Tattoo... bless you!

Another year, another tattoo festival, another chance for news anchors to smugly open a story with “not just for bikers and sailors” just to give me the shits.

The subject of tattoos will still divide a room even today; only a few people remain who feel physically threatened just from the shear presence of a tattooed stranger. But as the moral pendulum swings around it gives us all an opportunity to do something stupid we can regret later in life.

I like tattoos, but I have always believed that because tattoos are so permanent, that they should represent something that means a lot to the bearer. For instance, I have a tattoo of my family crest on the left hand side of my chest. It is not because I am massively into heraldry or I value my family’s history, it is because I value my family.

My family is important to me and this way I get to keep them close wherever I go. It reminds me whenever I look into a mirror of the support they give for any goal I wish to undertake.

And it reminds me to call home every now and again.

Sooky it is, but it is a perfect example of the unwavering and unconditional dedication that you demonstrate by signing with a permanent ink in a drawn up contract on your skin. I’m sure the roses you have tramp stamped across your back strikes as a metaphor for life that there are pricks along the way but by persevering you will find beauty in the end. That star sign on your foot I’m sure is to remind you that sometimes life is not always in your control – no matter how you plan. That Maori tribal symbol around your arm is your unspoken commitment in the perseverance of ancient culture in the face of an ever increasing homogeneous society.

... No?

A close friend of mine has a tattoo of a slug getting “mounted” by a wasp on his shoulder. You can claim that it symbolises that no matter who you are or how you travel, there is someone bigger and meaner who will fuck you given the chance. I personally think that it is more likely that he chose it as a symbol for his undying support of alcoholism when we were teenagers and he thought it was hilarious.

So even then, in an obscure kind of way, it represents his spontaneity and fun loving demeanour in the cyclone of craziness that follows him wherever he goes. Do I respect him? Yes. Does the tattoo represent a time when I was finding my place in the world? Yes. Would I get the same tattoo? Shit no.

This running thing is stupid

Running is boring. Very boring. A “Fun Run” is a contradiction in terms just like “military intelligence”. The fact that they have prizes makes it a race with a special rule: if you are not having fun, consider yourself disqualified.

After completing the City to Bay last weekend it was easy to determine who was having fun and who was hoping that their misery would end soon. Those that would talk to me as my mate and I dashed through the crowd did with malice and steely determination in their eyes; they were generally not having a good time. They are not charging the enemy lines they are only running 12 k’s. Too many people take running way too seriously.

Why do I run? Because there is nothing on tele. The comedian Danny Bhoy said it best when asked about running:

“Danny, do you want to go for a run?”

“Why? Are we being chased?”

And I cannot go around stealing his jokes, although I want to when I face a blank page, but it is true to an extent. “Exercise” and “feeling good” and “fresh air” are bogus. Running is a pointless pursuit because there are negatives to the positives. For example:

• It is hard on your joints and ligaments
• Exposure to the elements and UV radiation
• Dehydration is a killer
• People look at you weird and if its night time, they think you are going to steal their bag
• On long runs your body breaks down and consumes itself to fuel your screaming muscles. It is good to stop at that point.

Okay, so all of those negatives were levered out A Current Affair style so I can justify my selling point, but I do not understand why the ideas of long distance running to be the pinnacle of fitness. When people desire to “get fit” why do they associate it with running? Fitness like everything comes in all shapes, sizes, and abilities; a footballer who is not match fit would still run rings around me. You can do things other than running to improve fitness, like taking the stairs.

I can guilt myself into running. After a bad food day – or a good food day some would think – I usually go for a run. When a major competition is coming up, I usually go for a run. If I need to catch a break in the traffic, I usually go for a run. If I need to catch a bus, there will usually be another so I generally wait. It is true I sometimes run by myself, but I would rather run with friends.

If you manage to find a mate who will run with you it turns a footpath slog into a catch up, a soul search, a problem solver, a brainstorm, and an opportunity to talk shit while they shake their head at your Bill Cosby impersonations. Those that do run already have trained themselves to zone out into music and most of us mortals cannot do that; so pair up people! You can utilise that same reason that makes it illegal to talk on the phone while driving, focus on a conversation and lose track on how far you have gone.

People become closer when they go through hardship together; soldiers in war, victims of disasters, prison inmates, and anybody who has had a rough night out drinking get closer as the stakes get higher. Running with people you know will help you get through the walls and the injuries to come, and take in the scenery with you as you go. Friends will turn a race into a fun run.