop that analysed the way I run and matched me up with the perfect pair. When I set out I kind of just started running and hoped that at some point, my route would take me home. It’s very hilly where I live, and no matter what direction you leave my house in, you have to run up at some point, which is obviously not fun. I decided to head up the big hill first, while I still had all my energy, but the problem with that was I got about 100 metres from my house and realised I’d never been this far up the hill before and didn’t really know where to go. I ducked down the nearest side street and hoped that my keen sense of direction would see me through. There are some nice houses along that road, like reeeeeaaaally nice, the kind of houses that would probably sell for 7 figures and shouldn’t really be anywhere near student accommodation, but I guess they probably figured it was far enough up this massive hill that no lazy student will venture that far away from the gaggle of chip shops and Chinese takeaways that surround my house.

Anyway, taking this unknown route led me along some previously-unexplored Brighton streets until eventually I wound up somewhere I recognised and after that I kind of planned the route I would take home. I was pretty ambitious to be honest, and found myself pulling up and walking the last mile or so because I just couldn’t carry on. Still, 3.4 miles at a pace of 10 minutes per mile on my first run since forever – I was pretty chuffed with that, even if I did have to walk along the main road into Brighton dripping with sweat and wearing fucking running tights.

Like this but worse (Image Credit: The Telegraph/Run Fatboy Run)

When I got home, I texted Chloe to tell her about my run and she asked how Nike + was, as she wanted an app to run outside with now she’s at home and doesn’t have access to her uni treadmills and all the data they provide. I obviously convinced her to download it, and next thing I know we’d bet who could run a total of 200 miles on the app first, with the loser buying the winner a Nando’s with all the trimmings. Obviously, this meant I had to go running again the next day, so off I went.

This time I went down the hill, looking to register a higher distance because obviously going downhill means using less energy for the same amount of running, therefore I could go further and thus would win. I also stuck to roads I knew and planned the whole route out in my head from the start. The problem I ran (lol) into here was that I went along some quite busy streets and therefore had to dodge out the way of or get stuck behind lots of people. Anyway, as it turns out I pulled up in the exact same place as I did on my first run, albeit as I had taken a different route it worked out that I’d done 3.7 miles, and was rewarded with a recording of Paula Radcliffe telling me how great I’d done.

But oh man it didn’t feel that way. I know it’s supposedly no pain no gain, but when I stopped I did so because I thought I was going to be sick – probably because it was quite a warm day so maybe exhaustion or something? When I got home my legs were seizing up, and they still are pretty tight. I’ve got sore muscles in areas where a) I didn’t know I had muscles and b) definitely didn’t know I was working them – can you pull a rib? Who knows? And why does my neck hurt?

And to add insult to injury, Chloe went out that evening and beat my distance. What the hell do I do now? I tried to go running today but walking down stairs was like having my quadriceps slowly dissected, so that quickly made today a “rest day”. I do have to catch her up though, and overtake her, so I’ll have to go tomorrow. I’m not risking my Nando’s!

I’ve also downloaded some general fitness 30 day workout apps, and I’ll give those a try as soon as I’ve cleared some space on my bedroom floor. Currently, it has a few glasses, some uni work and the entire disassembled form of my chest of drawers on it, so I can’t really get in the middle of that and do some sit ups. But mark my words; come the end of May, I’m going to look like Ned Flanders.

JACKED (Image Credit: queerty.com/The Simpsons)

Forza Italia

I love indecisiveness. I’m currently in Leeds visiting my girlfriend Chloe (mojichlo.uk) and just the other day we were completely stumped for what to have for dinner. So, whilst arguing over whether to have Jamie Oliver’s Beef Kofta with fluffy rice or “pasta, chopped tomatoes and broccoli” (guess who was rooting for what), we floated the idea of trekking down to Jamie’s Italian. Thankfully, after another 40 minutes of debate, we settled on heading out.

If you’ve been to one of Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurants before, you’ll probably know where this post is heading. If you haven’t, then what the hell’s wrong with you? These restaurants seem to be springing up everywhere – I remember going to the Bath one way back in 2009 when they were almost semi-exclusive and there were queues around the block to get a table. First launched in Oxford in 2008, the chain now boasts 35 restaurants (including branches abroad) and has plans for several more openings in the coming years, which means the lines are somewhat shorter these days.

Now, I’m a huge fan of Italian culture. One of my dreams for when I’m old and rich (or young and rich) is to retire to a country house on the shores of Lake Como. A major part of my affinity towards Italy is my love affair with their food, so therefore any Italian-themed restaurant is going to get a big thumbs up from me. But Jamie’s Italian absolutely takes the gold medal. It wins on everything from the quality of appetisers down to the rustic decoration and cool old architecture of their buildings.

How sick is this building? (Image Credit: nitefinder.co.uk)

So, Chloe and I headed to Jamie’s Italian Leeds, which is a branch that neither of us had ever been to before. It’s set up in a building that looks like an old-timey bank, and takes up at least two large floors (possibly three but we didn’t go upstairs so I’m not sure). We’re both Gold Card members, so received free tasters of a scrummy risotto that I enjoyed despite the fact that it had ingredients that I don’t like (I think courgette was in there? Couldn’t taste it though so that’s a plus!). I would definitely recommend becoming a Gold Card member, even if you don’t go on a regular basis, as it’s free to sign up and means that every time you go you get free taster plates, gifts once a month (this month is a side of Polenta Chips) and even more free things within two weeks either side of your birthday; we went for both our birthdays and got a free bottle of Prosecco both times and a dessert – what more could you want!

Another thing I like about Jamie’s Italian is that the staff are always so friendly and helpful. Of course, you get staff like that in loads of places, but I find the customer service is always of a consistently high standard across countless visits, and at every branch I’ve been to. The very chatty waiter that served us sold Chloe the springtime tagliatelle with his animated and passionate description of the dish and of course, she loved it.

Tell me you don't love this cheeky chappy (Image Credit: John Lyle)

We started our meal off with the olives on ice (perhaps the best reason to go to Jamie’s in my opinion) and their meat antipasti board (perhaps the second best). The olives are a beautiful green variety that are described as the “world’s best”, and are served on ice to keep them fresh and juicy. In the middle of the dish is a little pot of delicious black olive tapenade served with “music bread” – think crackers – which does well to rival the actual olives for your attention. The antipasti board comes with a selection of Italian cured meats, cheeses and pickles/chillis, plus a little pot of a salad that I would never touch because ew, gross, vegetables. I followed this up with the Fresh Crab Spaghettini, which in hindsight I didn’t like as much as other items on the menu, but I still very much enjoyed. I’m a huge seafood lover so always tend to direct my attention to the bottom three on the pasta section, or as I like to call it, the “fun area”, and as I had had the Squid & Mussel Spaghetti Nero on our previous visit I opted to try something else. The Crab Spaghettini is basically lots of lovely little bits of crabmeat, cooked in a sauce that was made from lemon, anchovies and capers with chilli, fennel and parsley as a topping for a ball of very thin spaghetti. Personally, I don’t think there was enough crab in there, but that’s just because I’m greedy I guess. We ate our pasta with a lovely rocket and radiccio salad (dressed with the nicest balsamic vinegar I have ever tasted) and the Polenta Chips that we received free of charge – cubes of potato that baffled us when we wondered how they were made, but were delicious nevertheless. We didn’t have dessert this time, but I would highly recommend the brownie they serve.

Dat food doe

My one issue with Jamie’s Italian is that it’s not compatible with a student budget. While of course not every restaurant should or could be cheap as chips, and for the quality of the meals and ingredients you get the money is pretty damn reasonable, spending around £50 for a starter and a main for two without alcohol is not really something I can afford as much as I would like to. Chloe and I decided to take a little bit of money from our business profits (lamedesign.bigcartel.com – go buy something so I can go again!) which is why we were able to afford to go without a reason or special occasion, but I just wish it fit better in my budget so that I could go more often. Saying that, I’m sure that Mr Oliver makes very little profit on the dishes he serves at the price he sells them, so who am I to complain? 

And hey, it definitely beats “chopped tomatoes and broccoli”.

Little Drummer Boy

“So then Charlie” said my mum as we left the cinema, “which of those instruments did you want to play?” The year was 2003, the leading actor was Jack Black and, of course, the film we had been to see was the still-brilliant School of Rock. With barely a second’s thought, I blurted “the drums!” – influenced so I was at the tender age of 9 by the cool kid with the gelled blonde hair and sunglasses who sat at the back with the sticks. Her reply of “how about the guitar?” set me on the musical road I have followed for 12 years, but ever since then I have had a burning passion to be a drummer.

(Image Credit: School of Rock/geekynews.com)

I often find myself tapping out rhythm on tables, chair legs or even my own body parts. I have used an assortment of items as a substitute for drumsticks – everything ranging from pens to plastic bottles via knitting needles. Yet, I have never owned a single cymbal, let alone a full kit, and wouldn’t even dream of describing myself as ‘competent’.

So imagine my anticipation when I sat down to watch Whiplash – an Oscar nominated film (one of my favourite things) about being an incredible drummer (my dream hobby). And boy did it not disappoint.

The acting in this film is nothing short of astonishing. JK Simmons – whose previous most well-known role was J. Jonah Jameson in Sam Raimi’s Spiderman trilogy – is fully deserving of his academy award for his portrayal of Terrence Fletcher, a perfectionist music mentor that makes Simon Cowell look like a Care Bear. Miles Teller – also known as the party-guy from the Hangover/Superbad wannabe 21 And Over – plays Andrew Neiman, the young drumming prodigy who joins Fletcher’s jazz band and is fixated solely on his pursuit of success. At a base level, Fletcher is a bully. He’s abusive, he’s cruel and he will seemingly stop at nothing to get his own way. While he legitimises this approach to teaching music towards the end of the film (“There are no two words in the English language more harmful than ‘good job’”), the viewers are challenged to ask themselves: at what point does Andrew’s pursuit of greatness go too far? When should he give up? Is it when Fletcher throws a chair at his head for not quite matching the tempo? When he turns up late for a competition after being involved in a car crash? When he practices so hard and so fast that sweat pours from every orifice and his hands bleed from the sheer force with which he is beating the drum? At the end of the film [SPOILER ALERT], he gets up on stage and pulls off the greatest drum solo of his life, proving he is a drumming great and finally earning Fletcher’s begrudging approval, but at what cost?

(Image Credit: Whiplash/Variety)

Somehow, despite the subject matter of the film not being of particular importance in the grand scheme of things, the tension ramps up to levels that I last felt (in a cinematic context) during the raid at the end of Zero Dark Thirty. A comparison of the two scenarios seems silly – a life or death military operation to potentially eliminate one of the biggest threats to global security the world has ever faced vs. can some kid hit something well enough to please some guy – and yet Whiplash is an edge-of-your-seat thrill ride. I think a big part of that is the relatable nature of both the characters and the story; everyone at some point has had that one big dream, and everyone at some point has had a Fletcher-like figure. Of course, Whiplash takes both these elements to the extreme, but regular people like you and me probably see a bit of that harsh secondary school teacher or that over-demanding boss in him, and I think it’s this that makes you really want Andrew to come good.

In other drumming news, I found out recently that Matt Tong has left Bloc Party. Whilst, apparently, he hasn’t been in the band since Summer 2013, as a band they’re notoriously private and when I finally discovered he had quit, it kind of knocked me for six.

Bloc Party are without doubt one of my favourite bands; their second album was one of the first CDs I ever bought for myself and I have seen them live no less than 5 (!) times. I’m a big fan of their angular guitar riffs and biting lyrics and would thoroughly recommend their first LP - Silent Alarm - to anyone who wants to spend 50 minutes and 35 seconds of their day in complete audio bliss. A personal favourite of mine is Helicopter, a double-pronged assault on the eardrums, launched from the guitars of Kele Okereke and Russell Lissack behind a vocal line that seemingly takes several swipes at then-president George W. Bush (“Just like his dad… the same mistakes”).

Matt Tong was, to my mind, Bloc Party’s secret weapon. Whilst the talents of Lissack and Okereke are well recorded (Lissack in particular as an exceptionally talented guitarist), Tong’s drum patterns and fills provided a driving force to their songs that it seems hard for another drummer to replicate. The last time I saw them was (unbeknownst to me) after he had quit, and they played the show with a backup drummer who, whilst clearly perfectly competent, could not match the tempo with which Tong could beat out the more complicated rhythms and thus those songs felt a little lacking. It’s hard to understand just how important the drums are in Bloc Party’s songs, but to get an idea, try and imagine this song without the percussion:

(Bloc Party: Skeleton)

Hard, ain't it? Whilst there are rumours floating around the Internet of a fifth album, I have some serious trepidation about the prospect of Bloc Party post-Tong. First and foremost, surely the sound will be drastically different without the complex and aggressive drumbeat? Secondly, Matt is a very charismatic drummer, and is absolutely a fan favourite. He regularly performed onstage in nothing but his pants having either stripped off as the show went on, or simply come on already in just boxers. He has suffered a collapsed lung on two separate occasions whilst touring, and yet still kept coming back for more carnage. And, well, he just seems like an all-round nice guy.

So yeah, come back Matt! Then again, maybe if one of my favourite bands are hiring, perhaps now is the time to pick up some sticks… 

(Image Credit: School of Rock/Showbiz Geek)

Welcome

Hello! My name’s Charlie, I’m a 21-year-old politics student in his third and final year at the University of Sussex (in the ever-sunny Brighton, England) and this is my blog. Here are a few things about me so you know what to expect from my musings.

1.     I am a student who very much enjoys the student lifestyle. That is to say, whilst I love nights out, partying, alcohol and all that, my favourite part of University is the fact that it is deemed socially acceptable to have not got dressed or even out of bed by 5pm. In the words of that virgin media advert, I am a sofa bear. My Netflix is almost eternally running, if it’s not then I’m probably playing FIFA in my equally lazy housemate’s bedroom. Third year doesn’t count right?

(Image credit: Virgin Media)

2.     When I do make the effort to drag myself out of bed, I usually find my lectures rather interesting. I’m absolutely fascinated by US Politics in particular (despite living the other side of the Atlantic my entire life) and will no doubt mention the colourful cast of characters they have over there numerous times.

3.     If they sell it in HMV, I’m probably a fan. My Christmas list every year is made up almost entirely by DVDs, CDs or (less frequently now) Playstation games, and I don’t have much imagination outside of these three areas when it comes to buying gifts. I’m a massive lover of films and will happily watch anything once - favourites include the likes of Pulp Fiction, The Wolf of Wall Street, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and anything with either Marvel or PIXAR in the credits. I’m all about physical ownership of music and have over two and a half thousand legally acquired songs on my iPhone – gotta support the industry. Again, I’m not picky; I’ll listen to most genres and judge artists on the quality of music they play, rather than the type.

4.     I’m one of those deluded Liverpool fans. Every year is our year, Steven Gerrard is poetry in shorts and Brendan Rodgers is the greatest manager to grace these shores in the entire history of football. I rank Jerzy Dudek’s double save from Andriy Shevchenko in the 2005 Champions League Final as a greater miracle than the feeding of the five thousand and believe that Demba Ba is the worst human alive for robbing us of the title we so deserved in 2013/14. I expect there will be at least a few posts on my burning passion for the Red half of Merseyside during my time at the helm of this blog.

5.     I’m a colossal Apple fanboy, have been for as long as I can remember. I currently own an iPhone 5 and a MacBook Pro and am currently looking for ways to justify upgrading both to the latest models. I wake up all excited on the morning of a new iOS/OSX release, and even more excitedly on the morning of an Apple Event where they show off the next small iterations they’ve made to their products. If I could afford it, I would walk into an Apple store and walk out with everything under my arm but sadly that’s just a pipe dream on my current budget of approximately 37p.

6.     I’m in a band. Whilst we’re currently on hiatus as our guitarist is taking a year abroad in the US of A, ‘Five Dollar Shakes’ are planning a (small-scale) nation-wide tour in the summer. I play bass.

(Image credit: giphy.com)

7.     Finally, I have set up a business with my long-term (and long-distance) girlfriend Chloe (who also has a blog - mojichlo.uk) and we design, make, and sell various products such as phone cases and makeup bags; they're primarily aimed at teenage girls, but we’ve seen them have a bit of a broader appeal. I would really appreciate it if you could take the time to head over to lamedesign.bigcartel.com and check us out – maybe even buy something for yourself or a friend!

So yeah, that brings me to the end of this first blog post. Wasn’t that fun! I’m new to this whole realm of the Internet, so would love some suggestions of good blogs to check out. Feel free to follow me on twitter as well @philosl0thical, where I’ll be tweeting about interesting things and shamelessly (and relentlessly) plugging my new blog posts.