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Triathlete. Check.

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And that's David Dungan from ... uh ... Bailieborough, finishing his swim! I'm not sure if the hesitation was over an uncertainty on the pronunciation or they were just shocked at how slow I got round the swim course, but that wasn't the point. The point was with those nine words over the loudspeaker, I realized I had beaten my biggest fear of this whole thing and was now onto the bike. This was a spot I could get the hammer down and feel somewhat comfortable. I was on dry land. This was natural. The swim, though, that was brutal. Pool swimming is fine, but it just does not prepare you for a lake swim. Surrounded by other people. And getting kicked in the face. And taking a lungful of lake water. Simultaneously. My stroke disintegrated in that moment, some 450 meters from the finish and even now, 4 days on, I can still feel a tightness in my muscles from where I did everything wrong in the water. By the time I hit land again, my legs were like jelly and my shoulder
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Drown Bike Run

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I'm not a swimmer. My experience in the water extends about as far as getting flung into the River Boyne at Bective one glorious Irish summer and learning by not drowning. In more recent times, this has been expanded to include misjudging the consistency of mud in a stream bank and going in ankle deep. Don't get me wrong, I've been in the water a few times, but mostly what you'd safely define as 'horseplay' or arsing about. I'm not a cyclist. I'm fundamentally in the camp that believes the internal combustion engine far outstrips the human one and see no point in reopening the debate. I've owned one adult bike in my life - it was gold, it was hulking and it had 21 gears which I thought was great. I think I used 4 of them. I'm not a runner. Even playing sports, if there wasn't a ball that had to be put somewhere, I just didn't see the point. Running in itself is not a challenge, everyone more or less has the ability. And given the fact
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Why I'm Voting YES on May 22

Ultimately Ireland's Marriage Equality Referendum will boil down to whether or not a voter believes they have a say in somebody else's relationship. It is not, as the No campaign, and particularly the Iona Institute have tried to tell us, about children and their inexorable right to a mother and a father. Because, to be blunt, that is not a right. There are many families out there who do not have a mother and a father at their core. 25% of Irish families with children are now single parent families. Where exactly do these families fit into the bigger picture of the Iona Institute? It is not about surrogacy, which is presently unregulated in the country (a situation this referendum won't change) and it is not about adoption (which same sex couples have access to already). It is not an attack on religious beliefs or teachings. Religious schools will still be able to teach their beliefs in their religious classes. Although, while we're on the subject. When it c
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I've Forgotten How To Cross The Road

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Emigration, as an experience changes you. You're very much taken out of your comfort zone and forced to adapt. You pick up new habits and conform to new norms. You eat things you wouldn't normally eat. You become exposed to cultures beyond those that you grew up with and that you have moved to. Eventually, it just becomes second nature. In my case, this lead to a whole raft of wonderful experiences. I picked up plenty of new habits. Most of them good, I'd like to think. Most of them, I stopped noticing after a while. I started saying things like "trash can" and "pop the trunk". I'd genuinely go to the pub "just for one drink". Occasionally, I'd get stick from my friends at home when I started talking "American". That said, I still held strongly to some home comforts. I always made a point of watching the 6 Nations rugby championship, for example. I would pay over the odds for Toffee Crisps in sweet shops that carried them.
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Sport is a Cruel Bastard

I've noticed a trend in my televisual indulgences recently. I mean, I don't have cable, so I'm not at the mercy of TV peoples who decide what my choices are before I further filter them down. I rely on my interwebs for entertainment (mind out of the gutter, folks). I've signed up to Netflix, for example, as one source of TV programming. And the recent viewing category there tells it's own story. I like my comedies. More than that, I love my comedies. To the exclusion of almost all other genres. What's mine is blatantly obvious to see - Top Gear, Red Dwarf, Family Guy, My Name is Earl to name just a few. My trip to Ireland last year yielded 4 DVDs that I bought myself - three seasons of the Inbetweeners and the classic British comedy, Withnail and I. You see, I don't usually go in for Dramas. Sure, I'll sit through an episode of something if Leigh-Ann wants to give it a go, but unless it grabs my interest quickly - Sherlock, Deadwood, Justified, Rome -
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Save Our Bacon! Say No to Dolphins!

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Okay, seriously. I can't believe that this story even exists, but it does. And it is just so outrageously ridiculous that I felt I had to resurrect this blog to rant about it. There's no easy way for me to write this and not have you think I've lost whatever marbles I had left, so I'm just going to post the link (to the BBC website, I may add) and let you find out for yourselves. Human Rights For Dolphins So, there you have it. Scientists are now claiming that Dolphins and Killer Whales are self-aware, and that they deserve to be recognized as "persons". There is, apparently, a movement seeking support for a "Declaration of Rights for Cetaceans". Yeah . . . Before this rant descends into either A) me mocking this concept mercilessly or B) any readers I may have had accuse me of eating dolphins or C) A followed by B, let me state plainly that I do not eat Dolphin meat. I don't like the texture. But more importantly, if this were to gain t
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Dave the . . . Technophobe???

Let me start by saying this rant is probably going to upset a few people. If you place as much importance on why your tech-gizmo is more important than someone else's tech-gizmo as you would on why you love your child more than the neighbours, well, look away now. I'm starting to notice something about my life lately. I'm no longer up to date on all the latest gadgets and techno-wizardry that's going on around us. This has shocked me somewhat. Well, more than somewhat, I'm deeply, deeply perturbed by it. I thought I was cool, and still (at least partly) aware of what the world was doing around me. But then, it started to happen. A colleague at work recently announce he had just replaced a perfectly good car stereo. Why? Because he wanted one with a USB jack as he "hates CDs and is glad he doesn't have to buy the fucking things anymore". Yes, I was aware that the music industry had moved on and no longer vended their wares solely through HMV or any
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