The medal says I ran a long way.

The internet wasn’t going to help.

I was two-thirds of the way through my first marathon, and it was becoming difficult. Leg cramps were increasing in their severity and it was unlike anything I’d encountered at any stage during the previous 18 months of training (or during any physical activity I’d ever done, for that matter).

So the choice was pretty simple: keep running, or stop.

I couldn’t ask the Twitterverse; there was no app to download, no Googling to be done. In an age where everyone’s seemingly connected to everyone and everything else all the time, I was on my own.

No-one could run the remainder of the marathon for me; the cramps weren’t going to go away.

It was keep running, or stop.

So I kept running. Very slowly. And eventually I finished.

All of this is not meant to make me sound like some sort of hero, or legend, or anything like that. In terms of running, I was far from that.

But, pleasingly, at a very basic level, when my brain was faced with a fight or flight-type battle against my body, it chose to fight.

I kept running. I didn’t stop.

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The original concept here was to pay homage to Rage, the Australian national broadcaster’s late-night music video jukebox on weekends. Expound upon how awesome it would be to host Rage and dazzle everyone with my eclectic taste in music. Describe the  first five videos I’d pick, and then open it up to the (most likely zero) folk who’d share their music video favourites.

But such a concept is beside the point. The allure of Rage was the unknown; which video was going to be on next, or who was guest-hosting this week, was a total mystery upon arriving home at 2am on a Sunday morning.

Now, you can get this information ahead of time, and moreover, thanks to YouTube, you can watch any music video you like any time you want. Or, in other words, thanks to the internet, you can be your own Rage host pretty much whenever the mood strikes you.

I don’t think the question, for me, is whether this is necessarily better – it’s that I’ve recognised that the question exists. There was something magical about stumbling across a Rage video late at night that you knew was being seen by few others – but it’s also magical to be your own Rage host.

It’s just a different kind of magic.

On to 3 videos I’m partial towards!

Efterklang – ‘Modern Drift’

I heard about this Danish group in passing from the New York Times Music Popcast: a five-second burst of this song that gave me that ‘who is that?’ feeling you get when you hear something you like and you need to know more.

The video also contains a naked woman (approx 1:00 mark) for no real reason, other than because they can. Ah, Denmark!

Harry Connick Jr – ‘Whisper Your Name’ (live on Letterman, 1994)

A very white-looking (and young) Connick Jr with his very black-looking band tear strips off this piece. I always liked Harry for trying to get out of the Buble-esque crooner pigeonhole around this time; he’s an underrated piano player and his band is tight here.

Beastie Boys – ‘3 MCs and 1 DJ’

It’s the start that kills me: one minute plus of no music as the one joins the three. Hilarious.

Random food which you tell me is delicious

Random food you tell me is delicious.

This is not a personal attack.

Many people I know and count as friends like to take photos of the food they are about to eat, and either share it instantly or later. You are all still nice people and I don’t hold your predilections against you.

I just don’t understand the concept of photo-eating; it baffles me.

I look at the photo you have taken. I can’t taste the food; I can’t smell it. I can’t touch it; I can’t eat it.

But more than this is the unwritten message that you send whenever you photo-eat:

“I am about to do something fantastic,” you say. “And you are not.”

You celebrate your good fortune by reminding me of my poor fortune. Your stomach rejoices; mine merely wonders.  It seems to be the opposite of social inclusiveness that the Web 2.0 has fostered, whereby we get to share in what other people we know and like are doing.

This is not sharing; there is no equitable distribution happening.

You are doing something fantastic, and I am not.