Where The Streets Have No Name

I drive a lot in my day to day. If sport is on the radio I will listen to it. If not I will listen to Kermode and Mayo Film Review on the podcast and if I am up to date with that I will listen to U2. The other day I searched U2 on the BBC Podcast thingy and listened to a Radio 4 interview with them. The Edge was on about the simplicity of his chords and how he writes music with the idea that notes and chords are very expensive so he uses as few as he can. He keeps it as simple as possible. Of course he than adds the effects which give it the unmistakable Edge sound.

He played the opening notes to Streets without effects and the impact was immense. It's purity and simplicity was unnervingly beautiful. The impact was physical. The result is a sound that can fill stadiums borne out of simple notes in a box room bedroom. I played it back about 50 times whilst trawling through the mechanical wasteland known as the M42. Tears streamed down my face - a reaction I am having to get more and more used to as I have less and less control over my emotions.

You can listen to it here 10:38 into the interview https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/b00hpb1q

The point or link or reference I am trying to make is that something so simple and pure can rock the world and last week (I started this blog on the 5th February 2019) this was brilliantly exampled at The Spirit of Tamworth Awards night. Mich had been nominated as Coach of the Year. Something she has been doing for a relatively short space of time but which she throws all her effort into. Now, anyone can get nominated and if enough people nominate you then you're likely to get noticed but the panel look at the 150 word nomination messages sent in with each nomination. Mich, like so many of the other nominations in all the categories, didn't expect the nominations and didn't expect to win. Indeed notification of her being short listed surprised her to bits. The nomination they read out when announcing Mich as the winner was from a run club member who is recovering from a brain tumour and who had lost all her confidence. She explained how through Mich's run club and as a result of Mich's support she had regained her confidence and belief in herself. Whether she runs 5km or a marathon seemed irrelevant it was the belief that Mich had instilled in her. Mich will tell you that she doesn't really do anything other than get people together and make them run. Thankfully it's not up to Mich to nominate herself or give a reason because she entirely undervalues her impact on so many of us and just how much of a positive influence she is. Thankfully we know. Something as simple as "getting people together for a run" can rock the world.

Many of the other nominees in all categories and their associated stories were a real inspiration. Youngsters battling life threatening illnesses with a smile, fundraisers making a difference to others, people giving their time, money and effort to make someone else's life a little better. None of them doing it for recognition but doing it because they have a selfless sense of community. The room was buzzing with positivity. Humbling and inspiring. A lesson on how, tomorrow, to be a better man.
 

Black Dog Running

Today I ran with my Black Dog. The Black Dog. Side by side through the howling wind and stinging rain. So together I absorbed his anxieties, his panic, his fear and his loathing. I couldn’t shake him off. We were Siamese like. Joined at the hip. Through the woods he dragged me haunched to the ground. Labouring through the leaf mulch and ever deepening mud, rocks and stones shredding my hands and knees. Dodging falling branches becoming harder as the mud became thicker. Sometimes I’d begin to rise, to straighten to get free only for a sideways gust to whip a branch up into my face and drop me again to my knees. A salty mix of sweat and blood flowing into my mouth from my nose or the sting of red leaking into my eye from a split above. Either way enough to instantly put me down and gasp for breath. Every moment of relief, every burden offloaded, just a momentary pause. I ran today searching for a clarity that seemed impossible to find. There were glimmers. Miko and Chief tried to draw me away from the Black Dog, tried to free me, but a sharp ‘no’ called them away before I could be free. A wondering thought to something more snowflakey would see me almost straight, almost breathing free, almost in reach of the unobtainable light at the end of the tree lined tunnel. Every step became a chore, a reason to stop. Extra laps added as punishment for weakness increasing the frustration. Hips taking the brunt of each laboured effort up the hill. It wasn’t until the last lap that I took control, found a moment of clarity, tamed the dog constantly lurking in the background. Successfully dodged the remaining branches and skipped over the mud with a lighter feel. I’d gone out for 8 miles of control. I’d finished with nearly 12 and a resolve to try again. To be a better man.