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FullCodePress 2010: Go Aussies!
Well my Webstock Mini talk is out the way, and now I’m spending my time as a volunteer/reporter/fly-on-the-wall for the third ever FullCodePress event here in Wellington, New Zealand.
At a few minutes after midnight (local time), we’re past the half-way point and I can confirm that Team Australia (aka the Codaroos) are looking very together and have a great vibe going on. There was big drama a couple of hours ago when the team hit server issues, resulting in all teams getting an extension of one hour to the original deadline — a first ever!
There is a huge amount of support for the team, with photos popping up all over the internet of supporters who are wishing them well in their quest to wrestle Olympic gold from the CodeBlacks and Team USA.
You can follow the progress of Team Australia and all of the FullCodePress teams online via Twitter, YouTube, Flickr and on the official FullCodePress website.
You can find some great interviews with the team (James, James & Bjarni, Robyn) and you can also watch and compare screenshots of each team’s sites as they evolve (The Aussies have chosen to use github to publish their site, so you can even watch their codebase evolve as well, which is just plain awesome).
On behalf of the rest of Australia, let me say, Codaroos, that the hopes of a nation are riding on your shoulders. We wish you all the very best, and here’s to hoping you kick some Kiwi and Yankee butt!
Aussie Aussie Aussie!!!
Tags: codaroos, fullcodepressMacGyver, Masking Tape, and My Knee
Today I went to see a new podiatrist about my knee.
My knee has been a bit of an ongoing saga. Cut to the chase if you already know the history, or you aren’t that interested in hearing it. It’s alright, I won’t be offended.
The Knee Saga
About 18 months ago I started experiencing pain in my left knee — it would ache after running for 20 minutes or so.
Now, some might say that running for 20 minutes in one session is more than enough for the body to endure. But given that I harbor aspirations to one day run a full-length marathon, it is enormously frustrating to feel quite aerobically fit, but be let down by one solitary link in the chain (my knee).
The Local Doctor …
My GP examined my knee, and diagnosed my patella as not tracking straight. He referred me to a physiotherapist, then promptly retired.
No really — I don’t mean that I was the last patient of the day, and that he went home to bed. He actually retired from service. The doctor who replaced him has a used-car-salesman smile, so now I need to find a new family doctor. But back to my knee.
… The Physiotherapist …
My physio’s solution was to strengthen the muscles surrounding my knee by running short distances regularly. However, this was only effective if I did it every day. Now, while I enjoy the occasional jog around the park, I’m not fanatical enough about it to commit to a daily routine. I stopped, and my knee problem returned.
… The Podiatrist …
After talking to a friend who ran with custom orthotic insoles, I made an appointment to see a podiatrist. I had been given a referral for a different podiatrist, but stupidly I instead opted for the health professional who was more conveniently located (i.e. I passed his office on the way to work). This fellow appeared nervous, and felt to me like he was bluffing his way through the examination. He made me walk barefoot on a cold marble floor in the middle of winter. And he referred me to an osteopath after only one session.
… The Osteopath …
The osteopath seemed to know what he was doing and was a nice enough guy. He assigned me a series of stretches and exercises that I performed every night, and I started to get my hopes up. However his lack of professionalism and the poor feng shui of his consulting room (the furniture looked tacky and entirely temporary) harmed my opinion of him (Hint: get a secretary mate — I don’t appreciate my knee massage being continually interrupted so that you can answer calls. Oh, and fix that damn light globe!). After three or four appointments I was seeing little progress, grew tired of his juggling patient bookings while massaging my knee, and lost faith. I contemplated telling him what it was that turned me off, on the chance that he might take steps to improve matters, but instead I just never made a return appointment.
Of course, the next time I went for a run, I was in agony again. By this stage I was particularly pissed off as I had to forgo my entry in the Melbourne Marathon (just the 10km run, not the full thing. Not yet, anyway).
… and Everything Else
I’ve since tried taking glucosamine supplements, wearing a $70 knee brace, and buying $260 running shoes from a special runner’s shoe shop (staffed by podiatrists). Each of these have helped a little bit, but none of them have made enough of a difference to actually solve my problem. I’m 31, not 51. And I’m fit. Surely wanting to be able to run for a moderate distance without being in excruciating pain is not too much to expect?
Where To Next?
This morning my new podiatrist taped my foot. The entire sole is covered in medical tape, and feels kind of weird (apparently it’s supposed to). The tape simulates the correction that a custom orthotic sole would perform. I was a bit skeptical at first (it felt like she was applying some form of makeshift MacGyver solution to my medical woes).
However, I’m happy to report that tonight I did the first 10km run that I’ve done in 12 months that hasn’t ended in me having to hobble home and then limp around for two days afterwards. My knee feels great — I didn’t even wear the knee brace, and it felt terrific to turn the MP3 player up loud and really get the lungs pumping.
In fact, I was on target for a Personal Best for my 10km circuit, only to be foiled by an old lady on the home stretch …
Foiled!
Just as I was turning into my street for the final sprint home, an elderly lady stopped me mid-stride to ask if I wouldn’t mind helping her take out her bins. She looked about 90; she lived by herself and had had a stroke recently affecting her left arm, so lifting the bins was very difficult for her. Of course, I was happy to oblige — I might be a determined, incredibly focussed, sprinting machine when I get into that zone, but I’m not that determined that I can’t stop and do my good deed for the day.
Now if she had interrupted me in the middle of a game of fußball at the office, I might not have been quite so obliging …
Summary
If you have a sore knee, try taping your foot.*
*I am not a doctor. You should probably get them to do it. Or MacGyver — that guy could always work wonders with a piece of masking tape.
Tags: knee, macgyver, podiatry, runningBasketball... And the Luck of the Irish
I was eight years old when I first picked up a basketball.
I remember vividly — it was on the bitumen outdoor court at Woodville Primary School. I’d heard that practice was happening and I knew I wanted to be part of it. I’d recently discovered the NBL on television, and was giddy at the prospect of being able to play the same fast and furious sport that my heroes from the Adelaide 36ers, Al Green, Mark Davis and Darryl Pearce, played.
By the time I reached high school I was playing three times a week — for a local church, my school as well as the local district league, the Forrestville Eagles — as well as training twice a week. I was never good enough to make the Division 1 team at Forrestville, but was happy enough throughout my teens to play in Divisions 2 and 3 and get more court time. By this stage I had convinced my father to erect a hoop, with backboard, on the side of our house, and spent more time shooting baskets in the driveway than studying.
At high school I was introduced to NBA basketball, and began following the rise and rise of such superstar legends of the game as Larry Bird, Earvin ‘Magic’ Johnson, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Julius ‘Dr J’ Irving. Here was a league that took both talent and entertainment to a new level.
When Michael Jordan soared onto the screen, my love for the game bordered on obsessive, and I decided there and then that I absolutely had to make it to an NBA game, one day.
Last night, 18 years later, I got that chance. Brendon and I drove in to San Antonio to watch the Spurs host the Boston Celtics, the team with which I’d always had a soft spot for since following Larry Bird and living in Massachusetts in my early twenties. Prior to these two teams meeting, the Spurs had beaten the Celtics 18 times in a row. The Spurs had won their past 13 games, and were sitting in third position on the ladder.
My beloved Celtics were not having quite as successful a season, flailing at the very bottom of the Eastern Conference. And they were playing the Spurs at home. It was not looking promising, but at least I was going to be there in the flesh when my team got its butt kicked.
However, defying all odds and everyone’s expectations (and much to the disappointment of the sell-out crowd of Spurs fans), the Celtics managed to pull off a massive upset and win by six points in an exciting nailbiter that had Brendon and I cheering in a sea of silence. The game had its scrappy moments, but it also had the occasional flash of NBA showtime (usually from the Spurs’ Tim Duncan) and was thoroughly entertaining.
Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to take my video camera in to the game, so had to settle for taking a few snaps with a disposable camera. When I get round to getting the film developed, I’ll scan them in and post them. Photographic mementos aside, I was delighted with the result.
Of course, with their dismal record this year, the Celtics are still at the bottom of the ladder. But on this one game they came through for me, and I went home a happy man. I’d like to think that my presence contributed a small part to the Celtics pulling out their best, but chances are that it had more to do with their Irish heritage and the game coinciding with St. Patrick’s day. But you never know.
Scout will definitely grow up to be a Celtics fan.
Tags: celtics, dream, nba, sanantonio, spurs, texas
Matthew Magain works as the manager for online media at 
