Long Run (10.10k)

It’s retarded cold outside (-14°, feels like -24°) but, fuck it.

I’m going out anyway.

God help me.

It promises not to be pretty, quick, nor comfortable, but it’s gotta get done.  So I’ve loaded up a Desert Island album to help me keep warm and, ultimately, pull this crazy shit off, the ‘Laid‘  album by James.


Yes, the album with the dudes in dresses eating banana’s on the front.

After having become superstars in the U.K. with songs like ‘Sit Down‘ and then undergone an acoustic American tour opening for Neil Young, James took a consciously quieter, subtler turn with this, the anticipated follow-up to ‘Seven‘. This turned out not merely to be a nice way to undercut expectations, but a creative benchmark for the group, arguably its artistic peak.

And let’s not forget, at the same time they (with a little help from Mr. Eno) were expanding their minds with this masterpiece as well – click HERE.

While there had always been a folky, rushed element to the band’s work in its earliest days, the now-sextet, following the departure of trumpet Andy Diagram to concentrate on the Spaceheads, here focused instead on understated, moody compositions. Part of this approach no doubt had something to do with Brian Eno‘s production work, and certainly it’s another feather in his cap.

While his work with U2 combined with James’ own seeming assumption of that band’s throne in big rock terms could have resulted in ‘The Joshua Tree‘ redux, that didn’t prove to be the case.

Admittedly, a couple of songs are specifically aimed at arena-level singalongs, including lead single ‘Sometimes‘ (only one of my favorite songs, like, ever!*), which almost drowns under its own weight and speed, and the title track, a celebration of love and lust that ended up giving the band a surprise stateside radio hit.  But Tim Booth generally avoids Bono’s melodramatics in both hushed and soaring mode, his ruminative singing sounding more like the calm reflections after energetic action, the band’s quiet soundscapes a perfect combination of Eno’s ear for space and vastness and the group’s own abilities.

Strong tracks are legion, including ‘One of the Three‘, allegedly about British hostages in Lebanon but much more accurately a sharp, harrowing meditation on Jesus and apparently meaningless sacrifice, and the low-key beauties of ‘Out to Get You‘ and ‘Knuckle Too Far‘.  Personally, I think the tracks ‘Say Something’  and ‘LowBut the best punch is right at the end – the heartbreaking ‘Lullaby‘, a piano-led sigh of regret and wistful hope, and ‘Skindiving‘, Booth’s near-wordless keen at his most affecting, floating over the low-volume shuffle and bite of the band.

Well, I said it was going to be pretty and it wasn’t.  But there were certainly a few successes, namely completing my first 60 minute continuous run (10.10k) since November 5th (click HERE).

So, that’s pretty awesome.

Also, I lived.

That is, I sucked it up, stuck with the plan, and conquered the actually going outside part and getting shit done.  So in lieu of speed or distance, today’s real victory was more of a mental toughness thing.

Yay me.

*Mostly for the empowered inspirational lyrics of: “On a flat roof, there’s a boy leaning against the wall of rain/Aerial held high/calling, “Come on thunder, come on thunder”.  I find the imagery here of standing defiantly against the elements, daring them to do their absolute worst to be 100% motivational – especially given the stupid atmospheric conditions today.

About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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