• ABOUT

thinairfactoryblog

~ A topnotch WordPress.com site

thinairfactoryblog

Tag Archives: Regents Park

signs, messengers, wonders & a collision of flocks and fists

05 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by Thin Air Factory in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

art frieze, eating disorders, fun runs, Golden Compass, leisure activities, London Business School, London Zoo, Lycra Chafe, lyra belaqua, MAMILs, Obsessive Compulsive, patello-femoral pain, punctuation, Regents Park, Sociopathy, Spores, Trainer Rot, Voles

20150104_085513

Pedantry, punctiliousness, pomposity and particularity to name but a few of the leading P emotions and responses this crime against language inspires.

I spied it as I mooched around the periphery of Regents Park yesterday morning.

Lack of punctuation aside, its accidental pronouncement on the presence of runners in the park is its least dynamic feature. Anyone who has walked around Regents Park when any kind of collective Run is under way, either for Fun, a good cause or otherwise, knows all too well the tyranny that is a fist of runners (for that is my bludgeoning collective noun for them) heading in your direction.

It’s their park. Their path. Their arena. Their world. Their moment. And they’re seizing it MAN. And what the HELL are you doing? Huh? Mr beardy sloth-assed walking, looking thinking guy? NOTHING. That’s what!

The smug self-centredness of some of them and their sense of right of entitlement to the by-ways they tread is quite impressive if not a little delusional.

They are vaulted it would seem into divine superiority over all other bipeds, tripeds, quadrapeds (and mopeds for that matter) by the mere act of relentlessly throwing one foot in front of the other while sporting the kind of luminescent tops and inappropriate lycra also favoured by their close cousins, the far less sexually diverse MAMILs.

(Watching Flocks of these MAMILs circumnavigating the outer circle of the park tempted me to imagine for one delicious moment a cataclysmic collision of vitamin water bottles, hi tensile lycra, chrome, rubber, carbon frames, magnets, exploding trainers and performance insoles where fist meets flock. Efficiency and a dislike of waste and excessive logistical challenges also led me to further imagine that the mangled result of said collision could simply be shovelled a few hundred yards up the road and feature in the next Freeze Fair Sculpture garden – just a thought)

Anyway, to the sign in question, whose lack of punctuation (verging on an almost spiteful dereliction of syntactical duty) plunged me into all sorts of confusions.

The absence of punctuation actually raised (in tandem with my blood pressure) many questions (narrative, directional, nominative/ablative, relational, subjective, contextual, existential – you name it; the sign raised it).

This was effectively common criminal assault disguised as a leisure sports event sign.

My mind raced.

CAUTION RUNNERS

OK. Of course it could be a simple error. A slip of the punctuational tongue. Two full stops or periods absent without malice.

It should rightly read CAUTION. RUNNERS.

A clear sign to make me aware of the presence of Runners (plural) in the vicinity: but was that it? Or did it mean something more?

Did this sign demand that I caution runners? generally or specifically – and if so, against what or whom? Lycra Chafe? Trainer Rot? Falling branches? Designer dogs? Wind-borne Zoo animal Spores? London Business School alumni?

Or perhaps I was to caution them on the particular dangers of running itself? (long term joint impact & ligament problems – ‘patello-femoral pain’; lower back strain, compressed discs). And accidental health hazards & opportunities of punitive litigation – e.g. Collisions (with pedestrians, pets, park livestock, skateboarders and the aforementioned cyclists).

Or maybe I was to CAUTION RUNNERS on the need to be very very quiet given the arrival of a small pregnant female vole on the bank of the flooded ditch between the park and the zoo.

Or maybe I was to caution those guilty of knowingly or unknowingly disguising their eating disorder inside a seeming ‘passion for leisure activities.

Or perhaps the cautionary tale was around the subject of identity. Was one to caution said runners that being a runner was not all it was cracked up to be? Antisocial, smug, ultimately nihilistic: isolationist and self obsessed: potentially a sign of a deeper sociopathy, narcissism or compulsive disorder.

And then it struck me like a Gobblers Demon (probably while heavily under the influence of the dark magical realm of Lyra Belaqua):

CAUTION RUNNERS

Perhaps this was a brief window into the otherwise invisible systems of a mysterious breed of messenger – fleet of foot, immutable, unstoppable and relentless.

CAUTION RUNNERS – the mythical clandestine deliverers of cautionary missives, marks, data, intelligence, remarks and tales.

CAUTION RUNNERS We do not see them; but we know when they have visited upon us. (Think of those moments when we suddenly have a change of heart against some course of action or decision we have chosen or made. It is not our conscience or our fears talking. It is the cargo of the CAUTION RUNNERS lodged firmly in the back of our head.)

But then how do this mythical and other worldly sect of such daunting purpose remain unseen in the world? How come there is no proof of their existence bar one random accidentally placed sign?

They would be hard to miss. They will be patently odd. They will stick out like a sore, swollen and swaddled thumb. They will be incapable of normal socialisation. They would speak in riddles or some inexplicable language. Their human disguises would be clumsy. Their obsessive and compulsive nature would be difficult to disguise. They would be called upon to go out at all times of day and night. They would have developed strange codes of communication shrouded from the view of normal human beings. What earthly disguise could ever absorb so much?

This is a conundrum that I shall endeavour to solve. Throw a lens or filter across the seen world that will reveals them in all their splendour..

But until then, I’ll  continue to wander around the park, populated as it is by badly punctuated signs and a lot of awkward obsessed people in lycra and luminescent canvas talking in riddles to each other in the middle of a rainy Sunday, uncomfortable in their own…HEY…HANG on just one dang minute …HANG RIGHT BLOODY ON RIGHT THERE…

FOUND THEM!

Zoos, MAMILs & The Art of Going around in expensively dressed circles

31 Friday Jan 2014

Posted by Thin Air Factory in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Exec Ed, London Zoo. Self Assertion Courses, louboutins, MAMILs, Rapha, Regents Park, road cycling, Sherlock Holmes, velodrome

ImageIn trying to cross the outer circle of Regents Park to go and do my slightly shabby walk/run around its perimeter (a first world life structure challenge certainly), the most dangerous occurrence to present itself at 6.30am is not that of early doors muggers, the confusion of hybrid arctic meets monsoon weather or even a distinct lack of appropriate clothing; but a cluster of MAMILs moving at high speed.

(I am uncertain of what the collective noun might be for a group of densely-packed middle aged men in black and fluorescent lycra on bikes – a ‘weave’ perhaps? Or a ‘knob’?).

Much like our captive creature cousins at the Zoo across the park, these middle aged men disported in their tightly brightly tailored costumes (there’s theatre in every fibre of them) seem trapped in some perimeter prowl, hawking and screeching, unable or incapable of breaking free of the infinite circular trajectory they have locked themselves into – for an hour or so at least.

Now given the circular nature of their journey, there is little to concentrate on other than the ‘track’ curvature, rendering itself relentlessly to the left (they have projected the spirit of the Olympic velodrome onto the roads of Camden), the choreography of their individual pieces of kit and their own performance pay grades.

But I can tell you this: they do like a chat.

I sense this is both part of the bonhomie of a shared passion and a way of humanizing what might as with all obsessions be a cause often fought alone.

There seem to be two shades to their conversations that I hear wafting across the park when it is empty enough of people and other noise to allow their conversations to carry, whipping past ones ears as they hurtle through their next pain thresh-hold. And both of these are played out against a very particular audio backdrop.

So I’d like to just take a slightly closer look at:

1. Kit & Attack  2. Shop talk  3. Sound design

1.KIT & ATTACK

KIT – Discussing the detail (and believe you me the devil is indeed in the detail) of this exceptional pastime is the foundation stone of the evolutionary laws of the MAMIL. And though one might find the creation of a cycling babel fish highly desirable to navigate the conversation that would belie the integrity of their attentions.

The conversational skip jump through the delicious details of custom-moulded high-modulus carbon frame, pro-level transmission, Schwalbe Ultremo ZX, tyres and wheelsets, Titanium rotor and shift bolts, carbon Shimano and Campagnolo brakes (or should I say derailleurs) and the concepts of vertical compliance and decreased road buzz – simply demonstrates that this is cyclng at the top of its game.

I am told that the sheer exhilaration fused with exceptional attention to detail and a geek like obsession with kit and detail creates an experience that speaks for itself: which is a good job; because from some of the commentary I came across it might be better that no one else is allowed to. For example:

“Formula R1 with 203 rotor, these pads have the grip to endo at 30mph with no fade! Lets be fair from a single pot that’s seriously impressive. By no means is this compromised on pad life, Uberbike no what Business is all about, make a decent product and let the product do the talking. Theses pads were fitted along with some standard rears, despite all the pain the front brake has gone through the rears are shot and the front only half worn!! Speaks for its self. ”.

Attack – the manner in which they attack the task of circling the park demands fine shadings of performance between steadily increasing pace riding, sprints, and practicing the invisible baton change strategies of team position shifting across the pack line.

The circular whole comes into perfect balance when the excellence and performance metrics and shadings of the ride itself fuse with the cod motivational woops and c’mON!s and let’s push it PEOPLE! cries that fire out of the middle of the pack every now and then. But more of that in 3.

2. SHOP TALK 

The Day At The Office chat attacks are a little more difficult to bear. These are the equivalent of discussing staplers and A4 photocopier paper on the tour de france warm up stage. The nature of conversation is wholly at odds with the Rapha wrapped primaloft-insulated insects buzzing around the Regents Park velodrome

The most shocking aspect of some of the conversation is the ‘Office’– like banality of the content. It delivers all of the bleak ennui yet with neither the knowing nor the wit. It did cross my mind that perhaps this particular group that I encounter are a highly advanced cycling syndicate of data management programme software designers and logistics analysts with a distinct digital chip on their very slim shoulders, and far from representative.

But in retrospect I am certain they are in fact top of their game execs who drive their entrepreneurial and corporate businesses as hard as the super light weight framed pedal machines they sit atop: and I am probably just jealous of their camaraderie, observed from my lonely and slightly scruffy vantage point.

3. Sound Design

Sound Design seems quite an important part of the MAMIL cycling experience. The most emphatic aspect of this comes from the resonant motivational ‘call signs’ of the group carrying across the empty spaces or warping across your path as they pass. Most of the time these are indistinct, an aural fabric which they weave as they encircle the park.  But these ‘caws’ ‘barks’ and screeches’ do become recognisable if one gets on the right side of them. When they become clear enough to be heard you realise that there is a healthy (or unhealthy some might say) use of highly Americanised Whoops, Yeahs! C,mons, DO IT people, Push ITs!!! and various other inspirational inducements to better shouted aloud (or should I say ejaculated, given our proximity to 221B Baker Street and the oral outbursts of Holmes & Watson).

This may be to do with the style of institution or the cultural provenance of the corporations they work for. Or they may just have attended too many motivational Leadership and Performance Excellence seminars at a Golf Club Manor House Hotel just outside Guildford. Bonding over the shared air of a whiteboard conference ‘suite’ exec team session, high burn team building exercises, comedy evening drinking, a full cooked breakfast buffet with compulsory hangover bravado and finally zip wiring through a wall of flaming underpants to the deafening roars of ‘Lets win this thing’ leaves its mark on a person. Perhaps the mark is so deep it simply compels the MAMILs to exclaim motivational speaker speak at deafening volume in some fit of Exec Ed tourettes.

But the most particular, unique semiotic ‘sound’ resonates only at the point at which this streamlined gathering finally pulls to a rare stop; usually at the far corner of the park closest to Gt Portland Street. And that sound is the clatter of magnetic shoes released from the pedals to touch tarmac. The clack of a mag ball cycling shoe puts down a marker of the highest order.

The catwalk cacophony of the magnetic cycle shoe, the Louboutin of the cycling world, is powered by more than just a functional and material truth. It is a signature of seriousness, a statement of intent. CLACK I mean it CLACK Look at my thighs CLACK I burn commitment like coal CLACK protein super hero drink CLACK eat my TITANIUM.

Only committed people clack happily around in the non-cycling universe, the intermittent percussive nature of their movement proof that they are not bluffing.

To be fair this group are it seems exceptionally fit and have little in common with the MAMIL of legend – the Family Guy sporting the equivalent of Elvis’s Hunk Of Burning Love Suit rendered in under sized spandex, webbing and lycra. The ones I see are a rarer creature.

But it is for that reason that  I would flag a cautionary note.

I would suggest that perhaps, given their proximity to the zoo, their ‘matey’ calls, bright plumage and tendency to flocking, they might choose to be a little more discrete and less visible, less their rare species starts attracting the wrong kind of attention.

It would not surprise me to find, on my next visit to the Zoo with my children, a ‘weave’ of MAMILs circling a much smaller and far more contained enclosure; delighting the onlookers with their caws, calls and clack footed dance.

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • June 2021
  • December 2020
  • August 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • January 2020
  • October 2019
  • June 2019
  • April 2019
  • November 2018
  • August 2018
  • June 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • March 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013

Categories

  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • thinairfactoryblog
    • Join 93 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • thinairfactoryblog
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...