Apart from global celebrity, there aren’t too many benefits that come with the maintenance of this website. The friendships I’ve made and the encouragement harvested from them stand out as the biggest plus points. However, the occasional freebie doesn’t go amiss. I’ve had a few offers and limp inducements over the years but the only two useful ones that come to mind are 1) a free subscription to the excellent WeightLossResources which has helped me shed some surplus lard, and 2) a wireless headset that recently came my way.
I wrote a while ago that I usually go through three distinct phases when I get a new gadget.
Phase 1: Damn, it doesn’t bloody work.
Phase 2: Oh hang on, hmm, yeah I can see what you do now. Tsk! It doesn’t work very well though, does it?
Phase 3: But wait, now that I’ve read the instructions, it seems to be working a whole lot better.
We’re all iPlodders now, it seems. I have mixed feelings about this. There’s been much feisty correspondence on the RW forums recently about the wisdom of using an MP3 player or other portable audio device (henceforth abbreviated to “iPod”) when running. My opinion is simple. I don’t care what people do in training. It’s up to them to gauge how safe it is, and act accordingly. But I’m not happy seeing them used in races. Runners who use them tend to veer. Once you’ve been attacked by a grinning iPod zombie in a race, you tend to feel grouchy about them. Trouble is, iPod racers are unaware of their tendency to meander, and tend to get exceedingly hot under the collar when challenged.
Have you ever driven on a motorway behind someone using a mobile phone? Noticed the way they drift across the road, then back again? That’s exactly what racing iPlodders do. Annoyingly, they tend to agree that some other iPod-wearers do veer in races, but vehemently deny that they do it themselves. Same with the deviating car drivers. They’ll accuse others of wandering across the carriageway, but refuse to accept that they do it.
Apart from this danger to fellow runners, my other objection is that it devalues a race. It’s a personal perspective but one that I know is shared by many — that a race is a community event. I rarely talk much in a race, but am acutely conscious of participating in something bigger than the individual. To cut myself off from the other runners, and in particular, from the spectators who are cheering and supporting us, seems disrespectful, selfish, and contradictory.
These are generalisations. I did once use my iPod in a race — the Bramley 20 miler. I knew that in the last half, I’d be on my own. Most people run the 10 mile version of the race, then stop. For long stretches of the second half of this rural race, I saw no one in front of me, and no one behind. And no spectators. It rained heavily, of course. On this stretch I used my iPod to keep me from going nuts, knowing that I could veer as much I had to, without being a hazard to others. I listened to a couple of Rickie Gervais podcasts, and remember my sides hurting when I laughed, the malady commonly claimed by critics on posters outside theatres. Though I have to tell you, when you’ve run 18 wet winter miles, your sides will ache — with or without a comedy soundtrack.
But it’s me who’s meandering now. Back to my free headset.
I usually use an iPod on solo training runs, but hate the dangling wires that threaten either to strangle me or, far worse, tickle me to death. Enter the Philips SHB6102/05 Bluetooth headset.
It was sent to me in the hope that I’d mention it here. I accepted it on the understanding that I may or may not mention it, and that I wouldn’t feel obliged to put any unwarranted gloss on the gadget if I did. As it happens I do like it, though like everything else in this world it’s not entirely perfect. Here’s a mini review.
I first tried it out in Sicily, with mixed results (as befits Phase 1, above). I’m not much of a hardware geek but the nice thing about this gadget is that your MP3 device doesn’t have to be Bluetooth-enabled. The headset comes with a small… thing that fits into your iPod and natters to the headset.
There were teething troubles. The connection kept dropping out. Then I worked out that this happens only when the dangly… thing was jiggling about against the iPod. Once it’s allowed to dangle free, or better, contained by the elasticated holder that comes with it, it holds the connection much better. In fact it works well.
Rechargeable gadgetry is good. Much lighter, and cheaper to maintain, than batteries. However, there is a downside. What you gain on the battery-free swings, you tend to lose on the yet-more-bloody-stuff-to-store-or-more-to-the-point-lose roundabout. There’s also the danger of setting off on a run moments before the power gives out, and the suicidal trauma that must surely follow.
Here are the good things about the headset:
– Wireless. Major benefit.
– Connection works well once you experiment a bit.
– Good audio quality.
– Comfy, cushioned earpieces.
– Adjustable for big’eads.
– Works with a Bluetooth-enabled phone, and automatically stop the music when a cal is received.
– Can adjust volume on the headset itself.
– Works within 10 metres of the MP3 player/phone.
– 10 hours battery time/260 hours standby (untested).
There aren’t any significant negatives. Yes, you have to remember to charge it. It’s light but not exactly minimalistic. I have some nice sporty Sennheiser headphones that are thin and look a bit more, er, wicked. That said, it would be hard to incorporate all the controls on a very small headset, but perhaps if Philips and others are serious about the gym/runner market (as they should be), they may move towards this ideal.
I can’t find a price, and it’s impossible recommend the headset without one. If £20, it’s fantastic value. If £200, it’s not. In the meantime, I’ll carry on using it. Thank you, Mister Philips.
Talking of electronic paraphernalia, I read something entertaining yesterday on the Dead Runners Society email discussion group. I joined the DRS list about 5 years ago, and I’ve been trying to get off it ever since. My ‘unsubscribe’ requests go unanswered however, so the mails just keep coming. Very occasionally i.e. about once a year, I’ll open one of the mail digests and see what’s going on in there, always slightly wary of what I may find.
However, last night I was pleasantly surprised to find a most excellent rant in response to this question:
Is there a better way for me to carry my Blackberry?
Paul from Potsdam (New York) memorably replied:
Yes, I believe there is. But first there may be a very small need to
question the need for carrying the little gadget around with us in
the first place – you know, a little “connectivity” machine, so to
speak – whether it’s in the bathroom, in the bedroom, in the kitchen,
in restaurants or the grocery store, in the cubicle or boardroom, in
our automobiles, at sporting events, at our workout facilities, even
on top of mountains. And as good consumers (or as investors in
consumer goods), we must always be in the loop.And just what IS this loop? We are now talking about our need, not so
much for someone else to be in touch with us, but for US to be in
touch with the REST OF THE WORLD.For the addictive personality, the blackberry is an umbilical cord; it is a wireless conduit linking our
lives to a troubled universe. It is the ultimate in staying self-absorbed, self-important, self-aggrandized, self-affirmed, self-aligned, self-appointed, self-approving, self-asserting, self-assured, self-aware, self-centered, self-confident, self-congratulatory, self-conscious, self-deceived, self-delusional, and in a constant, chronic state of self-denial.Blackberry carriers are definitely NOT self-contained, NOT self-controlled, NOT self-directed, NOT self-critical, NOT self-determined, NOT self-disciplined, NOT self-educated, NOT self-effacing, NOT self-governing, NOT self-guided, but mostly self-inflicted, definitely self-loving, obviously self-pitying, completely self-possessed, definitely NOT self-reliant, seldom if ever self-reproachful, never ever self-restrained, and nearly always self-righteous, self-satisfied, absent completely any
self-sufficiency, and utterly devoid of any self-actualization.It all started with “call-waiting,” that wonderful invention that allowed ME to put YOU on hold because I had another, more important
call coming in. Then, later on, I could put you into my “speed-dialing” chain as number #816, right after MY mother who was
#815 or my wife who was #137. Of course, with the advent of the cell phone, I could then call home from the grocery store to find out if little Susie needed Froot Loops or Count Chocula or Coco Pops. And now when I go to a restaurant or a movie theatre or a concert, I can always count on being introduced to my cell-neighbor’s most intimate and inane life dramas. Against the law to use a blackberry while driving? Technically yes, but even state troopers and astronauts text message their significant others at 85 mph (or much faster). Don’t worry about this, however, unless you find yourself with an uncontrollable urge to wear diapers while traveling. With a blackberry, the total “productivity” machine, I can now call home, email to my heart’s content, browse the Web, play games, or even take the little bugger out with me on my daily run. But mostly, though, I get to wait for that dreaded call that my kid is coming down with Ebola disease, that my wife needs me to pick up some Gas-X on the way home from work, or that some radical Jihadist has just been seen lurking in the park I’m currently running through with a suicide bomb strapped to her back. And yes, I know that cougars really do hide out in the woods, but how the heck would a blackberry save me from being eaten up? By the time I phoned in, I’d be dead meat, so to speak.
(Reproduced with Paul’s permission.)
Fantastic.
