Jack Whitehall, The Dixie Chicks and Sore Nipples

Well that was the weekend that was.

For the last few months this weekend has been penciled-in as D-day for my list. Poor planning on my part granted; but this was the weekend where I was set to complete numbers 22 and 27 from my list.

Number 22 was to take in at least ten new music or comedy gigs whilst Number 27, which for me was to be the toughest challenge yet, was to complete two half marathons...one of which had to be under 1 hour 55 minutes.

Chas 'n' Dave - not cool - but I clearly enjoyed it.

Let's start with #22. I wrote back in January 2013 about how music and comedy had played a big part in my life. Indoctrination by my father into 1950s rock 'n' roll as a child is something which, today I'm sure social services would step-in to save children from. But nonetheless, it had a big effect on me. As did endless hours in front of VHS tapes as a kid watching Only Fools and Horses, Porridge, Fawlty Towers and other classic BBC sitcoms.

So whilst my friends were taking in Backstreet Boys and the Fresh Prince of BelAir, I was listening to Eddie Cochran and soaking up the sarcasm and wit of Norman Stanley Fletcher.

So getting out to see live music and comedy was something I really wanted to do again. Well, this weekend, I've finally, completed my list of ten new gigs, and you can see that my dad's influence lingers on. The fact that I'd put Chas 'n' Dave in my top three gigs is testament to that.

Jack Whitehall

Jack Whitehall. Funny posh kid.

But whereas musically, I'm often drawn back to my childhood, my comedy tastes at least have moved on. On Friday night, I went to see Jack Whitehall - the new posh kid on the block - whose sitcom success with Fresh Meat and Bad Education has made him the freshest new comedy talent in the country. I went with my brother Ian, his friend Nick and my sister-in-law Sandi. Whitehall was very funny...perhaps not as funny as his debut stand-up tour - but funny nonetheless. His comedy clearly aimed at the BBC Three student generation, I did catch Ian and Nick glancing at each other on occasion with a rather confused look upon their brows. Sandi and I helped fill in the generational gaps which were clearly lost on these two mid-thirty somethings. Although I can understand why they'd be confused...this is the generation who held-up Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer as comedy geniuses...something which I've never been able to fathom.That was Friday night.

The Dixie Chicks

Saturday would see me do a 200+ mile round-trip to London to see a band which I've wanted to see for more than ten years. 

I should start this by apologising publicly to my friend Dav. I mocked him mercilessly a few years ago when he took himself off on his own to see Welsh opera-hotty Katherine Jenkins. Well, with no friends wanting to join me at the O2, I made my way to the UK's Country & Western Festival on my own. There's something inherently tragic about that, and if I'm honerst, a little bit of my died inside when I got there and sat on my own. But the self-loathing was ultimately worth it. It was also my first return to the O2 since (or the Millennium Dome as it was called back then) on Millennium Eve. As a family though we've taken a vow never to talk about that night again. 

This trip to the Dome wasn't as shameful as my first visit

More than ten years ago I stumbled, purely by chance, upon the music of the Dixie Chicks...and it was fitting that their performance marks the end of my quest to see more live gigs. 

They were sensational. The back-story to them is that ten years or so ago they were the biggest thing in country-rock music. Think the Spice Girls - but with talent. That's how big and game-changing they were for that genre. Girl power...with a stetson hat. But at their peak, at a concert in London, lead singer Natalie Maines dared, during a rendition of their Vietnam War-inspired hit 'Travelling Soldier', to openly say that she was ashamed that former-US President George W Bush was a fellow Texan. Her highly politicised jibe came at a huge cost. Radio stations stop playing their music, their records were destroyed in the streets and their career was in tatters. So, more than eight years after that night, they were back in London for the very first time. And I was there.

Over the finish line in 1hr 51m. Get in.

Sore Nipples

Then came Sunday. My second attempt at overcoming the mammoth challenge I'd set myself; to complete two half marathons...one of which had to be sub-1 hour 55 minutes.
The setting was Stafford. I was joined by my old school friend Amy and old school pals Becky and Kate. Today's weather was uncharacteristically spring-like for this early in March. In fact, today's practically been a mini-heatwave. One assumes the Daily Express will run with some weather-based front page story tomorrow telling us that we're set to fry this summer - or it'll be a washout. Either way, the lefty climate-change propagandists will be to blame I'm sure.

My mate Amy and I post-race

The heat didn't help - but as we pounded the rural country lanes of Stafford, something felt different this time. This was my fourth half marathon...none of the previous three have necessarily been great experiences if I'm honest. But today felt different - it felt as if this was one psychological barrier I could finally overcome. After running the Oldham half marathon in 2 hours and 1 minute back in October, I knew I had a lot to do. But, having abandoned the others earlier in the race (my second apology of this piece), it came to the ten mile mark, a glance at my watch, and I had a feeling that I might just do this. The hours of trudging up and down hills in Sedgley and Gornal may just have been worth it. As I ran into Stafford town centre after a grueling final two miles and saw the finish line, I knew I'd achieved the toughest challenge yet. I came in at 1 hour 51 minutes. A whole ten minutes shaved-off my last run and six minutes quicker than my personal best. And aside from a blister or two and  two very sore nipples, I survived to tell the story.

My biggest achievement to-date...and certainly the one I'm most proud of.

Before the race, Kate had suggested we think about this song if we were struggling...turns out it worked.