Life in the middle

My twitter dinner table.

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Hello everyone.

Shitting hell.

Sorry about the bad language, but these are exceptional circumstances, and there is a lot on my mind. This is the problem.

I'm signed up to do the London Marathon, which is a good thing - I'm going to run for Marie Curie Cancer Care, who deserve all the help they can get (I'm going to need your support, so more on that later). But before I think about raising money I need to start getting into running shape.

Amongst the few of you who read this blog there are maybe one or two (that's you Mum and Dad) who may remember that I've run a marathon before. You'd think it might make things easier. That's what I thought, but I was wrong.

Firstly, I'm just not as fit. I'm not really training at all. Sure I've been trying to do a bit of running, but I'm finding it hard to get into a routine. And it's three years since I last ran serious distances. In those three years the body has become a lot more brittle - the knees creak and the heart questions. And I end up telling myself to 'take it easy' - to 'pace myself'.

And what's more I have nowhere near as much time as I used to. It's easy to overwork these days for fear of the recession biting, or progress not being made in some abstract work sense.

But maybe all of that is the problem. The careful considered approach to fitness. The prioritizing of some spurious notion of progress at work. What's for sure is that it's not working at the moment.

So I'm going to try a new way, a different approach. Otherwise I just don't believe I'm going to be ready to run 26.2 miles in 2 months and 4 days. The different approach will be back to basics, Colman basics.

So, of course I need to run. A lot. More every day. But I also need to do more than that. I need to start cycling everywhere once more. And sometimes cycle somewhere far away. And I need to fight again. Even if I'm worried, or indeed I know, I won't be as good as I used to be, and that I might get hurt (last time I attempted a come back I fractured my eye socket and concussed myself).

And most importantly I need to get back to walking the stairs, they're the real test as the escalator is always there tempting me.

Work has to become less. 9am to 6pm, with the occasional extra. No more.

I reckon if I can do that I might have a chance of being ready. And feeling good about it. And I need to - I'm committed to raising £2,000 for Marie Curie, so no false starts this time.

Let's see what happens.

Ps. We'll talk money next time.

Thank you I.T.

That's what I wanted to hear.

That or maybe "sod it, we'll just give you a new one".

But for now I'll take "now with more RAM".

Beware of the guides.

If you ask me you don't need to bother with those fancy cultural guides that tell you what to do in cities like London at the weekend. You know the ones - Timeout and those of a that ilk. The rules of a stimulating weekend are much simpler than these titles would have you believe.

Take Saturday, for example. The wrong attitude is; what's hot, what's new, or what's recommended. No, what you need to do is get up very early, and meet friends for a nice chat over a cup of tea.

That's what I did, and it was way better than going to see  'In The Moment', I'm sure. And I know what you're thinking - can't you meet friends, have a cup of tea (a nice one), and then go and see 'In The Moment'? Maybe even with the friends you'd had a nice cup of tea with? Well, no. There's more to do than tea and chatting.

You can take a small trip outside London, and go and see the new offspring of old friends. If you're lucky there is more tea to be drunk, more chatting, and maybe even a little posed photography.

You can guarantee I wouldn't look that happy if I was in the front row at 'In The Moment'. Not unless I had a chance to meet the cast, and maybe tour the stage and set. Without those guarantees I'll be staying away from what I'm supposed to do, and instead making my own fun. Because last time I checked the culture guides there wasn't a listing for 'seeing your mates standing proudly outside their new houses in the country'.

Until that section arrives I'm making my own plans - even if they do take me to Buckinghamshire.

So there.

(I should credit the top picture to Ben, he took it with his newly fixed Samsung, good huh.)

What I've been doing.

It's been tough coming back to a non-Indian blogging world. So I've taken a little time to relax and find my feet again. But of course I've remained busy in life.

For starters I've decided to decrease my dependence on Big Yellow when it comes to my storage needs. My plan is to fire them soon, so I've taken on a small locker, with my name on it. I plan to paint it yellow and fill it with useless stuff very soon.

One of the things I've retained from India is a driver. Apparently this is utterly unsustainable during the recession, but for now it's a chance to put my feet up while in between blog posts, and on the way to meetings.

I've hung out with friends, who were all pleased to see me return, although they tried damn hard to hide it.

And I've consulted on matters of great import with the great and the good of the internet, knowing that while they might have stupid opinions, they also have kind hearts, and a keen wit.

I've run myself ugly.

And finally I've decided to buy a new car. I umm'd arr'd for a long time about which make and model would be best. I considered cost, fuel efficiency and performance, and in the end opted for a Ferrari.

 

They seem pretty pricey, so I'm going to have to save up a bit before I can actually get one, but it's an aim.  And one that's sure to pay off when everyone sees how cool I look in it driving about.

So that's what I've been doing. It's not much, but it's my life.

Inspiration reciprocation.

No Dan (the man), you're the inspiration.

Me through the (official) eyes of Gwen.

For those of you who've stayed with this blog through all the downs you might remember a couple of years back when Gwen Yip drew me as a naked Yakult bottle.

It was a happy time. I was working at Yakult and Gwen was working at Wieden's in London, trying to make her way in advertising. As part of that journey she wrote, and drew, a blog about her experiences. Capturing the characters, the work, and the things she got up to, in her own very unique way.

And that blog has now been published in Hong Kong as book, look - a real book...

How brilliant is that. Well done Gwen.

When she knew it was going to be published she asked some of the people she'd drawn to write a little thing for it, here's what I wrote:

"There are magical moments and details in the fabric of everyday life, most people miss them. Gwen not only sees them, but celebrates them"

I'm not sure where you can buy the book from (maybe Gwen will tell us when she reads this), but try and find it, it's a lovely lovely thing.

I have to go now as I feel the need to be naked.

Coming back.

It's been funny coming back to the office as we've had a big move around, where everyone has been given new desks, sitting next to new people (and a few of the old ones).

A lot of people moan about moving desk, packing up their stuff and shipping it to a new place, but not me. I don't mind it at all. I find it refreshing. On paper I've been dealt a bad hand as my desk is in the basement at work, near the kitchen and the meeting rooms. (We're awaiting extra space in a new building, so we're all a bit crammed in at the moment, and overflowing).

But it's not the location that matters so much, as the company. And boy have I been dealt a magnificent hand there.

First up, I've still got Julian. He always likes to be sat near me so there is a sympathetic ear when he wants to tell stories of his days working on the Frosties brand and staying up late watching 'Banged Up Abroad'.

Then there is Ryan. He does nothing but talk of the thickness and quality of his hair all day. Running his fingers through it, he challenges us to think of a better hair cut in history of mankind. We often cite JFK, but he just sneers and laughs.

Piper sits to my right. She claims to miss her old desk, her friends, the quietness of the 3rd floor, and the quality of banter up there. But I reckon all that talk is just a ruse to cover for the fact that she's planning a camping trip for her new desk buddies, she says she's not, but I don't believe her.

And finally, there is the internet's very own Doug E Fresh. He's loving the new desk arrangements more than anyone. It's like he's back at university all over again. He makes tea and toast all day, and wants to stay up late having all night bull sessions on the meaning of life. His enthusiasm is infectious.

We're tight now, give it a week and we'll be at each other's throats, I'm sure.

Goodbye India

Goodbye India from Paul Colman on Vimeo.

So that was India, to music.

Now I'm back, via several canceled flights and a trip to Germany, I have a certain fondness for the place, I miss it (and not just the concierge).

I miss the crazy, illogical, safe, filthy, shiny, vomit-ridden, and vibrant, all together in one place, where no one can drive. That's always going to be an interesting place to visit, right?

So go there if you can - just don't eat the prawns.

No snow for us.

Was lovely today reading all about the snow and fun everyone's being having in the London, I was a little jealous I have to say. But we know how to have fun here too you know.

For instance, just for the craic we got a tractor to work instead of the usual cab, it was dicey but fun. I parked it just outside the agency.

We then went to see India's famous 'dog on sand'. Everyone goes on about how good it is, but I wasn't that impressed. It's not much more than a dog on a pile of sand. People say there is some sort of social commentary going, that the sand is the ruling classes, and the dog the common man or something. But, as I said, to me it's just a dog on a pile of sand.

I was so unimpressed with the dog on a pile of sand that I decided to do what the Indians do, and squat by the side of the road, and have a think about things.

I can see why they like doing it - things are quickly put into perspective. Soon I moved on to a favourite spot of mine to squat. I'm not sure what it is I like about it, I think it's because it's near something yellow.

After squatting for about 3 hours we decided to see if we could find a cow. I knew there would be one somewhere. So I searched the farms, the fields, the woods, down by the river, the vets, and even butchers. But finally, just as I was about to give up, I found one kipping it down on the central reservation of the main road. Cheeky bugger.

I talked to him for a bit before realising he spoke no English and was in fact being brought to me in association with Vodafone. People wang on about brand experience being the future, but I wasn't blown away.

Back in the office the lights went out. Then came back on again for a while. Then went off again. This continued until someone fired the person playing with the switch (until then we worked in the dark).

Back at the hotel, where the lights remain bright all day and night, we arrived back to find the concierge faking a phone call to avoid having to talk to a guest (he needs training). He carried on pretending until the guest finally fell asleep and was removed from the hotel.

As a final treat today I thought it might be interesting to give you all a bit more of an insight behind the scenes of what it's like blogging in India, by sharing a bit about the style I've been using. It's an old Indian style dating back months. It makes use of shorts, a chair, flowers, slippers, and a frown. It's pretty 'out there', but it'll come your way soon, if it hasn't already.

The trip is almost over, almost.