Back pain

So last week I did in my back. It was late, my wife and kids had just driven back from 3 days in DC. My buddy Chris and his fiance Lauren invited us out to dinner at a fantastic Greek joint in Gramercy called Kellari Tavern. It was delicious, but LATE by the time we got the kids home. I ended up carrying the tired wiggly kiddlies up to bed, twisting gently to put them to bed properly. It hurt, but I thought nothing of it. That weekend I ran about 5 miles, moved some furniture, then helped my “opposite friends” carry their (incredibly heavy) bags through NYC. All in all, by Tuesday night, I was basically immobile. My back was killing me.

I took Wednesday off sick to work from home, after not sleeping at all (in too much pain). I took some Tylenol but still couldn’t walk. I decided to adjust my Herman Miller Mirra chair properly and park my arse in it. All day. Turns out two neat things: a) if I am working from home I get a lot of sh!t done; and b) sitting in a well adjusted Herman Miller chair can be just like a chiropractor you sit on. It was awesome, it fit me, it supported my back, by the end of the day it felt 80% back to normal.

The next day I went in to the office and repeated the procedure (adjusted my Aeron at the office to fit properly and made sure I wasn’t perched on the edge or twisting in my seat) and it worked a treat! I jotted the following on the train:

Sitting on Metro north, trying to look after my back, the flickering of light from a passing train catches my eye as I turn to look across the East River at the northern tip of Manhattan, I see the profile of a beautiful woman, calm, refined, focused. Black silk, smooth cotton, sparkling silver, curved lashes brushing the curl of hair falling around the soft curve of her face creates a gentle cage for deep, dark, impenetrable eyes. She looks amazing. Why had I not seen her as I sat down? Where is she going, dressed like that at 10am? Why is she all alone? She hasn’t even seen me, and if she does, she doesn’t register that I exist. In NYC,  it feels like I fall for someone every day, but that is merely illusion, the illusion of choice. The grass always appears greener as they say. This is a lonely city. I think I see her loneliness, then again, maybe she had a bad burrito for breakfast.

So it’s Friday, my back is 95% better. I am going to try a test run tonight and see if I can run the Nike Human Race on Sunday. If I run ok, then game on … I’ll be one of a million people pounding the pavements across the globe.

Updated: I ran. On Friday. 4.5 miles, 43 minutes, race pace … my back is KILLING me. I will NOT be able to run the Human Race. I am a grumpy old man now

Filed under: happenings , back, girl, nike, ny, pain, race, run

Kuala Lumpur – Days 1 & 2

Here I am at 39,000 feet in a Malaysia Airlines A330, surrounded by plush red business class seats, announcements in Bahasa Malay, listening to the new Sigur Rós album Med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust. I have no idea what they are singing about, it’s in icelandic but they sound like a cross between Coldplay and the Shins translated into an incomprehensible language. Like the covers of English songs, sung in Malay or Mandarin we heard throughout Kuala Lumpur. It’s been the theme song for my first trip to a foreign country, where I don’t speak the language.

The night before I left, I was sitting on the sofa with my wife, trying to explain to her that I was scared. Scared of going to a country where I might not speak the language. She "pshawed me". She’s the world traveler, opened offices for global companies in Taiwan, been all over South East asia. Now she’s a mum. Here I am, no longer scared of strange lands, trying to find the words to describe Malaysia and Kuala Lumpur.

When we landed in Malaysia, In the airport, the titles in the book store window included "The man who drove America to war in the middle east", and "Why George Bush must die". As we drove out, it looked like Florida. Palm trees, vague swamps, wide open roads, occasional hills in the distance. But as soon as we began driving it became very obvious that I wasn’t in the US any more. The roads became, not choked, but concentrated with mopeds and belching light trucks carrying everything from trash to gleaming cling film wrapped Aeron chairs. As we drove into the city, the mosques and buildings began to aggregate into spattered exurbs of the city. Train lines defined the map of Kuala Lumpurs ex- and sub-urbs. The highways were still clear and new, the infrastructure of a petrochemical rich nation are still staggering, like Houston, but with smaller cars.

As we approached the city we saw the Petronas towers and the other marvels of Kuala Lumpur appear from the haze of burning Sumatran plantations. The air was thick with humidity and the vague taste of smoke. It is strange to land in a bustling third world city. Driving past abandoned buildings, huge tracts of single family homes (identical, single car garages, small gardens, new white washed walls, all empty), and quarries. Interspersed with Asian headquarters of huge multi-billion dollar companies. It is obvious that there is a significant influx of funds into Malaysia. There are huge gaps between the haves, and the have nots. I thought the US had an issue in this area. How wrong I was.

We arrived at the Mandarin Oriental, at 9am. The sun just blasting it’s way through the clouds, and way before our rooms would be ready. We settled into the pool and spa at the Mandarin. I ran a slow 5 miles, swam a leisurely 30 minutes, then headed in for a 50 minute Malaysian massage. Wow, THAT is the way to ease into a business trip. Exercised, relaxed, and clean we settled into our rooms and then headed out to explore the city. We headed to a small ecclectic mall, to shop for interesting clothes and nick nacks. Quickly, we discovered that it was like any other mall. We headed to Chinatown, to discover their "huge outdoor market of handicrafts" was nothing more than an elongated Canal Street. Hawkers, pushers, cheap imitation goods, and tired people selling tired things. It was sad. Brian and I decided to explore a little and try to walk our way back to the hotel in the sweltering humidity. After 45 minutes, walking and absorbing the patina of the lower side of the city we encountered 2 cars, a truck, and a van that looked like they had been crushed in the pliers of a major deity. I have no idea what kind of accident could create that kind of damage. To get back, we decided to take the local light rail. As we packed ourselves into the car, along with 300 of our closest strangers, we realized just how our personal perception of space was different from those around us. Sweating, groping, and clutching our valuables we travelled the 5 stops to the KLCC. I have never been that close to a Muslin in a full burkha in my life. She was literally spooned in front of me on the train, smelt of spice and exotic scents, and I felt like I was violating both her personal space and her religion for having to be so close. But I had literally no choice, and neither did she.

That night, I went down to the pool at the Mandarin to relax, drink a beer and read about Tokyo. Jonathan and I had decided to spend 2 days in Tokyo on the way back. As I set bursing my beer and eating delicious satay several Muslim couples appears. The sun had set over the hazy city, and the building lights were starting to illuminate the pool which had it’s own understated lighting. i have always found the Burkha very foreboding as is seems to drink in the light from around it. As the light receded into night the couple removed their burkha for brightly colored clothes: a red and white striped long sleeve shirt, long white pants, black head scalf. The couple then proceeded to do what any other couple hanging out at a pool did. Play fight, laugh, push each other in the water, and the husband, held his wife as she floated and "swam", fully clothed still in the pool. I also saw the same scene replayed in Jakarta

Filed under: happenings

London and Kuala Lumpur

So I left NY early in the morning (8.30am o be precise) and arrive in London at 8.30pm after a 7 hour flight. Not a bad flight, business class makes it nice. Cabbed it into the hotel, then walked about a mile to meet up with the crew at Smiths of Smithfield. Had a fantastic steak (grass fed, scottish beef, a taste not dissimilar to home in NZ!). And a few wines, then off to SOHO House at Shoreditch, a private members only club. I got sucked into some crazy conversation with a bunch of try hard fashion designers. Involved trying on a wee pair of $200 Marni shorts. It didnae work. But it was fun. Anyways they were significantly more drunk than I have ever been, and certainly was then … scary drunk. We then decided to walk the hour 15 back to the hotel, The Waldorf Hilton (woot woot HOT)! Walking back I couldn’t help but notice that the city of London is wackingly clean, UNTIL the binge drinking brits all ome out, then it’s like a urinal and sick bin all at once. It’s a scary trasformation, with people stumbling around so drunk they are falling down walking. NY isn’t like that, everyone is out to get something or someone else in NY. Not many folks get THAT squiffy. The UK was a whole nother level.

My “day” in London was thn basically over, with a whistle stop cab ride to the airport we flew out at midday.  So much for a whole day of sightseeing. We did drive past Buckingham Palace, St Pauls Cathedral, and Trafalgar Square. It was cute, but WAY too fast.

After a 13 hour flight we touched down in Kuala Lumpur. We flew over Europe, all the *-istans, India, and Myanmar. I laughed when the pilot said “due to some air traffic congestion over Afganistan, we have been delayed approximately 8 minutes”. Ha, nothing like JFK at the end of the day!

KL is a vibrant city, so old, so third worl, so first world. We are staying at the Mandarin Oriental, it’s freaking gorgeous and wonderful, and the service is excellent. I love our new client. We arrived around 9am, and our rooms weren’t to be ready until midday. So we all headed to the spa, gym, pool area, worked out, swam, got massages, and generally had a great time until our rooms were ready.

We all headed off to explore the city. KL is a real South East Asia melting pot. All races, all colors, all religions. It is hot. Not “hot”, but HOT. 95 and HUMID the whole way. We all end up grumpy and parting ways. I hit a crazy wee fashion mall (dud), chinatown market (dud, like Canal street but longer and less inviting), then cram ourselves into a local KL light rail to get back to the hotel. I wasn’t scared at all, but the Malaysian ideal of personal space is microscopic compared to the area we’d consider in the us!

Well, might try a nap by the pol before Jonathan’s birthday dinner tonight. TTYL!

Filed under: happenings , chinatown, hot, humid, kl, kuala lumpur, london, smiths