Stuff Lust

Asceticism ain’t my cup of tea. I admire true ascetics, but I like stuff. I like doing stuff that requires using stuff, which usually means getting new stuff if it’s a first time. Everything requires something. Even running, one of the simplest pleasures in life, requires a natty pair of shoes with gel insoles or the like, perhaps torsion control soles or a fancy-pantsy lacing system. A nice dryflo top is also good, and if you’re going long-distance, you’ll possibly be wanting a Camelbak, which opens up a new world of possibilities for stuff, because you have a way of carting around more stuff. For a brief while, while living in Sydney, I embraced the minimal running attitude, walking barefoot to the beach in the morning wearing nothing but a pair of lightweight running shorts before putting in a few sandy miles of athletic asceticism. It didn’t last long, and even then, the shorts were nice Nikes (i.e. ‘stuff’) so it was a pointless act. Pretty soon I put my runners back on, clipped a new iPod shuffle to my Asics vest, adjusted my sunglasses and hit the road, all stuffed up.

Why am I shitting on about stuff? Well, it’s the Christmas, isn’t it? This is stuff season. People are going batshit crazy for stuff and the acquisition of stuff right about now. It’s the time of year when wankers who say: ‘Oh, I really don’t have much stuff – I don’t need it’, have to pinch themselves in their trouser pockets to avoid letting utter hypocrisy spill out their big, materialistic gobs. The less stuff you claim to need, the more expensive your stuff tends to be. Faux-asceticism, that vomit-inducing ‘I don’t need stuff’ moral-high-ground ‘ism’, is worse than greed.

Back to the running. I’ve registered for a 55km adventure race on January 9. Olympic rower Gearoid Towey is the man behind the Art O’Neill Challenge, and he’s roped me in too.  The whole shebang starts at midnight for the walkers, 2am for the runners, and sends its participants on a route from Dublin Castle to Glenmalure, to arrive in time for a breakfast roll. Glenmalure is one of my favourite spots in Wicklow. I usually like to drive there, but hey, running there from the city centre at night in deepest winter sounds like a shitload of fun too.

Apart from the physical challenge element, this is a major stuff acquisition opportunity. In fact, they helpfully post a list of stuff you HAVE to get before you’re allowed race – mandatory kit, they call it. I am excited by this. I will have to buy maps, and I LOVE maps. Maps and charts are among my top items of stuff, and the compass to go with them is a nice little retro stuff item, as is the space blanket.

Stuff that has ‘space’ in the name is also extra exciting.

I’ll need new shoes, a headlamp (good, good), tights (good), and carbohydrate gel packs to stuff in my new Camelbak (very good indeed).

And, when I hobble into Glenmalure at the far end, I’ll need plenty of First Aid Stuff.

More on the physical side of the race later this week, once I get over the stuff excitement.