Finishing Line Photo

Unlike the moon landing, this has not been faked. Cool shades hey?

Big Fat Pig Completes First Triathlon

The Overgraduate without his Gok pants

I did it. Mark the date. Mark the place (Stratford-upon -Avon). All the greats have to start somewhere. I am now officially a triathlete. A very slow, stiff legged triathlete but a triathlete nonetheless. Photographic proof to follow, if someone can help me with the technology. I may even model the race T-shirt for you. I shall, of course, be wearing it casually about town for the next few months. I still wear my London Marathon shirt and that was 1996 for God's sake. I know I don't look old enough.

Because of my novice status and my (utterly accurate and honest) assessment of my swimming time I am out with those doing the relay triathlon (lazy bastards) and those doing the laughably named 'fun triathlon' (wimps) which meant they were only swimming and running half the distance but with the full bike ride thrown in. Indoor swim and we are sent off at 15 second intervals. I overtake a couple and one bloke overtakes me but I catch and repass him on the final length. Out of the pool, hand in my swimming cap (never worn one before - feels weird), down the slippery steel steps and into Transition 1. Have you ever tried to put socks onto damp feet really quickly without falling over? Bloody difficult. Swallow my pride and eventually sit down on the job. Number 955 grabs his mean machine and heads out onto the Warwickshire roads. As I had suspected this turns out to be my best discipline by a mile. I am passed by no one and I overtake a stack of people including quite a few who had gone off on their half swim before I started my full one. Feeling pretty chipper as I cruise back into Transition.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt

Pride cometh before a fall. I have hardly done any running because of my penchant for injuring my legs and have definitely not done enough bricks (bike + run training - see Overgraduate 26 Feb 2011). The last fortnight spent carbo-loading with Guinness has not helped either. (Note to self - this form of sporting diet is crap). Anyway Pig pulls away smoothly enough and I soon pass a chap I had spoken to at the pool side and who is only doing the wimp version. Clearly an inexcusable lightweight. Legs feeling heavy as expected but wind feels good. I can do this. Do feel a litttle sick which is my own stupid fault for showing off by eating an unneeded energy bar during the bike ride. Then a new sensation - my back goes into spasm, something it hasn't done for years. Stop. Stretch. It eases. Run again. Spasm. Stop. Stretch. Run. You get the picture. Net result a few people pass me but not as many as I overtake, mind you we are not exactly the finest flower of English youth out on the course at this stage. I even muster the energy for some gallantry at the end. A woman suddenly halts to a walk ahead of me. I coast (this is an exaggeration) up to her and encourage her to run with me for the short distance that remains. We chat briefly - I am relieved to find she is only doing the 'Fun' tri and she kindly feigns admiration of my greater effort. At the finish line I let her sprint ahead - that's my story anyway.

I cross the line to the cheers of my fan club - all two of them (Sharon and Helen) and pose for the triumphant photo. Bloody marvellous. Back now fine of course.

Verdict? Bring on the next one - Yorkshire 19 June is the plan, including my open water/wet suit debut. Absolutely miles better than a marathon - at least this time there was no sod in a rhino costume outsprinting me.    

... Are Brilliant Mark VII

Chapter seven in an occasional series on cultural icons and other stuff wot i like. Today we have: Modern Family. If you haven't caught this yet, please do so. Funny, warm, even edgy, all at the same time. This restores one's faith in the good old U.S of A. This is highly skillful mass market quality television comedy that we don't really do any more. Whatever did happen to the Likely Lads?

We are also today liking a newish beat combo called Goldheart Assembly, heard playing on Radio 4 and from whose website you can download their rather lovely new single for free - Goldheart Assembly

On an unrelated subject, please wish me luck because tomorrow the Overgraduate aims to become a triathlete. I have been carbo-loading for a full two weeks so if you see a fat middle aged bloke trailing around Stratford tomorrow hours after everyone else has finished, you will know who it is. If however he is lying on the floor please pick him up and point him in the direction of the nearest chip shop so that he can refuel.

Assignments Done .. Finis .. Finito

Next stop - dressing like a knob

It's over. I've handed in my last undergraduate assignment. So barring any retakes, that's me done for the second time. Let's be honest I've worked a bloody sight harder this time but I achieved that once I'd actually turned up for some lectures in my final year. It has been great, super, smashing , lovely. To all (well nearly all - it is exceptions that make rules fun) my fellow undergraduates a massive thankyou for putting up with me and catering to my inner juvenile. Both the juvenile and I have had a blast.

Similarly I have almost nothing but good things to say to the English Department at BCU. And today is not the time for the minor gripes. Regular readers needn't worry though because the Overgraduate has not forgotten his war with the forces of evil. I'm coming for you Howard (not his real name of course) with my steel toe-capped Converse. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Or not. You decide.

So what have we learnt these past three years. In no particular order:

• Governments see it as a point of principle to bollocks up education. It was like that when I did my first degree but the charlies in charge back then had nothing on the current crew. Yesterday David Willetts (who went to KES so I suppose we shouldn't be surprised) proved that if he really has got two brains, neither of them works in the morning, not at least when he is on the Today show.  
• Despite the politicians the young continue to make a fist of combining learning with pleasure. Quite bloody right.
• I think I may finally have put my 'A' level English result from 1978 behind me. It's been bugging me for all that time and I knew I could do the subject really.
• I can't play golf. I didn't have to go back to college to prove this but I am entering a phase of acceptance.
• Corman McCarthy - brilliant.
• Angela Carter - ditto.
• J.G. Ballard - ditto
• Dylan Thomas - ditto, I like a bit of pyrotechnics with my poetry.
• Christopher Marlowe - ditto. If he was alive today he'd probably be dead by now. You know what I mean.
• I still like Guinness. This is an affordable vice.
• I like Barolo. This is not.
• Evelyn Waugh - I had a crisis of confidence on this one but I'm over it now and turns out I was right all along - brilliant.
• Jonathan Bate - outstanding critic.
• I like Philip Glass and I discovered this by accident. If you keep looking (or more accurately in this case listening) you will find nice things. And bad things. But if you don't look, you will discover nothing and that is a spiritual crime.
• I enjoy acting and wasted three decades before I got round to it. Don't wait like I did. Next stop Shakespeare if someone will have me. How old do you think Enobarbus might have been?
• Years of rugby wrecks your body but it is totally worth it.
• People still read Steinbeck. This is a good thing.
• It is never too late to become a feminist.
• Or a post-structuralist.
• It is though too late for someone like me to become a teacher. The various institutions that rejected me will all I'm sure have good reasons but, you know what, sometimes you might want to take a punt on an unusual candidate. We might bring something to the party.
• If I'm absolutely honest I had a considerable downer on me at the start of this course. I have improved and am now nicely ambivalent about myself. Progress.
• Tonight I am going to have a big pizza. On Sunday I do my first triathlon. What's the worst that could happen? Don't answer that.
• You cannot have too much of Shakespeare, which makes him even better than Guinness or Barolo. Praise indeed.
• Most importantly, I owe Sharon so much for letting me have this much fun. God bless you sweetheart. I now fully appreciate why people have always said I don't deserve you. I hate it when people are right.

Overgraduate On Tour

As from Stena Nordica, Irish Sea.
Car ferries. Love them. Feels like an adventure every time you drive up the ramp and get swallowed in the sea-bound car park. Then you check into the executive lounge and order a breakfast you don't really want and definitely don't need. The boys are on the road again, four of us determined to refloat the Irish economy and play astoundingly bad golf between food and drink.

The team is: your correspondent here, fresh faced triathlete and bon viveur; team captain Big Willy Macfarlane still smarting from defeat in the warm-up at Bull Bay; John 'Boy' Brain will be flying in tonight trailing his usual chaos; Peter Johnson M.A. (Oxon) will drive over from Cork to lend a little class to proceedings. Wine will be taken, characters will be assassinated and a bloody good time will be had by all. I can tell you're jealous.

Willy and I have now finished the excellent Stena breakfast. Bring on the pudding. Free biscuits. Complimentary coffee etc. Today the Overgraduate is a happy bunny.

Overgraduate In Major Sporting Shock

Modesty prevents me from blowing my own trumpet so I will quote from Big Willy Macfarlane's entry in the visitors book here at the Roberts country estate,



Immensely difficult 15th at Bull Bay - easily parred by Overgraduate on the path to victory. Big Willy four putted.

Oh! What a beautiful morning - we're off to Dunmore East on another golfing pilgrimage. The only cloud in the sky is that I dreamt that David won the Bull Bay Classic yesterday. Pure fantasy of course. I will check with the Chavlings this morning.

Well, Willy my friend it was not  a dream. You really did lose to me at golf yesterday. This must be a low point in your existence, just as it as high one in mine. The Overgraduate has now officially cracked this golf malarkey - the key is not to play for eight months and not to hit even a single ball in practice. Having got a half decent round out of the way I can now concentrate on the serious business of the week ie getting legless and not sleeping. Number one boozing companion Brain flies into Waterford International (ie a field in Ireland) tonight. God bless us one and all.

Royal Wedding

D'you know what I've really enjoyed today. Royal wedding day. About which I might probably be expected to be cynical and sneering. But not a bit of it. It has been affirming and reassuring.

For reasons which aren't important I've been reading Bagehot on the English constitution recently and today's events have relevance in that context. The operation of the state is dependent on both the dignified and the efficient manifestations of government. Today we saw the dignified at its stately best. And you may well cry that this is absolute bollocks but just answer me this: could the United States put on a show remotely as impressive as this? Of course it couldn't. Which is not an unanswerable point but is one that should make one think. Bagehot was out of date almost as soon as he was published but, here's the rub, he had a point you know. God save the Queen.