30 by 30: Growing Old Got Old

“You know the problem with grads? It’s their sense of bloody entitlement. It’s like because they've graduated, or have  gone through a ‘competitive grad scheme’ they are now obligated only to do the interesting bits of a job; get promoted without demonstrating any competence; and have things handed to them rather than going and getting them for themselves. When I started out, I knew I’d have to put in a good few years of silly hours to set me up for the rest of my career and I was more than happy to do so”

And there, ladies and gentlemen, you have the exact moment when I got old and bitter. I performed the holy trinity of bitter old man - answering my own rhetorical question, wheeling out the tried and tested “kids these days don’t know how lucky they are” and topping it off with a bit of “in my day we knew the value of toil”.

#29 Hangovers

Since I've started out on this little collection of 30 escapades there have been a few signs pointing towards me getting a bit old.

I shall present these in bullet point form as that is what old people tend to do:

• After the marathon, it took a good 4 weeks before my knees stopped hurting (Tough Mudder seems to have sorted that out now though)
• My long suffering wife is no longer happy plucking individual grey hairs from my head. She claims she'd rather have a (dashing) grey haired husband than a bald one. Fair point I suppose
• I've gone back to thinking that Simply Red's Stars is one of the greatest albums of all time
• I've caught myself complaining at how kids these days think they're entitled to a free pass and easy rid (In my day we had to work 18 hour days for thruppence ha'penny you know)
• However, most worrying of all of these are the multi-day hangovers

Me and the O-H hydrocarbons have always had a deal. On week nights, the little chaps always get away mostly un-drunk but on weekends, anything goes. In return for my benevolent weekday abstinence from ethanolocide, the little 'cohols and I had a clear and simple arrangement:

One night on the lash = One day feeling shocking afterwards.

#26 A Picture Speaks a Thousand Words...

...so I'm just going to leave this here:

#1 42,195m

I'm a cynical bugger.

Over-niceness, patronising praise and often simply the presence of the general public annoy me no end.

If people don't have their oyster card ready before reaching the barrier, walk side by side on a busy pavement or decide to take touristy photographs in a public place the red mist descends and this is shortly followed by some of the most extreme passive-aggressive sighing that would ever be deemed acceptable within a polite British society.

Last Sunday, however, people were awesome.

#21 Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiinnnssss

Two posts in one day? Madness!

Continuing the theme of lying in bed on an almost spring like Easter Monday, did I mention that I enjoy the odd spot of Xbox-ing every now and then?

Nothing helps to relieve the stress of everyday life than unloading the perfect 5-shot into the cranium of a pre-pubescent American 12 year old (through the medium of Xbox live before anyone starts phoning any emergency services). Almost as good is picking up the controller to essentially take part in a movie. Games have come a long way since Jet Set Willy and Manic Miner on my Amstrad with genuine storytelling, tension and, of course, explosive action.

But enough geekery for one day, back to the challenges...

#7 Aurora Borealis

My bed at home is awesome.

It's king sized, more comfortable than a ball pool filled with candy floss (although significantly less tasty) and mechanically produces a TV out the end upon the simple press of the button to allow in-bed-Xbox-playing during the early afternoon of an Easter Monday when the wife is gallivanting around in Australia.

A few weeks ago, life was less comfortable - sandwiched between two single mattresses in a double sleeping bag with one of the world's most prominent bed hogs in sub-zero temperatures whilst being overlooked by a couple of sinister figures was less than the five star luxury I have come to expect during my shut-eye.

#17 Le Canard Chubbie

A few weeks ago, a teen had their stomach removed from drinking liquid nitrogen. A few weeks ago, I nearly had mine removed for gross overeating (including liquid nitrogen).

Don't get me wrong. Heston Blumenthal is a Class A douche. His attempt to fix Little Chef was beyond a pretentious joke befitting of a man who's every ounce of personality was instead bestowed at birth to his estranged twin brother, Harry Hill.

Let me summarise by showing a photograph of Heston that best sums up his contribution to the world from a personal perspective...

#10 Boom Boom Dollar

Oh wonderous Bracknell, location of the film "Buddy's Song" - a heartwarming epic where the life and times of one Buddy Holly are portrayed through the stellar theatrical abilities of the one and only Mr. Chesney Hawkes.

Yes Bracknell, home of the John Nike Leisure Centre (referenced by such celebreties as Alastair G), the inspiration for the "Sound of Bracknell Ice Rink" that once filled the dark and dingy rooms of Hertford College Bar.

Most importantly Bracknell, home of the world famous for the Hollywood bowl - one of the few leisure venues I have ever attended that was manfully patrolled by members of Bracknell's finest doorman community. However, it was not the doormen, nor the prospect of flinging some turkeys, nor the fine cuisine served by its American-stle diner that set the Hollywood Bowl appart. No. The draw of the Hollywood bowl was one simple arcade machine...

#19 Hot Cross Buns

After the whole 3 Peaks fiasco I was getting a little sick of these challenges being so, you know, challenging.

This whole crusade is supposed to be about enjoying the small spattering of youth that remains before I accept my post marital procession towards obesity, hip replacements, retirement (assuming I'm ever financially and legally allowed to do so) and a final swift and memorable round of bucket punting (I'm currently thinking a Baumgartner-esque stratosphere leap is the way to end it. Sans chute, obviously).

Whislt making for a good story, there was very little youth enjoyment in the three peaks. See, militantly herding idiots (my co-challengees obviously excluded) who are at least 20 years your senior does little to reinforce feelings of reckless youthful abandon.

I must admit that I have spent some time wondering if this whole 30 by 30 malarky is just a bit of a chore.

I needn't have worried - all it took was a slight flick of my right wrist and it all made sense again (ooh er missus).

#2 The Sweet Smell of Failure

Last weekend I ticked off #2 - Do the Three Peaks Challenge, but only on a technicality. A pretty big technicality.

It's a technicality that, depending on the exact moment in time, I am either very happy about or slightly embarrassed by.

Here's why...

#11 Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking?

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"No I'm thinking what I'm thinking"

"So you're not thinking what I'm thinking?"

"No, 'cause you're thinking I'm thinking what you're thinking!"

(Flight of the Conchords - Same Girl)

I hate "comedy" songs with a passion. Whenever I go to a comedy club and someone comes on stage with a guitar, I go to the bar.

There are however three exceptions to this rule. The Lonely Island, Tenacious D and, of course, the Flight of the Conchords.

Why? Because whilst all the crappy stand-ups start with some jokes and then come up with a tune, with these guys the music comes first. The songs are actually good - catchy, well produced and often parodying (but not simply changing the lyrics of) classic tyoons. It helps that the lyrics are then also genius.

#18 Stop...

...hammer time?
...right now, thank you very much?
...collaborate and listen?

Not exactly, but I am back with a brand new invention (or two).

Ashley Young and the 6Ps

So, turns out it's 18 months until I'm 30 (18 months minus two days now) and not a single person bought me a 28 and a half-th bithday card, let alone a gift.

Well, I'm all for self gifting so I bought me a return train ticket to Southampton and wandered over to one of four 10m diving board equipped pools in the country¹. I threw on my swim shorts (Speedos are never necessary) and swam a quick 150m in the pool as a warm up (all helps towards the six-pack I suppose)...

30 by 30: Growing Old Is Getting Old

"So we all, are growing old, and it's getting old...

...Suddenly, we decompose, but we're not alone"

(Silversun Pickups - Growing Old Is Getting Old)

Depressing isn't it?

Not as depressing as finding out you turn 30 on Friday the 13th of December 2013. If there was a 13th month, it would've probably been then.

Today, there are precisely 19 months until my 30th Birthday. And dammit, I'm not just going to let it creep up on me.

You see, I don't feel that old, in fact I'm one of the most childish people I know. I binge drink like I'm still at uni, love my Xbox and still find Family Guy and South Park hilarious. On top of that, I'm probably not far off the fittest I've been (and a good couple of stone from the fattest) for a while - yesterday's Tough Mudder is at least some proof of that.

So, last Thursday. I signed up for a marathon. Actually, I signed up to 2 within 8 days next April (although I probably won't get into the London one). Having done that, I thought "why stop there?".

I spent a lonely Virgin Train journey back from Coventry to London googling "bucket lists" and coming up with load of my own to get to the magic "30 by 30" list.