Knight Rider

I know I’m a bit late, but here’s something I noticed a few days back.

During the night from Wednesday to Thursday, the IOC announced in Guatemala who would hold the Olympic Winter Games in 2014. Salzburg was among the cities that really wanted to hold these games. It didn’t even survive the first round. Austrian chancellor, Salzburg’s mayor and a bunch of other people were quite distraught, but that’s not really what I want to talk about here.

The thing is, during the news, right after it had become clear that Salzburg was out, Austrian television talked to someone from the Austrian delegation who stood in some lobby in Guatemala. I wasn’t really interested in the self-pitty on display, so I scanned the background, and to my utter surprise, what do I see playing on a large plasma-TV? Well, yes, Knight Rider!

So there’s my patriotism. I’m more excited about a crappy old TV-show than the fact that Salzburg once again didn’t make it.

On running and failing and biking

As you are a vivid reader of my blog you are well aware of my forays into the world of sports, precisely into the world of running. While it may seem cumbersome and boring to some, running actually quite appealed to me from the start.

For someone who’s not exactly overly competitive, a sport requiring neither a team nor an opponent seemed perfect. Although early dips into the sport were accompanied by near-death experiences, I kept to it. Hell, I even created a damned sports category on here.

At this point, people usually describe how they’ve overcome their initial reluctance to exercise regularly. Well, I won’t step out of line here either. I did overcome my reluctance. But I didn’t overcome the fact that apparently my hip joints think differently. I don’t know why it is that way, and if it’s maybe due to me not exercising for the better part of 25 years, which has left me with hip joints ready to be replaced by shiny new titanium ones, but I simply can’t go on running. After my last two tries, I couldn’t walk or get up straight for a week. Which is not desirable when you do in fact have to get up everyday (and sometimes walk).

So, no more running for me. I did some research and asked people who know about things, and have thus decided to pick up riding my bike, as it is, apart from swimming, the sport that’s easiest on joints. Vienna does sport some great places to go biking, so almost everything’s sorted out already. What is not sorted out is the lack of my bike. Unfortunately, bikes do come in quite expensive shapes, and expensive is something I at the moment cannot afford.

So, in order to find a cheap bike, I checked out, but unfortunately, the Vienna branch isn’t really well developed. To be precise, it’s really quite pathetic. So, in a joint effort to both pick up some speed on the Vienna craigslist branch and my plans on getting in shape again, I’ve posted a classified in the bicycles section. Go there and answer my ad if you’ve got a bike (you want to get rid of, of course…no need in telling me that you’ve got a bike if you then don’t want to give it away). Please also keep in mind that although I’d like a cheap bike, it should still sport the most vital parts, so I can actually ride it.

The making of Marathon Man, Day 3

Today was the third time I went running. And today was the first time I managed to get through twenty minutes without a single panting stop. Which in my case is absolutely fantastic. You see, I’m so badly unshaped (I can’t use “out of shape” here, considering that I have never really been “in shape”), I wonder how my body managed to cope.

I mean, running for twenty minutes is more or less the most extreme thing I can do right now. If I’d run another two minutes, I’d have had such a violent heart attack, I’d have fallen off the track and into the Danube canal, without a chance of a dignified funeral, considering that my body would by now be floating somewhere near the Danube Island, and probably surface sometime in summer, discovered by a 70 year old nudist enjoying the benefits of retirement.

So, yeah, I guess it was time I started running.

PS: The fact that the Danube canal wouldn’t really take me out to the Danube Island may be filed under “artistic freedom”. Just in case you’re like me and take pleasure in correcting other people.