Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Graduating: The end is nigh

So it’s over and done with. And if you hadn’t guessed by the title of this entry I’m not talking about England’s Euro 2012 chances after an injury crisis. Nor am I talking about the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations. I’m talking about my degree.
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Unlike the Jubilee celebrations the climax of university was rather a damp squib. With third years all finishing at different times, and in different ways (such as special projects, exams and dissertations), there wasn’t really a discernable finish, more a gradual disintegration.

If, as graduands, we were standing on the balcony at Buckingham Palace waiting for the fly past the Red Arrows flew over our heads out of formation, days apart. And instead of streaming glorious red, white and blue they were billowing black smoke, weathered by the ravishes of student life in Luton.

It’s been a strange few years in the concrete metropolis of Luton. And whilst some of my so-called peers would cite social events as their highlights most of mine have been outside of University. Working, and writing, for the BBC at Wimbledon (John McEnroe joked with me, Boris Becker liked my coffee and Chris Evert said I could: “grab her any time!”), being part of the production team on the H & J Show at Talksport and working in both the Eitihad and Wembley press boxes to name but a few.

These opportunities would never have been possible however if it weren't for the University of Bedfordshire . And not only has it given me a platform to launch a career it has also given me the chance to interview figures such as Dame Kelly Holmes and MP Eric Joyce.

I’ve had to listen to a lot of schmaltz and faux depression as many bemoan the end of their student lives, labelling these as ‘best years of our lives’. But my point is that university is merely a launch pad for us to make a life for ourselves. Yes, the lack of responsibility and, for many, the first taste of independence is fun. Living with your friends in a carefree environment, albeit in grotty student houses, is great. But what’s greater is getting paid for doing something you love. Using this money to buy, decorate and furnish your own house without any reliance on parents or the Student Loans Company. Nothing is more independent than that.

So if you can push past the hyperbole currently being spouted by those facing the prospect of moving back home and having to find a job remember that this is the start of our chosen lives, not the end.

Maybe I have the advantage of life experience, having worked and lived in London prior to becoming a student. I’ve seen the big bad world and it’s exciting. Scary but exciting.  

The key for graduating students now is not to lose focus or purpose. Yes, the shackles of academic essays and exams have been torn away, but this is where we stop relying on lecturers to give us direction and we take our own.

Anyone will tell you that the job market is now tougher than ever but I’ve never been deterred by a little competition and neither should any other graduate. Whilst we may not have the experience of others we have the advantage of being newly trained, enthusiastic and willing.

So my message to my fellow graduands and graduates across the globe is this: Show you’re willing to do literally anything for a job (and I mean anything) and hopefully things will work out.

Good luck!

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

All You Need Is Love?

If music be the food of love then give me some bloody headphones! As Valentine's Day fast approaches I thought it would be appropriate to approach the sticky subject of love. Well only sticky if you have bought your partner the right present I guess.

Now I'm not going to bang on about whether I believe in Valentine's Day or the commercialisation of love, I simply want to express my feelings about L O V E.

Firstly even the most cynical and cold hearted of us singletons has to admit that 14th February does nothing but emphasise that we don't have anyone special to shower with adoring gifts and symbols of our love. Instead we are left to brush past the crowds queuing with cards, flowers and boxes of chocolates in Tesco to get to the frozen food aisle to get our mircowave meal........for one!

Love is a funny old word. Men alot greater than me have tried, and failed, to define exactly what it means. It is a word that is also often overused. On a daily basis I express my love for Wayne Rooney, KFC and the blonde girl that works on the hat stall in the middle of the Mall. Does it mean I actually love these things? No. Well maybe KFC.

The problem is everyone is different and everyone defines love in their own way. In my opinion people express love in order to emphasise that they like something more than they like anything else. This is not to say that loving is just liking something alot but I believe people often confuse their own feelings. To love is beyond definition. It's not something that you make a conscious or deliberate decision to do, it just happens, and it does not need to be explained or justified, nor does it need to be readily expressed in order to make it more real or believable.

We are told in nearly every song and movie that love is what we should aspire to. We will be happy if we have love because it is the greatest thing in the world. We are told that it can make us feel better than anything else in the world or can cause greater pain than anything we have ever experienced. But does being force fed this opinion pressure us to try and find love? Or cause us to categorise feelings as love when they aren't in a vain attempt to have a 'complete' life?

Despite the cliches like "you only know what love is when you find it" we have all experienced love. Personally I love a few people unequivocally. My Mum, Dad and Sister. I'm not sure whether this is because they are my family or the fact that they are Holdens so they are instantly loveable. Everyone has at least one person in their life that they love.

Some might argue that loving family and friends is not the same as it is platonic love but I believe all love is truly platonic. You aren't physically attracted to your husband or wife because you love them. Just like you do not automatically love someone you desire physically. Love transcends physical desire, it is more about a mental connection. That's why Fred and Rose West loved each other, they were both completely mental.

There are some great quotes when it comes to best explaining love, but there are also some terrible ones. One of the most infamous is Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all". Really Freddy? It's better to suffer the indignity of sulking for 3 months, listening to Damien Rice, and watching Richard Curtis films instead of actually living a bit. I think you'll find "ignorance is bliss" Lord Tennyson.

My personal favourite is a gem from Socrates (I believe it was the philosopher not the Brazilian footballer). In an attempt to sum up love in a heart rendering few words he said "The hottest love has the coldest end." For me it sounds more like he is describing having sex in the bath.

So as the masses buy what they consider to be romantic presents to convey their love we should ask whether romance and romantic gestures are just a cheap way of feigning love. Surely true unconditional love is enough!

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Perseverance

I am over a week in to my strict nutrition programme and I'm still going strong.

There have been moments of weakness, I'll be honest with you. I've had the odd, broccoli induced hallucination where I'm some Willy Wonka figure, surrounded by chocolate and orange faced little people. By that I mean Umpa Lumpas, not people from Essex.

It's been more of a mental adjustment than just a case of choosing the right food. I've had to train myself to consider food as merely fuel, as opposed to the highlight of my ordinary day.

The task has been easier than I had anticipated. That's not to down play the enormity of the change I've made, or even the task that still lies ahead, but I have decided to dedicate all my efforts to making this programme a success and my will has, so far, stood up to challenge.

I have lost over a stone since the start of my programme and the whole of my body feels healthier. There is a spring in my step and my mind is keener than ever.

If I'm honest this is probably the first time in my life I have completely given 100% to anything. As a man that has high expectations of myself I think I have always subconsciously been half-arsed in my previous efforts, knowing that if I fail I have the excuse of not trying that hard. There are no excuses this time. I've exhausted every last sinew of self-discipline and determination to stick to this programme. The fact that I am already noticing the positive changes I set out to make will only spur me on further.

In my second week the exercise has increased. I am now running for an extra five minutes and my body weight circuits have increased from three sets to five. This means 100 squats, 100 press-ups, 2 1/2 minutes of plank, 150 sit-ups, 50 split leg squats and 50 tuck jumps four times a week. I should be an adonis by the end of this!

In a funny kind of way I have enjoyed the exercise. The loss of weight has relieved some of the strains on my joints and I have felt like I'm far more capable of pushing my body further.

I still miss a lot of food. And I mean A LOT! Not the fast food you'd expect but things like jam sandwiches, beans, parsnips, fruit and most definitely chocolate. The hardest adjustment has been going cold-turkey from caffeine. Especially when I was having a meeting in a coffee shop today, surrounded by beautiful aromas. Luckily I haven't been getting the shakes yet, or done my best Trainspotting impression and crawled down a toilet to retrieve some excreted coffee beans. It has, however, been hard.

Currently I'm looking forward to my allocated cheat day at the end of the 14 days. Details of my fast food tour will be released shortly. After that it's back to the grind of being healthy.

Regardless of how much I miss my tasty food, or how much weight I lose, I will persevere with eating the right thing. As Winston Churchill once said: "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."

Monday, 23 January 2012

Time to get serious

Well I've left it a few days since I last blogged. The relentless onslaught of information about my health kick was becoming both tedious and boastful.

I mean it would only be an interesting story if I had a spectacular fall from grace and was found collapsed in my bedroom, in a pool of the Colonel's 11 secret herbs and spices, suffering from a KFC induced coma.

There has been no such wobble (apart from my belly when I'm exercising) and I even managed to resist the array of culinary wonders on offer in London during a weekend visit.

Making the right decisions and eating healthily is becoming second nature. Even when I was surrounded by amazing aromas and visions of succulence in Greenwich market I opted for a lamb and salad wrap with houmous. Impressive I know.

However London did provide temptations, such as coffee and beer, that meant some of my exercise and healthy eating were undone.

This made me realise that I have to dedicate myself to a nutritional programme that was more strict and far more challenging. Just being on a reasonable programme is too open to interpretation and rule bending.

So as of Monday (I've been a bit late in writing this) I have switched to a strict weight loss programme that basically entails......you guessed it meat, veg and nuts but literally nothing else.

I'm not allowed fruit, dairy, starchy veg (potatoes or parsnips) or any dark meats.

The new programme demands I eat four meals a day and eat nothing fun for the next 14 days. The worst part is having to eat meat and fish for breakfast. Just when I was getting used to banana and yogurt!

So far I have eaten cod for breakfast, homemade tomato soup for lunch, then a prawn salad mid-afternoon and finally a lovely pork loin stew.

It's going to be even harder, I know, but I'm a man that likes a challenge. I just need to be inventive with my meat, if you know what I mean.

Don't worry, I've got Heston on speed dial!

Thursday, 19 January 2012

My first steps....

So today could be the first day of the rest of my life. The first day where fitness becomes routine and a permanent feature in my existence.

I have to admit I approached the first exercise session of my new health regime with some trepidation. Eating healthily is just a case of substituting bad food for good food whereas exercise requires effort and drive.

The programme is easy ........... on paper. I read it, probably under some illusion that I was Mr. Motivator, thinking that someone with athletic prowess like myself (again I was delusional) would breeze through it and within a couple of days I would be running marathons and crushing metal with my bare heads. I was wrong!

My exercise consists of four minutes of running, then one of walking, repeated five times. This might not seem much but 20 minutes of running is a lot from a man who's most rigorous exercise for the last two years has been chasing the ice cream van down the road.

The aim is to find a decent pace, running around 700m every four minutes. This is by no means a blistering pace but the idea is to build my fitness during the first week of exercise.

Following a three minute rest after the running/walking I then launch myself in to a body weight circuit. This consists of: 20 squats, 20 press-ups, a 30 second plank, 30 sit-ups, 10 split squats (either leg) and 10 tuck jumps. Repeated three times.

Again, this circuit isn't mind blowing but try telling my big, red, sweaty face that when I'm struggling to complete even the first set.

This morning was hard and after this week the work will increase, and it will get harder, but I've taken my first steps in to fitness and it feels good.

I was worried that once I had finished I'd feel like rewarding myself with a fry up but, if anything, feeling sweaty, knackered and achy only made me want to eat healthier. And I think therein lies the key to sustaining the programme. Changing the way I live and the lifestyle choices I make improve me, and as long as I continue I will feel like I'm constantly moving forward.

So I had some lovely (bland) natural yoghurt with banana, and nuts, for breakfast. Chunky vegetable soup and some houmous with carrot sticks, oh and nuts, for lunch. And for dinner I had steak with sweet potato and, you guessed it, nuts.

I know harder times lie ahead, when my zest and excitement about the programme fade, but I must always remember the end goal.

John F. Kennedy once said: 'Physical fitness is not only one of the most important keys to a healthy body, it is the basis of dynamic and creative intellectual activity.'

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

Change is coming

Someone once said that a change is as good as a rest. That will be last time I mention the changes I am making in the same breath as the word rest.

I am embarking on a personal challenge. A challenge of both willing and will power. A challenge that could be truly life changing.

I'm taking on a rigorous exercise and nutrition programme.

But why would any self-respecting student undertake a programme that involved no alcohol and not even a sniff of fast food? Well not solely because I want to lose weight. Not even because I want to give my appearance a 'face-lift'. And definitely not because it is a new year and I want a new start.

Lethargy is a disease that can creep in to every day life and cripple progress. I want to banish it from my life. I am now six months from graduating and it is time that I must fulfill my potential. I want to be fit, active, proactive and healthy.

I have attempted health kicks and diets before but all of those were vanity projects. The problem with vanity projects? In order for them to work you have to be vain.

I am an arrogant man, but not vain. I have always considered personality and intelligence worth more than appearance, something that is obviously lost on most of my 'peers' at the University of Bedfordshire.

So this new programme is different. I have recognised that laziness and unhealthiness are holding me back and I'm about to unshackle the fast-food, beer and fried food chains.

Take this blog for example, it's always been brilliant so why would I stop writing it? Because I couldn't be bothered. Why have I not been putting my comedic brain to good use and writing the next big sitcom? Too lazy. And why have I not been down the gym sculpting the body that this beautiful face deserves? Too busy eating.

So I have utilised my friends in high places to acquire the nutritional programme of a Premier League footballer. The same friend has devised a gruelling exercise plan to supplement this (I say gruelling, it isn't that bad but I'm scared if he reads this he'll make it harder).

Following the nutritional guide for an elite footballer is a daunting task but if an unimaginative, pampered millionaire can cope with it why can't I?

Basically it's all about meat. Meat and vegetables and not much else. Oh, I nearly forgot nuts. So meat, veg and nuts. Literally any slang words for male genitalia are considered good for you.

I went shopping for all these good foods today and it was a surreal experience. I walked past biscuits and sweets without stopping for the first time in my life and straight to the museli, that looks like it's been swept straight from the floor of a wood craft workshop. Then to the gluten free section for some pasta. And finally to an aisle that must have been designed with squirrels in mind. I never knew there were so many different types of nuts, seeds and dried fruit. I just grabbed the most interesting looking ones. Apparently I have to have a handful with each meal, which could be interesting if I have to put them on top of my museli. Surely that's too many nuts for any man, even one with testosterone levels like mine.

I proudly produced my goods in front of an uninterested, unimpressed middle-aged checkout woman named Denise. The glamour of a footballer's diet quickly evaporated.

Over the coming days and weeks I will be explaining what my diet and exercise routine consists of and how I am coping with it. I hope to prove that if a man that loves food as much as I do can do it then anyone can. Hopefully I might even become a Premier League footballer if I follow it (or at least pull a Page 3 model).

Tomorrow I start my four weekly circuit. Tonight I had my first proper meal of the programme. It consisted of chicken breast, brown rice and mixed veg. To say it was a taste sensation would be a lie, but you can't beat the taste of success.

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Cometh the eggs, cometh the man

I'm back in the picturesque town of Poole for the Easter holidays. I'm back in my old room, the shelves adorned with dusty relics of a misspent youth. I'm back in the bossom of the Holden family, getting my cooking and cleaning done for me.

It's nice to be away from the university bubble for a while, where you forget about civilised society and the fact that people eat three square meals a day, none of which consist of a burger. I mean I haven't seen fast food since Monday when I had a Whopper meal before catching the train here. At this point I expect my uni friends will have a few questions for me. So here's the answers:

1)No, not supersize.
2)Yes, of course, a large.
3)To be honest I thought I'd treat myself and have a double Whopper.
4)Bloody lovely!

It's also nice to be away from the depressing concrete metropolis that is Luton. As I write this I'm sat at the beach with the backdrop of waves overlapping golden sands. The nearest you'd get to this in Luton is a puddle of urine in the corner of a sandy building site whilst cars whiz across the fly-over.

Living with five other men at university has been an experience to say the least. I have discovered that so much testosterone coupled with inherent laziness results in a lot of mess. We do our best to clean as much as possible but trying to motivate some of the messiest men on this earth to clean a toilet is tough. I often feel like Stig of the Dump. Needless to say it's nice to now be in a house where there is no risk of accidentally ingesting hazardous materials, whether be in the toilet, in the kitchen or on the sofa.

Some might say it's no coincidence that my coming home coincides with a public holiday where it is the tradition to exchange chocolate eggs. They'd be right. I was looking forward to collecting the obligatory Creme Egg easter egg only to find that my do-gooding parents gave it to charity. What ever happened to just giving small change guys?

So whilst you tuck in to your lovely, velvety Easter eggs spare a thought for me, eggless. Some people say home is where the heart is. All I know is, home is where the eggs are not!