Taste the difference...

After my swim tonight I called in at Morrisons on my bike ride home. I usually go to Asda but it's further away and given that it was a bit drizzly and... blah... blah... blah... Anyway, I dropped in at Morrisons for a change.

Coasting up and down the aisles and singing along to the piped music, "...Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya. All yours, Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya..." my head was turned once, twice and once again. The eye-candy at Morrisons in Cardiff Bay is certainly attention grabbing. I don't think I've ever scored so high playing Hotty or Notty.

I couldn't help but compare it to my usual Asda experience, which, let's face it, is a little chavvy. It's not a great range on offer and the quality can be questionable - unless you happen to have a fetish for scrawny scally lads or big women in leggings. I'm pleased to say that neither appeals to me.

It was at that point that I heard my name being called. I stopped ogling and singing along to Kate Bush and turned to see a friend from work, Leah. I hope she didn't spot me totty watching...?

My life as a dog...

The one negative aspect of a great weekend is adjusting to Monday and everything it brings. A bright weekend can cast a long shadow over the working week. Usually, I'm quite good at this readjustment; only last week I returned from Gran Canaria on the Saturday and was back in work on Monday harbouring little reluctance or reticence.

Today was totally different; I just yearned for the easy and relaxed time I'd enjoyed over the weekend. I wanted to sit in bars and cafes and not at my desk or in meetings. The day dragged as did my feet and made everything seem like a challenge; simply going for a wee felt like one of the labours of Hercules. Today was certainly a dog of a day.

Glad when home time came, I cycled back to the Bay and bought a bottle of red on the way - I felt I'd earned it. I'd almost talked myself out of going for a run and into just opening the wine. However, something in me forced me out of the door and I set off in my usual direction - over the bridge toward the Sports Village. The weather was lovely and I soon developed a spring in my step. The corners of my mouth began to curl upward.

Passing Cardiff International Pool, instead of following it round as I usually do and onwards back to the Bay, I suddenly crossed the road and started running in the direction of Pont Y Werin over the River Ely. I surprised myself with this sudden change in direction. I'm not sure what possessed me. Before I knew it I was heading for the barrage, committing myself to a longer run than I'd planned. By now though, I was grinning.

I read in an old running magazine the other day that you should run like a dog; sprint, smile, trot, pant, change direction, get wet, don't get too hung up and enjoy it. It's excellent advice as it's very easy to become too serious about running, what with all the clothing, equipment and accessories. It's very easy to lose sight of what a fun, free and exhilarating activity it can and should be.

My run around the barrage tonight was amazing, made all the more so by it not being planned. The sun was shining and it really felt good to be alive. I felt like the dog described in the running magazine as I darted about, panting and enjoying myself. It was a wonderful reminder of why I run and what a simple pleasure it is in itself. It really is a dog's life...

Today's run at 17:25
Distance	7.50 km	Time	45:19
Pace	6:03 min/km	Cadence	82 spm
Comments: Sunny.

Humbling...

There is something magical about seeing an original piece of art, especially a famous piece such as the Mona Lisa at the Louvre in Paris or Guernica at the Reina Sofia in Madrid. I can't help but get excited because I'm only inches away from something so special and, in the case of the Mona Lisa and Guernica, created by talents of monumental proportions.

Of course we all have our favorite artists and works of art. For me, Hieronymus Bosch is one such artist and to stand in the same room at the Prado in Madrid as one of his most famous pieces, The Garden of Earthly Delights, was an exhilarating moment. Other moments of the same caliber were seeing Jan van Eyk's Arnolfini Portrait and the Wilton Diptych, both at the National Gallery in London. The list goes on.

And to that list I can now add the da Vinci anatomical drawings, having seen them at the Queen's Gallery at Buckingham Palace yesterday. Their intricacy and detail lend them a beauty and intrigue you can only marvel at. Just to be in the same room as something created by a genius of Leonardo da Vinci's proportions is humbling.

Tigers on Vaseline...

I traveled to London after work yesterday evening to meet my friend Howard from Manchester. After some food, a bit of gay bar hopping around Old Compton St and Brewer St and a not too late night, we were up and mooching about the capital by late morning today.

Our first stop was The Queen's Gallery at Buckingham Palace for the Leonardo da Vinci Anatomist exhibition. It's the largest exhibition ever put together of his anatomical drawings and notes; a simple but well laid out exhibition. My lasting impression was the inquisitiveness of this man and his capacity for attention to detail. Incredible and very beautiful.

A quick flit around the Buckingham Palace gift shop, negotiating the Union Flag tea towels, Diamond Jubilee embroidered cushions, royal themed crockery, Betty Windsor calendars and some tempting t shirts with "Princess" written in diamanté across them left us both feeling satiated with royalty to the brink of nausea; enough to turn anyone republican.

This was followed by a saunter through Soho and a beer and veggie burger lunch at Byron. Whilst eating lunch, I managed to track down the whereabouts of Heddon St on my phone. This is the location of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars album cover shot and is not the easiest street to find in London. Search for it on Maps on the iPhone and you are simply directed to Regent St. However, a bit of detective work revealed its exact location.

A quick mince down Brewer St and then across Regent St saw me standing in Heddon St, exactly where Mr Stardust himself stood some 40 years ago and a bewildered Howard forced to take photos of me doing so. It's certainly changed in that time, dotted with its cafes, bars and quick eateries. Judging by the photo, I don't think I'd cut it as a messianic, alien rock star.

We retraced our steps back along Brewer St to a bar that Howard knew called The Yard; on two floors with a little courtyard, we sat outside enjoying a couple of beers and watching the gay boys come and go. The perfect end to a lovely day out together.

As I write this, I'm sat on the train back to Cardiff. Opposite me are two Christians. I know this because they both have their New Testaments close at hand. They eye me with suspicion, as if I had 666 tattooed across my forehead. Perhaps they can smell that I'm a non believer? Well, I am wearing L'Atheist, eau de toilette pour homme by Lenthéric.

He is fat and much younger than her. He wears a red hoodie with "Playboy Mansion" emblazoned across the front with a photo of some scantily clad female to accompany it. He stares blankly; his mouth hangs open, the cavity filled by his swollen tongue. I catch him looking at me and his eyes flick to staring out the window again.

She is tiny, delicate and is pale to the point of translucence. I can see the veins in her marshmallow skin. She fingers a copy of "The Lady" as she slowly tries to eat an M&S salad, leaf by leaf, with a plastic spoon. Watching this is frustrating beyond belief. Were she a child and I her parent, I'd have to slap her and tell her to stop playing with her food.

Judy, Judy, Judy...

Forty three years ago today Judy Garland died. It was 1969 and her 5th husband, Mickey Deans (whom she'd only married in March of that year), discovered her body in her rented apartment in Chelsea, London.

The cause of death was an overdose of barbituates and debate rages as to whether this overdose was accidental or intentional. Her Wizard of Oz co-star Ray Bolger commented at her funeral, "She just plain wore out."

Garland had always had a large gay following and that increased following her death. It is said that the increased emotion around grieving for her was partly responsible for the Stonewall Riots in Greenwich Village, New York City in the early hours of June 29th (her funeral took place June 28th). The Stonewall Riots are cited as the birth place of the modern gay movement, "when the drag queens and faggots fought back" against the police raids.

Everybody has their favorite Judy film. For many it will be The Wizard of Oz, for others it will be Meet Me in St Louis. For me it has to be A Star is Born. Her performance of The Man that Got Away is perfection.

But not quite as good as mine...