Running the Hever Castle Half Marathon

When I run in the forest, I soar. Especially when I had been expecting a road race and ended up flying across dirt tracks, encompassed by thick trees, surrounded by fresh air and flowers and nature. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world.

For my birthday last month, my friend gave me a fantastic present – not only did she save up to buy me a brand new pair of running shoes, but she also got us both places in the Hever Castle Half Marathon.

Neither of us knew what to expect, but I was beginning to suspect it would be a little more hardcore than she had anticipated when I realised there was a triathlon on at the same time. Luckily, we were prepared – we ran 16k at Richmond Park the week prior, tackling the hills with ease.

But if that run had a max elevation of 56m and an elevation gain of 165m, yesterday’s half marathon features a max elevation of 84m and a gain of 301m. Understandably, I didn’t beat my personal best – one hour, 48 minutes – but, considering the difficulty, I did alright: 02:03:40.

The weather was (almost) perfect. There was a little mud left over from Saturday’s rain, but for the most part, it was a fairly dry run – great for the forest parts, not so fantastic when you’re in direct sunlight ascending a slightly inclined field.

But honestly, I loved it. I was taken back to my favourite run that I’ve ever done – Stirnu buks. Even better, in some respects, because here I can honestly say I ran for time. We had originally planned to run the first 10k together and split up for the second half, but the narrow paths prevented us from doing so. 

I have to admit, I’m glad they did. I ended up placing sixth among women (32nd overall) and first in my age category! Exciting.

Review: The P Word

It’s been a few days since I watched The P Word at Bush Theatre, but the piece has stayed with me. Waleed Akhtar’s deeply political, touchingly resonant play follows the parallel lives of two gay Pakistani men until they converge, at once similar yet strikingly different – a young Londoner moving from hookup to hookup and yearning for meaningful connection and a heartbroken, bereaved asylum seeker forced to leave a dangerous situation back home.

As they bond over Bollywood dramas and Alexander McQueen, we are painfully reminded of the chasm of privilege separating their individual realities.The staging is simplistic, yet effective. It contextualises our lives and our individual problems – not because our daily struggles are meaningless, but because they are so jarringly different.

While the play celebrates the joy of mutual understanding, it underscores the tragic fact that few asylum seekers are granted this basic human right. Reminding the audience that no one would choose to be an asylum seeker unless it was out of desperation, we’re forced to take a critical look at the conservative agenda, which uses fear to mobilise the masses by identifying a visible ‘other’.

Fighting War Fatigue: Ukraine Still Needs Your Help

There are so many things I could’ve chosen to write about today. London’s reaction to the Queen’s funeral. Waleed Akhtar’s thought-provoking drama The P Word, which I watched on Saturday. Yesterday’s exploration of Hampstead Heath. All worth reflecting on, but – at least for me – not today. 

Today, I learned that a former colleague has died on the frontline in Ukraine.

And I realised – despite helping Ukrainian family members who have relocated to another country, despite living with a refugee anxious for relatives in occupied territories, despite friends and former colleagues exiled from their homeland or living in warzones – that after many months following that initial shock, we’re becoming numb. Myself included.

But we can’t be complacent. This affects all of us. Does anyone really think Vladimir Putin will stop if he captures Ukraine? 

It should never have gotten to this point. But if we didn’t stop it then, we can stop it now. Don’t let Ukraine shoulder the burden alone. 

Please donate in any way you can. Come Back Alive accepts donations via card, bank transfers, and in cryptocurrency. You can also donate directly to my former colleague’s family by clicking here.

Women in Crypto: How will Web3 and the Metaverse affect you?

It’s an oft-repeated refrain, but time truly flies. It doesn’t seem so long ago that I was nervously rehearsing my speech on How Blockchain is Building a Better Future for Everyone in preparation for Women in Crypto 2021: ‘Tech, Innovation & Digitisation’. This year, Wirex returned to Level39 in Canary Wharf with a new focus: ‘How will Web3 and the Metaverse affect you?’

Throwback to 2021

I had wanted to attend in person to see my former colleagues and meet the incredibly talented panel, but I fell victim to travel disruption. My tube station was closed, so it was a choice between an hour-long journey with several changes or tuning in to the livestream. As you can understand, I opted for the latter.

The event was besieged by challenges. First, a tube strike planned for the same day, which, though called off, did not lessen the aforementioned travel disruption. Then, one of the panellists was unable to make it due to a delayed flight. Still, nothing proved insurmountable, and after a few initial stumbles, the event – and the panellists – found their rhythm.

Founder and Host of Women in Blockchain Talks Lavinia Osbourne walked us through how diversity and inclusion will lead to mass adoption – and, most importantly, how to avoid replicating the same exclusionary structures of web2 in web3. She championed events, interaction, and, most importantly doing.

Kerry Elson asked how being in the metaverse can evoke the same emotions as physical attendance, and how these new possibilities will disrupt mundane actions, like shopping, and shape the future of events.

Seema Khinda Johnson discussed how we define identity, sparking a reflection of what constitutes our identity – is it our name and passport number, or can it be our activity, our digital footprint? She spoke to how digital identity offers us the opportunity to keep privacy at the heart of our digital experiences.

Camilla McFarland tackled the opportunity for brands to build audience engagement with new, less invasive revenue streams. Instead of monetising through ad revenue, brands will be able to offer true value by enabling their customers to become co-owners of the brand, like the case of Adidas, which sold limited-edition NFTs – redeemable for real-world items – and receives 10% of any subsequent sales.

The audience could then ask their questions, one of which resulted in what I believe to be the most pertinent observation of all – that we’re misdirecting our attention onto the rails of the technology. Rather than focussing on how precisely blockchain works, it should be about the opportunity. As Seema wryly noted, nobody cared about VOIP when using Skype.

Women in Crypto is a fantastic event. Perhaps it’s stating the obvious, but I’m reading Everyday Sexism and am painfully reminded of how much further we have yet to go – women in underrepresented sectors, like crypto, need to be championed. These trailblazers are doing something amazing, and doing it despite the struggle of being taken seriously in a room full of men. So if you know of any women working in the sector, why not nominate them for the Rising Women in Crypto Power List 2022?

Review: The Tiger Lillies’ The Last Days of Mankind

I’m spellbound – or perhaps “shellshocked” is a better description. The artistry, the decadence, the “deep sadness, cruel black humour, and immense beauty” – perfectly described by the concert listing – of The Tiger Lillies’ The Last Days of Mankind has shaken me to the very core.

Inspired by Karl Kraus’ play, written in response to the horrors of the First World War, the performance – sadly – is just as relevant today as it would’ve been a hundred years ago. Songs like Die For Your Country or Hymn of Hate could be describing events taking place in the present as much as in the past.

The venue was perfectly suited. Everything I’ve seen at Wilton’s Music Hall has been phenomenal. It must be the ambience of the place – cracking, peeling walls and glittering fairy lights. And the acoustics! I’ve never felt so utterly enraptured, so in the moment, as sitting in the back row of the stalls, staring up at old war reels and the immeasurable talent of the “post-punk, cult cabaret superstars” (another description borrowed from the concert listing).

From Martyn Jacques’ terrifying dalek impression, shouting “exterminate!” while his bandmate created accompanying TARDIS noises on the saw, to the heart wrenching Million Martyrs for Love, the performance took the audience on a journey through all feelings on the spectrum of human emotions.

And while it may have been a logical conclusion to end with their most famous song, The Crack of Doom, it gave me a strange sense of hope. We’re all equal in the end – the crack of doom is coming soon. Something for dictators waging fruitless wars to bear in mind.

The Last Days of Mankind is running at Wilton’s Music Hall until 17 September.

Review: Horse-Play

Sometimes, I love my life. And that includes the frankly bizarre moments when a friend I’ve known for 20 years but haven’t spoken to in months writes me out of the blue to inform me that I irritate him with my desire to remain childfree, sparking an hour long phone call to argue about whether or not the world is going to shit.

Or when I meet another old friend for an 11km run and an opportunity to try out some newfound theories of causal determinism. Or host a painting party, where five of us try out painting by numbers. Or even when I take the dog out for his evening walk and catch a beautiful sunset, with Robert Frost’s eternal refrain ringing in my head – “nothing gold can stay”.

The point I’m trying to make in this long preamble is that I’m the sort of person who jumps at the chance to see a performance like Horse-Play at Riverside Studios – a play billed as being about the kinkier side of life, but really just features an awkward married gay couple trying to figure out what to do when their hired escort hits his head and gets amnesia, locking them in a sex dungeon until further notice.

It was completely silly, mostly innocent, and a whole lot of fun. There wasn’t a lot of chemistry between the leads, but I guess that was the point – after 10 years, they were looking to spice things up. I can’t say this was must-see theatre, but if you’re looking for a good time – pun completely intended – Horse-Play is running at Riverside Studios until 24 September.

Review: Berliner Philharmoniker at BBC Proms

Though my birthday was last month, the gifts continued into September. Yesterday, I was finally able to attend BBC Proms at the Royal Albert Hall – courtesy of a good friend, for whom this was the second attempt at getting me to go. This year, I managed, though admittedly not as well as I could’ve. 

I don’t recall whether the performance I ended up watching was the one I originally selected, as the description for the event states that the programme and conductor changed. Either way, what I ended up seeing was the Berliner Philharmoniker, conducted by Daniel Harding, playing Schnittke and Bruckner.

We arrived half an hour before showtime, ordered ourselves a pink lemonade, and enjoyed the view. Though nearly empty when we arrived, the theatre filled up quickly. When the orchestra appeared on stage, the audience sat captivated. Me, on the other hand, not so much. While I tried to appreciate the passionate solos of Tabea Zimmermann on the viola, I couldn’t get over the painful screech of an incorrectly placed microphone. 

Besides, my eyes were closing. It had been a tough week. On Thursday, I was out until 5am with my colleagues, made it home for an hour-long nap, and was back in the office by 7:20 the same morning. Understandably, most of the weekend was catching up on sleep – as well as a last minute boat ride to maximise the final days of summer. 

And so, I must confess, we left at intermission. I turned on Radio 3 in the car, and as we drove home, we enjoyed Bruckner’s Symphony No 4 with clarity of sound. I was enamoured. My husband was just happy he could finally stretch his legs. And as beautiful as it was, nothing could compare with climbing into bed before 10 and sleeping the night through.

As for BBC Proms, maybe third time’s the charm?