Monday, 28 May 2012

Tend your own gardens


I like to refer to myself as a pragmatic Green. The reason that I use the modifier is because I like to base my world view on reliable sources, and do not feel the need to exhibit the hysterical and knee-jerk behaviour recently exhibited by "activists" who took part in Take the Flour Back’s recent "decontamination picnic" demonstration against Rothamsted Research - the oldest agricultural research facility in the world. The anger and frustration that I feel when reading their justification of intended vandalism is made all the more bitter by being mixed with sadness from the dawning realisation that potentially, with allies like these, the struggle to reduce the magnitude of anthropogenic climate change is an even more insurmountable task than I had previously realised – which is saying something.

How, I ask, in all earnestness, can you cite the (crushingly overwhelming weight) of scientific support for the biggest problem ever to confront the human race, whilst simultaneously denying the weight of research in other areas, such as nuclear fission and GM crops? Personally, I didn't have much of an opinion one way or the other about GM crops - there are many questions which are as yet unanswered, which is the strongest argument for ENCOURAGING research rather than destroying it. However, in my frustration I have ended up reading quite a bit and as I have gathered knowledge this area, it's become less of a mysterious, occluded and vaguely threatening enigma (with overtones of comic-book-style mutations) and I've moved steadily in the pro-GM direction.

There are scientific and emotive arguments on both sides, and it is important to consider these - but not endlessly. Once concerns have been addressed, a spectator without bias should theoretically change their view. However, when the most scientific summation of protesters' concerns (here) is speedily and roundly rubbished (in the comments section, especially Matthew Cooper) will this change a made-up mind? Doubtful. My previously unmade-up mind has been made by sound (i.e. I haven't seen them convincingly refuted) arguments for the research (or, at least against destroying it which is really the case in point here) that litter the web, from a rebuttal by the head of the project in The Telegraph, views in The Spectator, and those of similarly frustrated Greens, and elsewhere; for those who have not seen them, here is a short summary:

Contamination: The statistics are quoted and explained elsewhere, but as far as I can make out, whilst this is possible, it is so unlikely as to be almost negligible, as wheat is around 99% self-pollinated. Nevertheless, relevant precautions are taken, and thus around each field there is a minimum of a 33 m barrier, including a wheat “pollen barrier” between this and any other cereal crops or couch grass (the only known wild plant able to cross-pollinate with wheat).

Immoral bioscience corporations: this is the only anti-GM argument which I put any weight in, and it is an important question: Will the results of the trial be used protectively by large corporations interested only in their own profit margins; the answer is a simple “No”:

“Our work is publically funded, we have pledged that our results will not be patented and will not be owned by any private company – if our wheat proves to be beneficial we want it to be available to farmers around the world at minimum cost.”

This is the beauty of governmental funding for research, which has been such a strength of the UK.

Health effects:

“There's uncertainty about the health effect of this - there's been no adequate long-term health safety testing”

So there’s a lack of research in this area, is what you’re saying? And the answer to this is to destroy research in progress?! Health effects of GM crops are routinely trotted out to make an argument. If you think you are at risk from DNA within the plants, let me ask you this: Have you ever found DNA from your food affect you in any way? Symptoms such as sprouting feathers after eating a lot of poultry, or becoming rounder and redder in August when the tomato plants are fruiting and you eat several kilos a day? Maybe there are more complex questions here that are not being clearly asked – but spouting off about health effects without being specific is just propagating misinformation which serves nobody’s best interests.

I was brought up by a scientist and a green, who was one of the most unselfish and caring people I've met, believing in the better world which will come through advancement of knowledge. Despite this idea that science is inherently "male" (fundamentally so, rather than in the abysmal ratio of female to male scientists), I would argue that this is absolute rubbish - "science" is a much wider concept than is regularly appreciated, and is the only way to reliably pass on knowledge from one person/group of people/generation to another. A scientific mind is one that will build an opinion on the world around a firm foundation of demonstrable facts. If some of your facts later turn out to be false, part of your foundation begins to weaken, and you are required to rebuild it. There are too many things in the world for one person to reliably develop scientific opinions about; this is what research is for; checking the strength of these foundations, and proposing ways to rebuild if necessary. If I saw any kind of anti-GM arguments supported by a weight of research without the need for cherry-picking or blurring with misinformation and ill-defined fears, I would allow it to have an effect on my opinion - because of that "pragmatic" modifier that I use above. Far from fulfilling this gap, the group has refused to engage in honest and open debate with the scientists: I can only assume that this is borne out of an active unwillingness to confront the facts, and the normal people explaining those facts, that might force a re-address of one’s worldview. To this I would say: if you are afraid, and so you either fail to listen to the arguments of the other side, or do listen but do not allow them any traction on your opinion, you are apt to end up with a half-crumbled sandcastle of a view, which is not conducive to solving the much larger, Earth-shattering problems with which we are confronted.

Please sign the petition if you support unbiased knowledge: Sense about Science petition,

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

It's what time already?!

Argh! What a few weeks - a combination of work trips, long days and illness I've finally found the time to think about writing and starting my training - and just in time. I found, to my slightly aghast surprise, that my proposed training scheme begins this week. I'm actually a little disappointed as I was hoping to have a couple of weeks of doing other things, like a couple of classes (more below), some swimming and cycling, without having to take into account fitting in a certain amount of required running. However, now it looks like I'm just going to have to fit it all in. My BF will be pleased when he finds out he's going to have to a) cook my dinner, b) do with less of my company and c) watch me begin to force-feed myself high-protein foods. What a lucky, lucky man.

The first week's schedule is thus:
Monday: 3.2 km easy
Tuesday: 30 mins tempo
Thursday: 30 mins easy
Saturday: 4km

However, since I have managed to start the week incorrectly, it'll be more like this:
Monday: 5km/34 min + circuits class
Wednesday: Fitness yoga
Thursday: 30 mins tempo
Saturday: 5km

A poor substitute possibly, but what can you do? Next week I will toe the line - that is my promise to 10-kilometre-Angharad. She have some choice words for May-Angharad if not....

Today I am happily aching from attending circuits last night. This is a great class for anyone who enjoys pummelling themselves into the ground, sweating beyond any level of decency, and staring at their class partner with a look that incorporates many emotions: tiredness, pain, resentment, fear of collapse and/or death. I go to this class because for some reason, I take the sign that I have very poor upper-body strength to mean that I should attend a class in which the instructor's predilection for push ups in a variety of guises (and who knew there were so many?*) verges on obsession. Also because, when my mate asks me if I want to join her, I can't say no because then I would be a wimp. A giant, lazy, wimp. I have been said wimp for a while, and haven't been for several months. MAN and I'm paying for it now. However, the last time I frequented this class for sustained amount of time, I really did notice the difference to my arms within a few sessions, so given the complete lack of upper-body training in the rest of my life, I guess I'm just going to have to write it in the Filofax (yes, a real Filofax) every Monday from here onwards. I'd cheer, but I'm afraid I haven't the energy.

Bye then. I'm off to lie down for a bit, in order that I might rest my arms sufficiently to make dinner...

*push ups, planks, side planks, burpees (THESE ARE THE WORST THINGS EVER INVENTED!), push-up-and-row, 5 push ups and sprint, sprint starts, tricep dips, squat thrusts....

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Once more unto the.....

Despite an attempt to soundtrack my life with a musical score by Paul Simon (Mainly Graceland, obvs, but also Rhythm of the Saints), the bubbling over of positivity and motivation is fails to last more than a few minutes, and I'm finding it really hard to actually begin running again...

I've had the odd run since the winter, but nothing that resembles any kind of regular commitment. When I'm into a running schedule, there's nothing easier then getting up and outside, in the mornings, when I'm home from work, lazy sundays, whenever. When I haven't been running, the excuses are plentiful: my knee, my self-conciousness, my hair, I'll somehow manage to convince myself that a 5 km run can be equated by half an hour of cleaning my kitchen. I've drawn up a training scheme, the first part of which begins officially in May but I'd like to be running 2-3 times a week before I start that. However, at the moment I feel massively fatigued. I've had a couple of busy weeks but I still feel that I'm more tired than I should be - especially as the springtime is usually when I feel at my very best.

I'm possibly being a little hard on myself as I was in loco parentis of two (sometimes three) dogs last week and consequently walked over 25+ km in the space of a week, which is not to be sniffed at. However, walking is one thing (and one thing that seems to result in inordinate tiredness....), actually running is another, and my mind appears to be interpreting for my body, and making it sound like a teenager: "Guuuuuuuuh.... I'm TOO TIRED!". It does literally feel like my legs are full of concrete whenever I entertain the notion of popping out. And even when that's not the case, all those other excuses pop up. It doesn't matter how much I tell myself how good I will feel afterwards, or promise myself ice cream, or how certain I am of how ineffably easier it will be to continue than it was to start. Basically, I need something to force me to get out and pound the path around Roath Lake. Happily, there is brightness on today's rainy horizon: Wednesday is my day to walk Spud the collie, who needs to lead, loves running and won't take the piss out of me when I stopped jogging halfway round the route. So this evening, come rain come shine, I will be, in all my bright pink-faced glory, panting my way with a stony expression, past the swans, geese, ducks and pedalos to a new, bright future, the main difference of which is that it contains me running more frequently. Rome wasn't built in a day, people.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Exploring places that I think I know

So it's been a unpromising couple of weeks. And by unpromising I mean: I have not been for one run. I have managed a couple of walks though - this is my only achievement in the running stakes.

However I do have a reasonably good excuse that isn't (directly) related to excessive chocolate intake - I was hosting a week-long tour of Americans (two of them). I met John whilst I was travelling in China (where he was working as a school teacher) with two of my friends, and we all four of us spent many nights up together sharing stories about the significantly different places that we had grown up. I was lucky enough to go and visit him in South Carolina last year, and the favour was returned (by whom I am unsure). I had raved about how beautiful the countryside and the coast of Wales are, and I was pretty chuffed that even my descriptions hadn't prepared the two of them for some of the most breath-taking and dramatic scenery that the UK has to offer, if not the world. It's a bit of an assumption that we as a country do not have particularly amazing beaches, and if your UK beach trips have been limited to the South Coast, this is understandable. But in fact, we (not just Wales) have a wealth of amazing beaches of various types with stunning vistas, quirky wildlife and fantastic surf - I guess it's just the weather that limits enjoyment. Our trip took in Gower, the Brecon Beacons, honey ice cream in Aberaeron, Southern Snowdonia (including the cottage where Led Zeppelin wrote a number of their songs, Bron-Yr-Aur), North Wales, the Midlands, Cardiff, Bath and London. Going on an adventure in my own locality was one of the best decisions I've made recently, and the chance to get to see everything that I know so well through new eyes was an opportunity that came as a complete surprise, and reminded me how proud I am of all the places I am from specifically, and from the country I am from in general. Nothing like a little sunshine (and pouring rain and snow flurries) to help one see things in a more positive light.

This may not be a great revelation to everyone else, but it's a reassuring one to me. Paradoxically, it seems to me, that whilst the world is getting ever smaller, your own areas are actually much much bigger that most people might realise. There's a massive wealth of things to discover practically on your doorstep, from the best bread in the city to real-life wildlife displays (red kits, hawks attacking crows, lambing, wild horses scratching behind their ears, and the most massive pig you've ever seen in your entire life) to a B&B that's been in the same family for 500 years.

So that's me for today, I'm off to plan my now-cemented desire to take a long weekend cycling around Northumberland this summer. The next post will hopefully be about how I'm channelling this optimism, via lots of Paul Simon, into tackling my training regime, which is now extant, with gusto.

Enjoy where you live!

No matter how many times I walk it, I still love Garn Goch:






Sunday, 25 March 2012

Leg stretching and dog-exhausting




 In honour of the splendiferous weather, and to avoid jumping straight into any kind of training regime, I took Bronwen, who is temporarily in my care, out for a walk along the Taff Trail. Initially I just thought I'd wander round the parks but it was absolutely rammed. Whilst I've no fear about her behaviour per se, she doesn't really pay any attention to anyone else around, walking, running OR cycling, so not wanted to leave anyone with severe falling-/tripping-related injuries, I thought I'd wander in the direction of Castell Coch, which resulted in a 12.1 km long walk, in around 2.5 hours. Bronwen was ecstatic to be out, running around like only a collie can. I was a little worried at one point ans she started to go into a sheepdog-like crouch when we came in sight of some small fluffy white dogs. Luckily I managed to distract her with a stick - which quickly turned into a series of sticks of various shapes and sizes:





Each of which was as proudly loved as the last. She can get embarrassingly frantic about sticks, shrieking and barking until you throw them. Luckily she seemed to enjoy carrying the stick almost as much as chasing after it today. For a collie, Bronwen is inordinately fond of water (thanks to her spaniel older brother), and a couple of times leapt bodily from the bank into deep water after a stick (one time I unfortunately misjudged the steepness of the bank and had to get down on my hands and knees and yank her out, much to the amusement of some passers-by...). Happily, for my peace of mind, more stickchasing was done in a more sedate manner:



Post stick-collection, at least three thorough shakes are required.... otherwise you ended up with a bedraggled lump of ginger fur....

She's now conked out at my feet - I would be proud that I'd outwalked a collie but to be honest, she probably went about three times as far as did I, with the odd spot of swimming too. But she remained zoned long enough for me to plant some marigolds - for the nematodes - apparently they're good for protecting just about any veggies?

Congratultations to the Scarlets, who we watched beat the Cardiff Blues yesterday evening, accompanied by some lovely choral singing, including Calon Lan and Yma o Hyd, Cwm Rhondda and of course, Delilah. Llongyfarchiadau, Y Scarlets!

Friday, 23 March 2012

Second step on a 13.1 mile journey

Once again I'm dipping my toes into the blogosphere (previous travel blog here) although sadly I'm no longer travelling around the world, so I suppose I will have to up the stakes in terms of actual writing quality.

I decided to start this blog as I've recently taken a decision to achieve what until recently I would have assumed to be impossible, and run the 2012 Cardiff Half Marathon. This may not seem a big step but for years I have assumed I am lazy, overweight and incapable of achieving significant physical milestones such as this. I did a 5 km run years ago when I was first told I should lose weight, and it worked, and massively improved the way in which I see myself. But I never would have run longer distances - 5 k or 30 minutes was really my limit.

Then, a couple of years ago, the unthinkable happened and my wonderful father, to whom I was extremely close, died suddenly in a freak hot-air balloon accident. It sounds like ridiculous fiction; it's true. This is not the post in which to write how I felt about that - maybe that will come in the future. However, suffice to say, I found one of the only things that would let me escape my own internal monologue was completely exhausting myself through running, and so I took it up again.

For the last 2 years or so I have kept a spreadsheet with my speeds and distances, because that is the kind of dork I am (and proud of it) so I can track my improvements, which are small but significant.

Last year I entered the Race for Life 10 km in Clapham, London. Unfortunately, the course was messed up and I didn't actually end up running the full distance. Not achieving my very simple goal (RUN TEN KILOMETRES, IDEALLY IN SIXTY MINUTES!) just meant that I promptly had to enter another race in Cardiff. This one I completed, in 67 minutes. The very fact that this was achievable set me to wondering whether all the people who had exclaimed to me how surprisingly easy it was to run 13.1 miles may actually be right in assuming that the same might be the case for me. So it was that 3 days ago I finally bit the bullet and entered myself and my wonderous friend Sophie into the Cardiff half.

It's a long time away however (7 months and counting), so I need to get a ball of motivation rolling, and build up such momentum that I can hit my targets and achieve the formerly-impossible. To help me in that, I've decided to write about my next few months, including the highs and the lows and various & numerous opinions about the world, even if it's just for my own personal posterity. Alright, mine and my mum's....