May 22
Kate Hudson
Angela Simmons
The slide show of over 120 female celebrities on the beach promised great bodies, bikinis and ABS! But only two of the women had any definition at all. Maybe movie stars and singers just don’t work on their stomach muscles. Or it’s genetically too difficult to create any cuts. Someday I should look for professional female athletes to see what their abs look like as a group.
Mindless, but interesting. A nice change of pace from contracts and other responsibilities…
May 16
think you can stop one of these horses when it wants to run away? How about three of them without halters?
There are times in my life, when I feel no one else in the world—or very few people—are doing what I am doing at that exact moment. I once assured my lawyer that I was his only client that day—or ever—cleaning the inside of a horse’s sheath (the tubular skin that houses the penis). He agreed. I often told myself that no other CEO’s were mucking horse manure, when I had to do that chore.
I was reminded four days ago of those rare and special moments. Strange how many of them involve horses. We left the house just in time to head for my mother-in-law’s Mother’s Day lunch at her nursing home. Well into her 80′s, she is easily unsettled if we are late to the dining room. Just as we were about to drive off, I heard that a pair of sunglasses was missing. “Grandma is going to be upset,” I announced. And I waited for my passenger to make the trip back inside to search for the needed opticals. Thank goodness for this few seconds delay.
When we finally set off, I looked to the left and saw three Cleveland Bay horses staring at us from the driveway. It took me a few seconds to realize they had escaped from their fenced-in pasture. The last time this happened, two of them were in open fields and took almost an hour to round up. They looked great cantering through the tall summer grass. But it’s no joke if they make it to the road and are hit by a car.
this gives you an idea how big a Cleveland Bay horse is
Now we had three mares wondering how they got there and what they should do. I quickly made a sharp turn to block one stone-wall opening, hopped out of the car, and tried unsuccessfully to prevent the lead mare from going though the other opening of our circular driveway and head down toward the road. Did you ever try to stop a 16-hand-high frolicking horse with your bare hands? Helluva trick. Impossible. “Grandma is really going to be pissed,” I thought.
“How did they get out?” my daughter asked innocently. “Doesn’t matter now,” I blurted, “We have to get them back inside.” You can really see the pragmatist side of me in moments like this one.I raced the car to the barn, picked out some neck ropes and threw grain into a bucket.”This is going to be quite a trick,” I thought, running through the fields after “wild” horses in my loafers and dress-up clothes.
But miraculously, shaking the grain bucket worked like a snake charmer. Those horses heard that food 200 yards away and came right back toward the barn. My daughter blocked one other passageway by standing in it with both arms spread out asking, “What do I do if they charge me?” “Get out of the way,” I told her, as I put a neck rope around one horse chomping grain and led her into the stable. The other two followed automatically. All three horses were soon in their stalls, and we were driving towards Grandma’s luncheon.
The whole incident lasted less than 10 minutes. We couldn’t believe what had just happened, and it all seemed surreal. Now who do you know who started their Mother’s Day like that? A small adventure in a somewhat special day made even more special and unforgettable, because someone left open a gate and someone else wanted her sunglasses. The difference a few seconds can make. If we had left an instant earlier, no one would have been there to stop those horses from running free all over the farm and maybe into the road. Lucky break.
I was proud that I knew what to do, was unafraid to do it, and saw that it worked. A non-event if you are a rancher or handling horses every day. But I am not and don’t, and was pleased how far I’d come from a small house on Miami Beach, where I grew up with frogs and pollywogs.
What did you do on Mother’s Day? Chase any horses? Wrestle some alligators?
Sharon Simmons in pink (rt) trying out for the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad…at age 55
Saw this article about a 56-year-old woman, Sharon Simmons, who has worked out for over 35 years and started competing in fitness competitions just seven years ago, at 49. Of the 20 she entered, she came in first in nine and placed in two national competitions. She also wrote a couple of books about fitness, not letting age and others’ opinions hold you back, and at 55 tried out for a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader slot. You have to admire her spirit and fearlessness to take emotional risks.
No doubt she is exceptional with her physical abilities and looks at her age. Few grandmothers look like her. And even fewer women in their mid-fifties. But her attitude and life style are part of the reason. Check out her web site . And here are excerpts of the article, which includes eight of her lessons for aging and living well.
the Texas granny
1. “It’s really not all about winning.”
Though Simmons has a long list of fitness competition wins, having a place in the winners’ circle isn’t what motivates her.
“It’s about getting there,” she realized after her first fitness competition in Las Vegas in 2006.
3. “Never allow anyone else to set your limitations for you.”
Over the course of her fitness modeling career, Simmons has had her fair share of criticism from friends, family and strangers alike, she said.
“People think that people over 50 should be on a porch in a rocking chair… Where would I be if I listened to them?” she said with a laugh. “We are in control of what we do to a certain extent. There’s this stigma that ‘Oh, they’re grandparents, they should really start slowing down or retiring.’ Well, why? We’re only just beginning!”
7. “Don’t lose sight of your goals. If you get sidetracked, get back on.”
Don’t beat yourself up if you find yourself veering off course from your goals, Simmons advised. Failing to get back on course is worse than dusting yourself off and trying again. “[Figure out] how do I get there and then establish those steps,” she said, “because it will be small steps that get [you] to that goal.”
May 13
He gives great advice
A friend sent me this advice from a doctor he met. I love the insights and contrarian views.
Q: Doctor, I’ve heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Heart only good for so many beats, and that it… Don’t waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speeding up heart not make you live longer; it like saying you extend life of car by driving faster. Want to live longer? Take nap.
Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: Oh no. Wine made from fruit. Brandy distilled wine, that mean they take water out of fruity bit so you get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made of grain. Bottom up!
Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have body and you have fat, your ratio one to one. If you have two body, your ratio two to one.
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can’t think of single one, sorry. My philosophy: No pain…good!
Q: Aren’t fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTENING! Food fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetable be bad?
Q : Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Oh no! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only be doing sit-up if you want bigger stomach.
Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: You crazy?!? HEL-LO-O!! Cocoa bean! Another vegetable! It best feel-good food around!
Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for figure, explain whale to me.
Q: Is getting in shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! ‘Round’ is shape!
Well… I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
AND REMEMBER:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways – Chardonnay in one hand – chocolate in the other – body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO-HOO, what a ride!!”
AND…..
For those of you who watch what you eat, here’s the final word on nutrition and health. It’s a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.
1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.
2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.
3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.
4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans…
5. The Germans drink a lot of beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.
CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.
Felix Baumgartner in everyday clothes
While watching a tennis match on TV recently, the camera suddenly focused on a familiar face in the stands. “I recognize that person,” I thought to myself, but couldn’t place him. Then the announcer said that he was Felix Baumgartner, the man who jumped last October out of a helium-filled balloon capsule from 24 miles high. He set all kinds of records. Millions of us watched the balloon’s launch and his jump over a few hours. It was thrilling, chilling and joyous.
jumping from 24 miles up
We celebrated his courage, because he did something that none of us would do…nor even wanted to do. He risked his life and reputation…and now he is a guy watching a tennis match.
He was always just a guy with everyday life problems. He has to shower and dress himself. Earn money or manage what he has. Think up new challenges. Talk on the phone. Eat a meal.
Felix at work
But there was something quite disorienting for me to see this life-risking pioneer simply chatting away and watching live the same match I was watching on TV. If he was never my hero, I certainly applaud and admire his bravery and risk taking. I certainly admire his ability to organize the multi-million dollar program called Red Bull Stratos that built his equipment, his space suit, and launched him into space. And he was back being a mortal.
Maybe it was the life-risking part of the achievement that made his “ordinariness” so startling. When I see athletes who have aged since their glory days, so that they walk with a slower step or need assistance, I can accept readily their frailty and humanness. But something was different in viewing Felix being ordinary. Maybe you have a thought about what it was.
At the bottom of this page is a 90 second video of his momentous day last October. Enjoy it…
How do superb talents do it? You will be astounded at how accurately and fast he could aim and shoot with his shotgun… especially if you have ever shot one! Tom Knapp was among the celebrated in the tradition of shot shooters like Annie Oakley.
The guy died recently…only age 62. You can read the whole story of his life here, and a few excerpts are below:
Tom Knapp, an exhibition shotgun virtuoso who broke world records by picking off flocks of airborne clay targets with the flair of a western movie hero and dazzled crowds with his effortless precision shattering of golf balls, radishes, aspirin and other flying targets, died on April 26 in Rochester, Minn. He was 62.
Mr. Knapp, who was familiar to viewers of “Sharpshooters” on the History Channel and “Shooting Stars” on Discovery, mastered many kinds of long guns but was known mainly for his bravura with a pump-action 12-gauge shotgun.
A highlight videotape from 2007 (seen by more than three million viewers on YouTube) shows him firing his pump-action weapon from the hip, from behind his back and from over his head, each time hitting his airborne targets. In one scene, he hurls his shotgun into the air, flings a clay target skyward behind him, pivots, catches his gun and fires, leaving an orange puff of dust where the plummeting target had been.
From 1993 to 2004, Mr. Knapp made and broke his own records for the number of hand-thrown clay targets struck in a single round and for speed in doing so. His last record — 10 airborne targets hit (or “dusted,” in shooting-speak) in 2.2 seconds, each struck with a separate round — was set at an exhibition in Murfreesboro, Tenn., on Oct. 10, 2004.
Mr. Knapp, whose exhibitions were sponsored by firearms manufacturers, was widely considered one of the most accomplished heirs to an American tradition defined in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West shows by Annie Oakley and A. H. Bogardus. Mr. Knapp said he had been inspired by trick shooters of the next generation, most notably Herb Parsons, a showman who toured the country from the 1930s through the ’50s and often worked in Hollywood as a trick-shot stand-in for stars like Jimmy Stewart in “Winchester ’73” (1950), which involves a shooting contest.
May 4
This precision movement by a Japanese men’s group remeinds me of the trick drill team I was on in college. We twirled and threw our rifles in competitions during the Washington DC Cherry Blossom time and were totally awed by the other schools’ teams who bested us. It also reminds me of cheerleading team competitions.
Check out this discipline, beginning best at 1:36.
I saw the two-hour TV documentary Plastic Planet about how pervasive plastic is in our lives and how horrible it is for our health. Unbelievable. Unimaginable. It’s in our food, water and even our blood. We cannot escape it. It causes allergies, obesity, cancer, heart disease and even sterility. We are in big trouble here. Shrink wrap, food containers, baby bottles, pacifiers, ketchup bottles…plastic is everywhere.
You can see some of the story in the trailer above and the two video excerpts in English below. Not sure where you find the whole movie in English, but here is the link to it with German subtitles, but much of the language is English. The film was made by Werner Boote over 10 years and by visiting 14 countries. I am going to stop drinking out of plastic bottles, definitely not refilling them, and switching to glass storage containers. Lucky for me, I made it this far in my life without serious damage. But I remember my father could only wear white socks, because the dyes in colored socks gave him itching rashes. Who knows how much the plastic in your life is affecting your health. Check it out.
tough first lady
Here is an article by Erin Cunningham that startles me: more women want upper arm plastic surgery. (I didn’t even know there was such a procedure.) And Michelle Obama is the reason. Of course there are contrarians who say she is not the cause. You can decide after looking at some photos of our First Lady. I also included pictures of tennis star Samantha Stosur. How do you like her arms?
Michelle’s elegant arms
On Monday, the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS) reported a 4,473 percent increase in brachioplasties, or upper-arm lifts, since 2000. And as a result of its recent online poll, the ASPS also reported that the most desired upper arms by women belong to Michelle Obama.
biceps to rave about?
Sam Stosur really has arms
But while the ASPS reported that upper-arm lifts jumped more than 4,000 percent between 2000 and 2006 among women, Business Insider points out that, according to previous ASPS yearly reports, since 2007, “there have been only single-digit increases or decreases year-to-year for the cosmetic procedure.” Since the Obamas didn’t take Washington by storm until 2008, it’s unlikely that Michelle Obama can be thanked (or blamed) for the upper-arm sensation.
does she lift weights daily?
“The rise of brachioplasty has actually occurred over the past decade. It’s a procedure that has been fairly popular all along,” says Dr. Matthew Schulman, who practices plastic surgery in New York City. He adds that the procedure hasn’t just gotten more popular since the Obamas have been in the White House. Still, “she has a very visible role, she’s out there on more mainstream television, and constantly wears sleeveless dresses,” Schulman says.
Perhaps because of the rise social media, the immediate awareness of one’s body type has created a more self-conscious audience, says Dr. Darrick E. Antell, assistant clinical professor of surgery at Columbia University. “People take pictures, view them right away, and see those arms they want to hide,” he says. “Michelle is sort of an icon, she’s stylish, and she’s typically photographed from the waist up.” Since mobile devices now have video and camera capabilities, the readiness with which images can be uploaded and viewed leaves one little time to prepare to confront one’s flaws.
Doctors point to widespread weight loss across the nation and advanced surgical technologies as the dominant factors that have contributed to the rise of brachioplasties—not Michelle Obama. As Antell explains, “People today are losing much more weight than in the past, which leads to an excess of loose skin.” The development of microliposuction, too, has made the upper-arm procedure less severe, the scar management less difficult, and the recovery time much faster. (Patients can be back to work as quickly as the span of a long weekend.)
“Combat or gladiator is a game played by jugglers. In its most typical form, a number of players juggle three clubs each, attempting to interfere with other players’ juggling, with the winner being the last to remain juggling three clubs–not necessarily those they started with.”
Tactics include:
Moving face-to-face with an opponent so the opponent gets confused about which clubs to catch. (Only works on novice players.)
Throwing one club high, and using the time to wave a hand or club in front of an opponent.
Turning around and backing into the opponent’s clubs.
Grabbing an opponent’s club out of the air, and either dropping one of your own clubs, or continuing with four clubs.
My problem in tennis has been that I am not a killer. Too nice a guy, my friends say. Not aggressive enough. I do try to be tough, but it’s artificial, not my basic personality.
Two days ago I was playing poorly and became pissed. After losing two sets by huge margins—2-6 and 0-6—with two different partners, I was furious in the next set with my third partner. I played angrily. We were ahead 5-3. Unfortunately we lost 5-7. It was a tough match to lose. I was really frustrated…near to smashing my racket. Rage. I never have those emotions.
Today I was very insecure about my game before we started. Had minimal confidence. My team lost 4-6, after a very long set. But I was playing hard and pretty well. With the same partner (for all three sets), we crushed the other guys in the next set 6-0. I really wanted that bagel. It felt good. Now the other team was ticked and stayed on serve, so it was 2-1 in their favor, and it was my turn to serve. At this point one of the opponents used a mental trick on me—he admitted later that he had used it in high school. He pointed out before I started that I had not been broken once in two sets. The only player who could claim that distinction. Then joked that he “didn’t want to put any pressure on me by pointing out this fact. Heh heh heh.”
Of course it certainly DID increase the pressure, and I lost the game. I was so annoyed/angry/upset that there was no Mr. Nice Guy left in me. I told him loudly enough for everyone to hear that what he did “was fucking shitty.” And when he smiled, I repeated it. I was ready to explode.
In retrospect, this was a welcome and unfamiliar feeling. I wanted to take him apart. Now my team was behind 1-3, and I had no intention of putting up with this stunt. We won the next five games, and my aggression, serving and net play helped make it happen. I had zero sympathy for the other team. I wanted to defeat them. It wasn’t just a game. It had become a blood sport. No feeling sorry for their frustration. No worrying if my speaking up would alienate them. And none of that turning the other cheek crap.
Still feels pretty good six hours later. Have to save some of that juice for next time.
I write this after a week of sadness from the Boston bombings. Right now the manhunt is on for the second suspect.
I have been playing a lot of tennis: tomorrow will be 12 out of 18 days. When I missed shots yesterday, I couldn’t get upset—I was alive and safe. I was healthy enough to be active, while others my age are dead, too sick to run around, or not fit enough to play. Yesterday I hit the best lobs of my life. My ground strokes are improving after I learned a new technique. My serve is a bit harder.
I also had a physical and received the blood work: my cholesterol is still below 200 (197) and my PSA is healthy. Avoiding all those delicious cream sauces and desserts and buttery breads has some benefit. I do miss them though.
I am certainly proud that all the hard work and discipline is paying off. Some boys in their 20′s tell me that I still inspire them with my healthy living. Unfortunately, there are people who are older who find my good health and physical activity “irritating.” They seem to be envious and don’t want to hear about it. They resent my good genetic inheritance. They are jealous that I am able to make myself avoid certain foods, minimize alcohol and fat intake. It is frustrating for me that I have to hide this physical success. Yet here I am the second time in 10 days dealing with other people’s annoyance at my achievements. But it is how humans are. Some things don’t change…you can see infants fighting over who is better and who should keep the toys. Adults are often just infants in grown up bodies…
April 5th was my 72nd birthday, and it sounds old old old. I feel like I am in my 50′s, and people tell me to act as young as I feel. So I do. I played two hours of tennis each of five of the last six days. I did my daily exercises, and have done that now for 514 consecutive days. I still watch my diet and avoid excessive food portions and alcohol. And it has been paying off: the deprivation and discipline are keeping me fit.
Though I haven’t had the serious illnesses that many of my contemporaries faced, I am concluding that a lot of my good health is pure luck. I just happened to be born with “good” genes. And I dodged some accidents that others might not have been lucky enough to avoid. (However I did return from an army tour in Korea on a stretcher with hepatitis.) I don’t quite feel guilty, but the more people of all ages I meet who are sick or injured, the more I feel a bit apologetic. I am even hesitating to write these public words, because I don’t want to upset others who read them. Or create jealousy.
In a doubles tennis match this week, I kept returning balls at the net that one opponent was hammering at me. He became so frustrated that I almost felt sorry for him. He kept his cool and often hit away from me, but he seemed to grimace a lot each time I volleyed his ball back for a point. Why in the world do I feel the least bit of empathy for his frustration? I wish I had the killer instinct on the court or was at least indifferent to his annoyance. Yet that is not who I am…I feel badly.
Similarly when I can move and play sports ably, while others are handicapped by age, injury and infirmity, I feel defensive. Yet so much of it is just luck. I just happen to be controlled enough to exercise, to stop eating when I am full, and to eat more healthfully by avoiding fat and salt. It’s who I am and how I turned out.
Sometimes it’s hard to accept who we are, whether bad and failing or good and succeeding. I know, I know…it’s a high-class problem…and after writing these words earlier, I read the paper and saw that an acquaintance I liked died a couple of weeks ago after a long battle with cancer. She was 71.
gym inspiration
Saw this and am lifting weights right now…with breaks to post this picture…
Here is how the banderillas are placed in the bull. I know it may be thought cruel to the bull. But also focus on the elegance and grace of the movement by the man who risks goring to place these barbed sticks. It’s all part of an historic tradition in Spain and other Latin countries…
Here is a great and sad story. Patricia McCormick sees a bullfight when she is seven, and 15 years later is a professional who faces hundreds of bulls over 11 years, becomes an international celebrity, then disappears for 40 years and almost becomes homeless. In the video, she says, “It has to be a passion, and you have to do what you love to do.” Below is the entire NY Times article by Bryan Mealer. My infatuation with bullfighting may have started with a Hemingway novel, but I did read other books, see fights in Spain and faced a calf in a bull ring for tourists. I was most taken with the movements of the banderilleros, who placed the barbed sticks in the bulls.
Patricia McCormickPatricia McCormick died recently at 83
During the 1950s, when young women from West Texas were typically expected to take care of the home, Patricia McCormick bucked social convention and became the first female professional bullfighter in North America. Ms. McCormick, who died in Del Rio on March 26, performed in hundreds of bullfights during her career as a torera, receiving top billing in stadiums from Mexico to South America. Rafael Solana, the bullfighting critic, once called her “the most courageous woman I have ever seen.”
Born in St. Louis in 1929, she was introduced to the sport during a vacation to Mexico City when she was 7 years old. For months afterward, she staged mock bullfights in her yard using neighborhood children as her bull substitutes.
When she was 13, her family relocated to West Texas, where her father was chief engineer at Cosden Petroleum in Big Spring. After graduation, Ms. McCormick attended what was then Texas Western College in El Paso, where she studied art and music. Once there, she began crossing the border into Juárez, where she rediscovered the bulls. She watched fights at the Plaza de Toros and became a student of the form, practicing technique in her dorm room.
“I had a World War I blanket my dad had given to me to keep warm, and I used that as my cape,” Ms. McCormick said in a 2007 documentary “The Texas Torera.” She left college and persuaded Alejandro del Hierro, a retired matador, to be her mentor. Ms. McCormick made her bullfighting debut on Sept. 9, 1951, in Juárez. The Big Spring Daily Herald reported that a bull trampled her twice and tossed her with its horns before she plunged the estoque between its shoulders. The crowd showered her with roses, and the judges awarded her the bull’s ear, signifying a superior performance. Over the next year, she honed her skills in the Mexican minor leagues, and in 1952 she was the first American woman to be invited to join Mexico’s matador union.
For the next 10 years she fought in stadiums, drawing thousands of fans. An international celebrity, she was the subject of profiles in Time magazine, Sports Illustrated and Look. Although her fights received top billing, Ms. McCormick could never shake the title of novillera, or apprentice fighter. Elevation to the highest rank required an alternativa ceremony and sponsorship by a male matador, and no one would do such a thing for a woman.
Though she faced the same dangers as her male counterparts, who marveled at the artistry of her cape work, the fact that she was a woman prevented her from achieving greater stardom in a sport dominated by men.
“Had she not been born a woman,” one of Mexico’s elite matadors told Sports Illustrated in 1963, “she might have been better than any of us.”
Ms. McCormick demanded to fight on equal terms with men. Over the years, she was gored six times. Read the rest of this entry »
British squash player James Willstrop (world rank #4) pulls off a trick shot that leaves the commentator in ecstasy at the North American Open in Virginia. Willstrop spins his racket round the ball twice before wrongfooting opponent Ramy Ashour (rank #1) to win the point. It’s amazing that humans can become this proficient.
This video also gives you a bit of an idea of how the game is played.
Mar 15
Johan (left) and Tommy
On February 12th, I watched the Trinity College men’s squash team beat Harvard 5-4. It was the third time Harvard has lost to Trinity by that close score in just the seven years I have been following Trinity and traveling to Boston to be in the lion’s den there. One of the most critical contests was when Trinity’s Johan Detter was playing in the number six position against Tommy Mullaney and was behind in the fifth game, 8-10. Harvard needed just one point to win that early game. But Johan fought tirelessly and won the game 12-10. What a victory. Number six is just the first wave (3-6-9), and Trinity won all three matches.
The next rotation was stronger for Harvard, winning two out of three. The last wave would be the decider, and Harvard won two more right away, so the teams were tied 4-4. But Trinity closed it with a decisive win, squeaking through yet once again. I was proud to cheer along with the enthusiastic Trinity fans who had made the trek to Beantown.
Johan and Bill Belichick, head coach of New England Patriots
One of the parents in the stands near me earlier was Tommy Mullaney’s father. I expressed my sympathies. After the match was over, I saw him again and talked to his son. Though I was glad he had lost, I also felt sad about how he might take his defeat. Harvard hasn’t beaten Trinity in the last 24 years. And he was so close. You often see movies in which the mature man in his 40s or 50s has lived a depressed or dismal life after dropping the catch that would have been the winning touchdown or the last out. So I wondered how this will affect Tommy’s life. In the movie Parenthood, Steve Martin complains that his complete happiness is dependent on whether or not his son catches a baseball pop up hit to the kid in the outfield.
But I sensed how important that early, close win was to the team match, and was relieved when Tommy was unable to close the deal. I was awed that Johan came back under so much pressure. I was ecstatic that Trinity won again.
Mountain climbers brave serious risks for fun. Here is one challenge a climber hadn’t anticipated that his helmet-cam recorded. Pretty scary.
A British mountain climber with a helmet-mounted camera took a terrifying fall after being hit by a hurtling chunk of ice. He was attempting to scale Snowdon in north Wales, one of the U.K.’s highest peaks.
Mark Roberts, 47, a lifelong mountain climber, was climbing Snowdon last month when the falling ice caused him to tumble more than 100 feet down a gully. He came to a stop on a ledge. Roberts, who suffered a broken ankle and bruises, somehow escaped without serious injury—and without screaming.
“There was no feeling of panic, more a concerted effort to protect my head and neck, and be aware of what was below me, where I was heading and what I could do to slow and stop myself before I got to the more serious rocky outcrops,” he said, according to the British Mountaineering Council’s website.
A mountain rescue team airlifted Roberts to a local hospital, where he was treated.
“I was a little dazed but, critically, not unconscious,” he continued. “I had the foresight to check the cam was still attached and just hoped the vid had recorded.
“You have to laugh sometimes,” Roberts added. “Even with experience of risk assessment and making decisions, sometimes things just happen. When it all happens so quickly, you just try not to panic and hope there’s some luck with you.”