Gelombang miniaturisasi melanda produk IT seiring perkembangan teknologi miniaturisas komponen transistor sejak ditemukan tahun 1947. Cerita transistor radio saku Sony di posting “Teknologi Saku (1)” kemarin, tampak seperti “raksasa” dibandingkan transistor sepuluh tahun kemudian, dan transistor ini berganti jadi raksasa dibandingkan ukuran transistor teknologi terkini.

Hebat sekali prestasi teknologi pengecilan dimensi komponen transistor yang telah dicapai dalam waktu relatif singkat (50-60 tahun).

Sebagai perbandingan betapa kecil dimensi transistor sekarang, ke dalam kepala sebuah jarum pentul bisa dimuat 200 juta transistor, sedangkan harganya, tolong bantu hitungkan, satu transistor sama dengan harga tinta satu huruf di posting blog ini kalau dicetak. Wow… lalu apa yang bisa diperbuat dengan transistor sebanyak itu?

Banyak! Semakin banyak transistor, produk berarti semakin canggih. Teorinya semua fungsi produk IT yang kita kenal selama ini seperti komputer, kamera, telepon seluler, radio, tivi, musik, video, bisa masuk dan diintegrasikan jadi satu. Iya, jadi sebuah produk saja! Istilah kerennya, konvergen. Kita sudah menyaksikannya sejumlah fungsi kini menjadi kelengkapan standar atau pun tambahan komputer dan telepon seluler: kamera, perekam audio, perekam video, penutar musik, radio, video, …ada lagi?

Tidak berhenti di situ, komputer juga diinginkan bisa masuk saku, kalau perlu dengan perangkat kelengkapannya keyboard dan layar monitornya sekali! Wah, wah. Meski produk belum dipasarkan, namun sejumlah prototipe sudah mulai mejeng di ajang pameran produk elektronika internasional. Lihatlah gambar di bawah ini.

Tarik kaki satu ke sana, yang satu lagi ke sini, tekan tombol, gambar keyboard disorot, gambar layar monitor diproyeksikan, voila… jadilah komputer. Demikian juga gambar utama di atas. Wow, komputer benar-benar bisa masuk saku!

Inovasi dan kreativitas dalam desain sangat menonjol di sini. Entah berapa harganya, jangan-jangan yang bikin mahal justru desainnya itulah. Sangat boleh jadi, berapa ‘sih harga sebanyak-banyaknya tinta untuk komponen elektronika? Bukan main, ya.

Kita tidak bisa membayangkan ke depan, produk apa saja yang bisa dibuat dengan ratusan jutaan transistor yang nyaris mendekati 1 milyar itu!  Sepertinya semua bisa dibuat, … sejauh-jauh imajinasi kita. Nothing is impossible, impossible is nothing!

Untuk pengetahuan kita saja, Intel Core 2 Duo 291 juta transistor (2006), AMD K10 463 juta (2007), Power6 IBM 789 juta (2007), GT200 NVIDIA 1,4 milyar (2008), Intel Atom 47 juta (2008), dan Pentium4 42 juta (2000).

Di posting mendatang akan coba kita lihat pengaruh desain pada produk IT ini terhadap harga…

update:
Mungkin bukan hal baru, saya baru saja melihat jam di pergelangan tangan kita itu kini bukan sekedar penunjuk waktu lagi. Ada catatan kesehatan kita (yang terhubung ke rumah sakit/dokter), ada catatan posisi di mana kita berada. Menarik, sayang tidak keburu dipotret…

Piramide umana della campagna Adidas ‘Impossible is nothing’.

Un hombre que desde que tuvo uso de razón supo que su único objetivo era la victoria. Y a día de hoy sigue ganando batalla tras batalla los duros combates que le ofrece el Alzheimer. Leer su historia no puede si no despertar la admiración de todo aquel que quiera conocerle, alguien que no pecaba de soberbia, la soberbia quedaba por debajo de él. Sabía que era el mejor, y eso le convertía en el único y verdadero campeón. Nunca pecó de pretensión, pues sabía cuales eran sus límites, y sabía que sus límites eran inalcanzables para el resto de los mortales. No se equivocaba, así lo demuestran todos los datos que acompañan su historia; En el ring, imparable, en el atril, incontestable. Y ahora sigue mostrandose invencible, siendo un ejemplo para todos aquellos que sufren enfermedades degenerativas.

Yo le admiro profundamente, no por la fuerza con la que golpeaban sus puños, si no por la convicción con la que golpeaba su conciencia.

Wow, it’s bad that I look down and my previous post was also a Motivational Friday! I will do better next week.

This weeks Motivational Friday comes from one of my Co-Workers who serves as our Strength and Conditioning Coach at Georgia State. I’m putting this quote/saying into the Winter Workout Manual I’m helping him to create for the Football Team (a pretty neat thing!)

Impossible is Nothing (Sorry, I don’t know the source)

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given rather than explore the power they have to change it

Impossible is not a fact.

It’s an opinion.

Impossible is not a declaration.

It’s a dare.

Impossible is potential.

Impossible is temporary.

IMPOSSIBLE IS NOTHING!

–Update–
It has been noted this is a John Maxwell Quote based off of a Muhammad Ali Quote.

Sis Slaine sent me this little gem and I thought I’d share it with you guys.

Never be caught in the “Girls” category – make sure your place as a “Grown Woman” is known at all times.

1. Girls leave their schedule wide-open and wait for a guy to call and make plans. Grown women make their own plans and nicely tell the guy to get in where he fits in.
2. Girls want to control the man in their life. Grown women know that if he’s truly hers, he doesn’t need controlling.
3. Girls check the man for not calling them. Grown women are too busy to realize he didn’t.
4. Girls try to put a man ‘on lock’ by using sex. Grown women know that it’s the sex of the mental kind that makes a man want to ‘lock’ you down.
5. Girls fake-moan, lay there and take the stabbing. Grown women say, “Just stop”, get up, get dressed and walk out.
6. Girls are afraid to be alone. Grown women revel in it, using it as a time for personal growth.
7. Girls ignore the good guys. Grown women ignore the bad guys.
8. Girls make him cum. Grown women make him come home
9. Girls worry about not being pretty or good enough for their man. Grown women know that they are pretty and good enough for any man.
10. Girls try to monopolize all their man’s time (i.e don’t want him hanging with his friends). Grown women realize that a lil’ bit of space makes the ‘together time’ even more special and goes to kick it with her own friends!
11. Girls think a guy crying is weak. Grown women offer their shoulder and a tissue.
12. Girls get hurt by one man and make all men pay for it. Grown women knows that he was just one man.
13. Girls fall in love, chase aimlessly after the object of their affection, ignoring all the ’signs’. Grown women know that sometimes the one you love doesn’t always love you back and move on, without bitterness.
14. Most Importantly: Girls will read this and get an attitude. Grown women will read this and pass it on to other Grown Women!

Day 6: Exercise: Walking 40 mins. Food: 2118 kcal, 273g of carbs, 90g protein and 80g fat. 4 cups of water, 2 cups of tea and 1 cup of coffee. Supplements: 1 multi vitamin. No alcohol – 2 B&H. Had strange headache that calmed down of its own. Still a little smelly but not sweating as much – just feeling slightly ‘clammy’.

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I can’t believe when I go to bed tonight I have completed a full week of healthier living! I have already made a number of choices this week that I’m proud of.

• I have had no processed food at all.
• I’ve had at least 10 portions of fruit and veg every day.
• I’ve at least doubled my water intake.
• I have had two opportunities to drink alcohol and several opportunities to drink coffee but I’ve chosen healthier options instead.
• I have had a few fags, but the ones I’ve had I’ve really sat down and enjoyed and there hasn’t been any quick ones to handle stress/boredom/anger/etc/etc.
• I haven’t had any nictotine gums or any regular ones either, for that matter.
• I sqeezed an extra biking session in where I would normally just have sat on a chair.

I guess you could argue that this is far from a perfect diet, and you would be right. But I’m not claiming to be on a perfect diet or following a diet that would work for someone else. The main purpose of Operation Detox is to look after my body with the same love and pride I look after my brain. To make better choices and to think twice before adding chemicals and rubbish to my system. And to figure out how my stimulus – response system works. It has been on auto-pilot for so many years that most of the time I’m not even aware of what I’m doing.

Today is Friday and I’m off to Ealing to work. Teaching Organisational Behaviour this morning and seeing my teacher training candidates in the afternoon. It’s not even 7am yet and I’ve been awake for more than an hour. I’ve written this blog post, I’ve checked my mail and done some paperwork. Now I’m gonna have a maoment on my bike before hitting the shower and heading off to work. I think the energy boost I was hoping for is beginning to build inside me! =)

Day 5: Exercise: 1hr on the exercise bike. Food: 1724 kcal, 308g of carbs, 40g protein and 48g fat. 3 cups of water and 2 cups of tea. Supplements: 1 multi vitamin. No alcohol or tobacco. Not quite as tired and weepy, but still sweating out some smelly stuff. Had a strange taste in mouth all day as well.

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Yesterday I didn’t exactly get off to a good start. John managed to drive off to work without me!!! Having first dropped Mum off to church and then found himself engaged in conversation with some people, his brain was now set on getting to work and the fact that I was not in the van – or that I should have been in the van – didn’t quite register on his radar. Until he was half way there. Sheepishly, and ever so apologetically, he phoned me and asked could I possibly get on the train and he’d come get me from the station?

It didn’t turn out that bad. There’s this new little coffee shop on the platform where you can borrow books for free in exchange for one of your old books, so I got myself a cuppa and two new books. The journey takes just over an hour, so I made it through the first chapters of Chesnutt’s The house behind the cedar tree. It’s a story about a mixed race brother and sister who after the US civil war moves cities pretending to be white folk. Upon arrival in Ealing, John was parked up outside the station as promised and we arrived at work together as planned – just a little behind schedule. I guess I could have been angry, but to be honest I have been known to drive off somewhere without one or two of my kids on a couple of occasions, so I know all to well what it’s like when your mind is locked on target… =)

I woke up earlier than ususal and didn’t have any problems getting out of bed. I did my exercise as a good girl should and felt like I could have done more. At work – apart from spending some time googling nasty pics of excrements – I got loads of work done. When we got back home after work, we sat in the garden for over an hour. John in a chair having a drink – me on the bike doing a second round of exercise.

I whipped up some food and we retreated to the bedroom to order a cool paisley pattern walking stick for Mum online. John then lost himself in browsing for vintage watches and I started the long-winded process of doing my nails. I love having long nails and I take great pride in decorating them and making them look nice. John, on the other hand, thinks that long nails are disgusting and that my hands signals to all the men we meet that I can’t cook or clean. (I have yet to figure out why we should bother about what random men may think about my domestic goddess skills, but it is clearly of vital importance to him.) Last year I cut them down to please him. I felt like my fingers had been reduced to stubby sausages, but he was well happy. But after a year of pleasing him I thought it was about time I pleased myself so I let them grow out again. Last night we reached a compromise and they were cut down to half their length. Who knew the length of a nail would ever be the subject of relationship arguments? =)

Actually, arguments is not a fair description of the state of affairs in this relationship. We don’t have arguments. We do disagree on a number of subjects, but we have never had a heated argument. As much as we both like to talk a lot and put our opinions forward, we are also good listeners and we seem to be very good at making each other understand where we’re coming from. That makes it easy to compromise. After all, you want to make your partner happy and if both of you want the other half to be happy then it’s a win-win situation. But John loves a good discussion and I secretly believe that he has some stubborn principle about not agreeing with me too often for fear I might get too big-headed or something. He is nothing if not contrary and I often find myself wondering if he really disagrees with me or if he’s just being contrary. Yesterday, I said “You’re just being contrary!” but what he heard me saying was “You’re just being a cunt, really!” That had us both in stitches, but something tells me I’ll never hear the end of it… =)

So, last night I went to bed feeling that I had on the whole had a very good day. I’d got more work done than I had expected, I had eaten well, done more exercise than planned and was actually feeling pretty damn good about myself. I suppose the fact that I got to cuddle up with Mr Cunt, Really contributed to my feeling of extreme happpiness and well-being, but I’d like to think that some of it stemmed from five full days of eating nothing but healthy food, drinking loads of fluids and nurturing my body. Roll on Day 6!

Day 4: Exercise: No comment… Food: 1594 kcal, 200g of carbs, 95g protein and 45g fat. 6 cups of water and 2 cups of tea. Supplements: 1 multi vitamin. No alcohol, but half of a B&H. Too tired to function properly and felt like my brain had been coated in cotton wool. I also realised I was giving off some strange, almost metallic, body odour.

~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~ *** ~~~

Are we expecting some severe thunderstorms this week, or is it just my body going bonkers? I swear I have a funny smell, and I’m sweating profusely today. And now I’m going to say something that may offend sensitive readers, so if that is you – please stop reading here and move on to the next paragraph ok. You have been warned. No sensitive readers left? Ok, here we go then. Over the past couple of days I have been to the loo so many times I am now beginning to think I must have the marks of that seat imprinted on my backside. I seem to pee water (i.e. there’s no colour to my pee) and the other stuff we deposit in that place has also changed completely. What little there is doesn’t smell much and it has an altogether differnent consistency. I apologise for talking about such matters here, but you can’t really deal with the subject of a healthier lifestyle without delving into the deeper areas of change as well.

I have done some googling today (I guess that’s technically theft as I’m at work) and it seems that during a detox the body starts ridding itself of all nastiness that has been encapsulated within you for god knows how long. Hence the smell. And the sweat. I also read something really yucky about how toxins we get from food, drink, smoking and inhaling all sorts of bad stuff from the air we breathe are stored away in fat cells and in plaque in the colon because our bodies can’t break it down. The more wretched nasty stuff we have inside us, the more likely we are to have problems with anything from bloating and indigestion to bad sleeping patterns and skin problems. Apparently, you can clean your insides by following some kind of herbal cleansing regime. I think that may well be something I’d like to try. I saw some horrific pictures of what can be washed out of your system in a proper cleansing and the sheer thought that I might have something like that lurking inside me makes me feel sick.

So, what else is there to report? Well, I don’t feel quite as weepy today. Maybe because all other parts of my body are excreting fluids and whatnots. Maybe because the worst part of the fast is done now. I guess we’ll soon find out. Until then, it may be a good idea to get some work done… =)

A tout a l’heure!

Day 1: 2281 calories, 377g of carbs, 60g protein and 58g fat. 4 cups of water, 1 pint of soft drink and 1 cup of coffee. No supplements, no alcohol, no tobacco and no exercise. Felt moody and suffered from Leaky Eye Syndrome most of the day. Could have killed for a fag.

Calorie intake yesterday was good (I should try to stay just under 2500). Carbs will soar when you do loads of fruit so for now that’s ok too. Protein/fat not ideal but it was what I wanted. 4 cups of water are at least 4 too few, so will have to do better today. I don’t know why I keep forgetting the supplements. They are next to our bed so I really don’t have an excuse. Will take some now. Proud to say I resisted the urge to light up, although it was tough, and I also resisted the nicotine gums. Not so proud to say I didn’t exercise at all. As for the mood… I have no comments yet.

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So Operation Detox has commenced and I’m not dancing on the tables here. Can someone explain to me why I find it so hard, not to say impossible, to do something for myself? If John wants something I’ll walk a mile to get it. Happily. If he wants something for me, I’ll still walk a mile to get it. I might whinge and complain, failing to see why he wants it, but I’ll still do it. So, where does that dedication go when I want to do something for myself?

Since we first met, John and I have had numerous verbal battles concerning my priorities and my focus in life. One of them always rolls along the lines of:

Him: “Who’s the most important person in your life?”

Me: “You are!”

Him: “No, I’m not having that. It’s not good enough, baby!”

And since this first started, I’ve always believed that what’s not good enough for him is my conviction. The sincerity behind the statement. I’d be hurt that he wouldn’t believe me and next time he’d ask I’d give him the same answer with even more emphasis on the word “you”. With the same result. But one day something happened. One of his friends was visiting and we were sitting in the garden having a drink together. He was saying something about how he envied us our relationship and then he went off on a trot about his sad track record with women. Something about Rastaman and Respect and then he lost me completely until he said something about no woman ever beating him and we cracked up laughing. John said: “Go on and slap him one!” His mate said I’d better not or else. Brilliant!

It was all in good humour but I still felt trapped. See, normally I’d do anything for him, but slapping people around just for the hell of it is a completely different kettle of fish. So here was a problem. He’s quite proud of me and I could tell that his pride kinda expected me to show his mate that I’d do as I was told even if it was to jokingly slap someone’s face. I could also tell that his Mr Rastaman mate really meant business with his “or else”. John thought my reluctance to do as I was told was down to my being afraid of his mate’s retaliation. This vexed him as he now assumed that I thought he’d let anyone hurt me. What he failed to see was that I wouldn’t dream of slapping his friend for two reasons: 1) because I don’t believe in hitting people at all; and 2) because there was no doubt in my mind that if I had done so it would have started a chain reaction that – no matter how jokingly it had all begun – would have resulted in John and his mate getting physical with each other.

So, what has all of this got to do with fitness and detox, you may ask. Well, for me it has everything to do with what I am trying to achieve here. The moment in the garden taught me that the most important person in my life is Me! What I want and what I don’t want. What I can and what I can’t. What I will and what I won’t. John is the most important person in my life when I want him to be. When it suits my purposes and when it doesn’t clash with who I am. I guess you could say that it is my ultimate gift to him that I will make him my first priority. As long as he doesn’t abuse the power that gives him. Although he was just having a laugh, he did abuse that power when he asked me to slap his mate. And for the first time ever I said no. The most important person in my life is Me. I don’t want to slap people. I don’t want my love to beat up his mates over me. And I don’t want to be told to do stupid things just to prove that I’d do anything for love.

What I want is peace of mind. I want a mens sana in corpore sano (a healthy mind in a healty body in case you don’t do Latin ). I want to give my body the same attention to detail as I give my mind. I want to feed myself with the same care as we feed the kids, pets, cars and vans in this house. I don’t let the kittens get through a whole day without food, but very often I come home from work having had nothing but 8 cups of tea and as many fags in a day. I only buy dead expensive, super nutritional kitty food for them little blighters (cheap cat food can apparently give them kidney problems as it contains too much salt), but I don’t think twice about stuffing a quick sandwich or burger (that most likely will give me more than just a kidney problem) down my own throat when I’m feeling faint and need to chuck some fuel onto my fire to keep me going. We buy some super mega turbo whatsisname type of oil for the cars because the cheap stuff is no good. Yet when I want a drink, I very often pick the cheap stuff “because it’s ok”. Which, of course, it’s not.

The reason I said “I” in all of the previous paragraph is because there’s no “we” here.  See, John would never do any of those things. He wouldn’t feed his body nothing but tea and fags. No matter how much work he has to do (and he’s always got loads!) he’ll take the time to sit down and have a proper meal. He’d never buy a cheap sandwich or burger to stuff himself with. He wouldn’t have to, because he wouldn’t be in that “need food this minute or will faint” situation to begin with.  And he most certainly would never be caught dead with a bottle of plonk or cheap whisky. If he can’t afford to buy the best stuff he’d rather go without.

Operation Detox began yesterday. I need to clean my body, my mind, my soul and my finances. My body should, reasonably, be the easiest bit to take control over and that’s where I’ll start. It needs proper TLC both on the outside and on the inside, but first things first. I’m gonna do this from the inside and out. Yesterday, I had nothing but fruit and water all day and then three small slices of chicken breast in the evening for protein. I didn’t get enough water in (only 4 cups) so am trying to do better in that respect today. I haven’t decided what to have for protein today, but I’m thinking of eggs. We’ll see. Another thing I haven’t decided is for how long this fasting stage is going to continue. Or, actually I have. I have decided to let my body decide. I’m sure if I listen to it, for a change, it will tell me what it wants.

Today, it’s time to get serious about the exercising again. Last year John was making me get up and work my body into a healthy sweat each morning before going to work. Some days I hated him for it, but I did it. And it made me feel on top of of the world once I’d done it and had my shower after. But then as things got tough (which I have blogged about before) I couldn’t seem to keep it up. Sure, I still got up and did some exercise, but it was healf-hearted and nowhere near as intense as before. I blamed it on being too tired and on an aching body. With rheumatism, the body always aches so that’s a pretty lame excuse. And my tiredness, n0 doubt, stemmed from the fact that I was pushing athlete style performances out of a body that was fed nothing but bread and water. Figuratively speaking.

It’s only midday, and right now I could kill for a fag. I’d love to make myself a ginormous latte, grab a book and some B&Hs and park my backside in the sunshine for the rest of the afternoon. But I won’t. Because that’s not what my body needs. Instead I’m going to refill my water bottle, take my supplements, move one of the exercise bikes into the garden and work my backside into a good sweat in the sunshine. Because that’s exactly what my body needs whether I like it or not.

Having fallen off the band wagon ever so slightly, I decided that the summer should be a good time to climb back up it again. The New Fitness Regime I started last year brought about some changes that I’m very proud of. I have bought my first pair of non elasticated trousers in over 20 years. I have made better food and drink choices. And I have exercised more. But this year I have also worked harder, been more stressed and taken refuge in fags every so often. And I have not had a good night’s sleep in ages. It’s time to take a firm hold of the reins again!

One thought has occupied my mind lately: Why is it that some of us spend so much time looking after our brain and/or our soul while completely forgetting to look after our bodies? I have spent uncountable hours and more money than I want to think of developing my mental capacity over the past 19 years. I have gone to uni, studied whatever extra courses I felt would be beneficial for me and strategically tried to advance my career in line with my aspirations. During this time, my body has been in a pretty poor shape and there has been times when I’ve needed help to get out of bed in the morning. Still, physical fitness never quite made it on to my list of priorities.

When I met John, he challenged the way I think about most things. One of them was fitness. He taught me to see the body as a temple. Something to be proud of and look after. And I realised that the only time I’ve been proud of my body was when it was carrying, and giving birth to, my children. Apart from that I can’t remember ever having felt a very close relationship with my body. But now the thinking cap is on…

Bearing in mind that I’ve spent the past 20 years investing time and money in my brain; it doesn’t make sense to have a top head on a third rate body now does it? After all, it would be pretty pointless to hone my mental capacities if my body won’t be able to hang in there for much longer. And there’s my new reason to look after myself. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today to want to risk cutting my life anyshorter than it has to be. I want to hang in here as long as I can and while I’m here I want to be able to do whatever I feel like doing without having to worry about whether my body will cope. Like our planned bicycle trip to Paris in 2012 (that John doesn’t believe I’ll be up for…). And, of course, I want to feel good in my body as well. So here we go again.

Today, I logged my measures on fitday.com again. My non elasticated trousers are now so big I can pull them up and down without unbuttoning them first, and I have to pull them up all the time when I’m walking. In that light, I shouldn’t have been too nervous about checking the measures, but of course I was. Worrying is my thing and my perception of my own body has been distorted since way before my first year in school, so there you go. Turned out, my worries were silly though.

My vital statistics today (on top) and a year ago (bottom).

My thighs are 10cm smaller (or less fat), my hips have lost 16cm and my waist 14cm. This is, of course, not quite as good as it would have been had I stuck to my plan, but to have kept losing inches whilst not strictly sticking with the regime is pretty darn good in my books. And my books are the only books that matter now.

Today it’s been a week since I started outlining my new programme, and today it’s also been a week since I started counting my food again. This past week I have just done it for reference, to see what I’d get on a typical week.

My calorie intake over week 1

An average of just over 1500 kcal is a little too little for me, and looking back at what I’ve eaten it hasn’t exactly been the most nutritious food. I’m always tired, but I haven’t slept well since John’s problems began. I think what I need to do first of all is to boost up my energy levels with a proper detox. Flush the system out and get some vitamins in. That normally lifts my spirits and reinvigorates my energy levels.

Today I’ve been on a fruit and water fast all day and then a little bit of chicken for protein in te evening. I’ve had one cup of coffee but no fags. Tomorrow I will try to stick to the fruit and water fast with just a little bit of protein in the evening. Monday, on the other hand, I’m gonna want more food as I’m going to work so maybe I’ll make a salad or something. We’ll see.

For today, I’m just happy to report that I’m back on track, that my measurements have gone down although I haven’t been all that strict and that I’m nowhere near as excited as I was last year when John kicked my arse into gear. Whether that’s a good or a bad thing remains to be seen.

So, the the new year didn’t arrive with its usual feeling of hope and excitement. Instead, I woke up to each new day with a sense of dread and despair. I had lost my man and in my head I was going through every single day we had spent together to find the moment where things went wrong. To figure out what I had done. It took me quite some time to come to the conclusion that this might not be about me after all. Maybe it was her. Maybe he had fallen in love with her. It would not be completely out of place, would it, for someone whose family values are so strong (and who deep down believes that a child should grow up with a mum and a dad who love each other dearly, thereby setting good examples for the child to mould their future relationships around) to want to have a proper relationship with the mother of his baby?

But the weeks went by and nothing changed. His daddy duty trips did not increase in frequency and by the looks of things she was not moving any closer. The answer to what really was wrong should have come as a relief, but it didn’t. It just brought on another wave of guilt and despair. How could I not have known. Why hadn’t I noticed. My love was suffering but I was too wrapped up in myself, in my grief, to see what was happening. I was convinced he’d dumped me. He said, au contraire, he still had a 25-year lease on my soul that he had no intention of giving up. Yet very little changed. It was still mainly work and solitude.

Knowing that there was a real problem helped. I hadn’t just dreamed all those enchanted days where I was the happiest woman on earth and he was the perfect man. The question that kept playing on my mind, however, was: Was this the real John? I had been prepared to love him for better for worse, but was this John for worse? Or was this his normal self and the ‘perfect man’ John for better? If so – what was he like for worse? I remembered Oprah Winfrey once said the reason she’d never married Stedman was because she could never get her head around exactly how bad for worse could be. Now I knew exactly what she meant!

What do you do when the love of your life no longer gives you what he used to give you? When he’s no longer providing you with the support that you’ve come to rely on? When, quite frankly, the buttons he’s pushing are not the ones you want to have pushed? Do you cut and run, knowing that you’ll be forever asking yourself if there was nothing more you could have done? Or do you stay and hope for the best, knowing that you’ll never forgive yourself if you’d left the best thing that ever happened to you the minute the going got tough? I chose the latter.

When two adults with more than just a little bit of baggage are trying to build a future together, you have to expect some crashes, collisions and compromises. John and I are polar opposites in some repects and ridicolously alike in others. He’s romantic whereas I’m pragmatic. He’s a dreamer whereas I’m a doer. He’s a fixer whereas I’m a breaker. He’s prone to inductive reasoning whereas I’m prone to deductive reasoning. We’re both moody and stubborn. We’re easily hurt. We have an often foolish sense of pride. And we have a tendency to discard people who have hurt or insulted us. Sometimes something, or someone, has got to give. This time, I thought, that someone had better be me or we’ll both end up storming off feeling sorry for ourselves

So I gave until it hurt and I waited. For a sign. Or a miracle. Or something. Flying on wings on love one day – drowning in a sea of sorrows the next. But, amazingly, I realised that each week was slightly better than the last one. It was baby steps, but we were definitely moving forward.  And then one day I was shell shocked. One of his mates told me I was wasting my time. He said I ought to get my arse online and start looking for better options. He said he wanted to be my friend. He even said he was dreaming of finding himself a woman like me. But I should let go and move on and find my real place in life. I told him to sod off! I said that I was perfectly happy to let things be where they were and allow my man the time and space he needed to heal. And that’s when the bomb hit me. His mate looked dumbstruck and was wondering what the hell I was talking about. Leave John?!? Why the hell would he want me to leave John? Did I think he’d like to hurt his best friend? No, he was talking about one of my jobs!

See, the shell shocking effect here was that the minute he took my hand, said he wanted to be my friend and told me I was wasting my time I immediately assumed he was talking about John. Why is that? What does that say about me? For what reason did it seem perfectly natural to me that his best mate would tell me to go bark up another tree if I wanted to get somewhere with my love life? I relayed (parts of) this conversation to John (I am sworn to secrecy by his mate where the finer details are concerned) and he just gave me one of his black looks and asked why I wanted concern myself with a converation like that to begin with. He even went as far as to suggest  there was a level of madness in the whole thing. For me, it was the moment my heartbreak turned into a blessing.

You can be selfish in many different ways. Some people are so eager not to draw attention to themselves that they end up doing just that. They are selfish in some back hand kind of way. Some people are so neurotic in certain areas of their lives that they get completely selfish, thinking it’s all about them one way or the other. Some people are so wrapped up in selfrighteousness that they forget about the people around them. I guess I have been guilty of all of these in my relationship over the last year. And that’s an absolutely horrific realisation!

I was so wrapped up in my own grief and pain that I failed to see when it hit the one I love. And when he was as grief-stricken as I was, and when the physical pain left him battling for air, all I could think of was why he was so cold. So distant. Was he leaving me? I guess I’m going to have to spend quite some time trying to figure that one out. But until I do, I have already learned something very important.

Not all heartbreak is bad for you! I, for one, definitely needed to stay put through a relationship crisis and learn how to move on. How to get through. And how to trust that the love is strong enough to withstand some thunder storms. And I needed to learn that the main motivation behind any kind of major shift in your life cannot be dependent on someone else. Or, as John says, you got to do what you got to do. If fitness is what you want, you need to work fitness into your daily routine. For you. Not because someone else wants you to. Not because someone else might find you more attractive if you do. Not to get something in the end. You’ve got to do it for you.

I wouldn’t say the crisis is over – far from it – but I will say this. Danko Jones had a point when he sang that heartbreak is a blessing! For me, it has taught me to be more selfish in a new way and less selfish in another. I want to get back 0n track with my fitness regime, but this time I want to do it for me. Not because John wants me to. I have finally figured out that my body belongs to me and that it needs just as much nourishment as my brain does. And that the only one who has a vested interest in providing that nourishment is me. I have also figured out that not everything that John says or does is related to something that I have said or done. It is quite possible for him to be a grumpy old fucker just because he really is a grumpy old fucker. (Don’t tell him I said that!! lol) It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s thinking of leaving me. And it doesn’t mean that I should start packing my bags so that I can get one over on him. It took me 42 years to learn that lesson…

A year ago I was working on a New Fitness Regime and it was an almost all-consuming project which leaked into every single aspect of my day. I was counting my calories, making healthier choices, getting a daily dose of physical exercise, watching my sleeping patterns, checking the water intake, taking nutritional supplements and whatever else I could think of doing to get myself back in shape. It was fun! It made me feel fabulous! And yet I fell off the band wagon.

“But why??!!” I hear you ask.

Because I did it for the wrong reason.

My New Fitness Regime was launched after our Doctor at the fertility clinic gave me a stern talking to about looking after my health and boosting my body up to cope with another pregnancy. John, always the fixer, immediately took charge of the situation determined to whip me into shape. Because he loves me and won’t let me suffer a “bruk dung” body if there’s anything he can do to fix it. I tagged along because the equation offered the two things I want the most in this world – him and his baby. Our baby.

I had lost our baby earlier that year, my fifth miscarriage. The pain was exruciating. I felt like someone had ripped the womb out of my body, emptied its contents into the nearest bin and slapped my face. I was struggling to breathe. Struggling to feel. And praying to the powers that be, asking them for strength not to hate. For the one thing worse than losing your baby is losing your baby while another woman is carrying your man’s seed. When she gives birth to his child. When you have to share his happiness over the newborn baby; battling your own jealousy and that ugly voice inside your head saying that baby should have been mine. When you spend your weekends alone while he visits his baby. When you listen to him telling your friends how there’s no greater happiness than that of watching your child trying to find its feet or learning to put food in its own mouth. A happiness he shares with someone else. A happiness you have been denied.

Through summer and autumn I battled the green-eyed monster. I was trying so hard to come to terms with the fact that the man I love had given what I wanted more than anything in this world to someone else. It wasn’t meant to be and it wasn’t what he wanted – I knew that – but jealousy isn’t rational. God only knows how badly I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. To feel how I felt. But then again, any hurt that would fall on the mother would inevitably cast its shadow over the baby as well, and I didn’t want any harm to come to his child.

John carried me through all this madness. With his wisdom, his patience and his love, he helped me be a bigger and better person then my sinful soul wanted me to be at the time.  I also had my old survival strategy of living for the moment to hang on to. And the New Fitness Regime. The programme that would ultimately save me from this endless torture and give me the baby that every fibre of my being was crying out for. So I weighed and I measured and I calculated and I logged. I felt like I was doing something instead of just being a victim. And just when I began to believe that I was actually going to get through all of this the unthinkable happened. My life support system began to crumble.

He is a very private man, my love, so exactly what happened cannot be made public but he took some serious blows. To his health. And to his heart. And he stopped talking. The man who had always told me everything went silent. And he went awol. Sometimes for a few hours. Sometimes for weeks. I thought I had lost him. Lost my love. Lost my dreams. Lost my future. And with that, my readiness to subscribe to some obscure Fitness Regime come baby making programme went out the window. Heartbroken and defeated I went out and bought some fags…

My solution to insoluble problems has always been music and fags. Music, whether I’m writing it or listening to it, dictates which way my mind is allowed to spin. Fags, for some reason, calms me down and replaces every single need you can think of. They must be the best drug in the world! I have smoked instead of eating when I’m hungry and instead of drinking when I’m thirsty. I have smoked to be able to fall asleep in the evening and to be able to wake up in the morning. I have smoked when I’ve had no one to hold me close and tell me it’ll all be ok. I have smoked instead of crying when I’m sad and instead of laughing when I’m happy. (Both are so frightfully pointless to do on your own.) I think I have smoked as a substitute for every single physical or emotional need you can think of. And I’ve done so for nearly 40 years (with a 7-year intermission). This time was no exception.

I couldn’t function without him. Correction. I didn’t want to function without him. The man who had taught me to be vulnerable and to accept the presence of a man in my life was gone. I had no wish to replace him and I no longer wanted to go back to where my life had been before his invasion. So where, exactly, did that leave me?

Yep, that’s it. In the middle of sodding nowhere with nothing but endless solitude and excruciating pain to look forward to. Work. Solitude. More work. More solitude. And this, I told myself, was exactly why I had fought so hard to resist him in the first place. I knew he’d be trouble. I knew he’d break my heart if I let him to close. Yet, like Icarus, I couldn’t stay away from the heat. I knew better, yet I went and got myself head over heels tied up in this man. Now I would have to pay the price. So, you may ask, what’s the cost of a broken heart these days?

20 Benson & Hedges a day and a “so what” approach to fitness.

Today, I’m outlining the plan for a new project. I have spent years healing and nurturing the mental side of myself to a point where I now live a life where I am proud of who I am and what I do. Now the time has come to begin taking the physical side just as seriously. My body needs some serious TLC and August will mark the beginning of a new sustainable regime.

Há um tempinho atrás Eu e Ana Rita Schwaner fizemos esse artigo para uma matéria da Faculdade.

Apesar de ser sedentário, admiro o branding da Adidas.

Antes de enrolar, vou postá-lo aqui.

POSSÍVEL É TUDO
Ana Rita Schwaner
Thiago Sganzerla

Leia: “Impossível é nada”. Isso pode ter causado certa sensação de déja vu em você, mas ao ler “impossible is nothing” sem dúvida lembrará de um comercial ou de um anúncio bacana. Pode até confundir se é X ou é Y, mas no seu inconsciente não terá incertezas ao indicar que é sobre uma marca de artigos esportivos e, em pouco tempo, saberá que a tagline é da Adidas. E dela, com certeza, você tem algo em casa ou gostaria de ter. Porém, se não quer ter ou não conhece ninguém que queira ter, parabéns, você é uma rara excessão.
Gostar ou não gostar da tagline da Adidas não está sob nosso julgamento e nem queremos causar polêmica sobre isso. Mas vale citar que a frase(zinha) chamada por nós, publicitários, de frase conceito está no “ar” há pouco tempo, se comparada com outras do mesmo ramo, como por exemplo, “Just do it”, da Nike. Sua principal concorrente na América, e mais próxima na Europa, onde a Adidas é a líder do mercado e mesmo assim é sempre lembrada por (até) leigos no assunto. Se a tagline não for boa para ti, ao menos para a Adidas ela é incrível. Nós, autores deste artigo, bem que gostaríamos de ter criado uma frase conceito que pode assinar qualquer tipo de publicidade voltada ao lado mais esportivo, ou ao mais fashion, ou ao mais casual da marca sem o menor problema. O importante, publicitariamente falando, é que ser abrangente pode ser ruim para muitas marcas, mas para a que está em questão é extremante positivo.
Elaborado pela 180/TBWA, o slogan “Impossible is nothing” foi criado inicialmente para uma campanha anual – já nascendo grande. Mas o sucesso da campanha e o modo como foi planejado superou as espectativas e a frase conceito acabou por se tornar slogan da marca. Sobre esse fato Erich Stamminger, membro do conselho executivo da adidas-Salomon AG, responsável pelo Marketing Global e Presidente da Adidas América, observa que “Impossible is Nothing é a melhor tradução do nosso posicionamento de marca, que de forma direta e emocional comunica nossa paixão por esporte.” Se não fosse o bastante, ele ainda explica: “como um atleta sempre aspira seguir em frente, abrir novos horizontes e superar seus limites, nós como marca fazemos o mesmo, para executar nossa missão de ser a maior marca esportiva do mundo”.
A Adidas pode até não ser a maior marca esportiva de todo o mundo, mas na Europa ela é, e na América está no quase. Sabemos que não há só dois continentes no mundo, mas esses são –
consumidoramente dissertando – os mais importantes. Por isso os investimentos são altíssimos nos países que contemplam os lugares citados. A empresa, mesmo sendo a maior investidora no futebol pelo mundo todo, não deixa que a Nike, sua maior concorrente até nesse sentido, pegar a posição. Ela é a principal patrocinadora dos maiores clubes de futebol do mundo, além de patrocinar e fornecer as bolas para os jogos da Fifa, desde a copa de 1970, e também da Uefa; conquistando a simpatia dos amantes de futebol, seja no Maracanã ou num quintal improvisado no lote da casa vizinha. Improvisado no lote da casa vizinha? Mas os produtos são destinados a uma classe mais alta! Ok, eu concordo, porém nada impede que o “joãozinho” assista ao comercial da Adidas ou vá a uma lan-house e acesse os vídeos virais da marca, incialmente criados em 2004 para a campanha “impossible is nothing”, contando as histórias dos atletas que fizeram o impossível para se tornarem quem são. Caso como o do brasileiro Diego Hypólito, que narra sua história do momento em que nasceu, até o momento em que se tornou campeão, fraturou seu joelho, se recuperou, treinou e se tornou campeão mundial na sua modalidade. Altamente inspirador. Sem contar a dos outros atletas que foram para a televisão e os mais de 50 vídeos espalhados pelo youtube.com em vários idiomas.
Parece que o efeito da campanha foi tão grandioso que uma de suas franquias quis expor para todos o efeito “impossible is nothing” e fez esse painel na principal entrada da loja:

Painel em uma loja no Soho – Nova York/EUA Fonte: Impossible is nothing. Acesso em: 20/06/2009.

Com uma tradução livre, nós diriamos que é algo assim: “Impossível é apenas uma palavra grande, lançada ao vento por homens “pequenos” que acham mais fácil viver no mundo que foi dado pra eles, do que explorar o poder que eles tem de mudá-lo. Impossível não é um fato. É uma opinião. Impossível não é uma declaração. É uma ousadia. Impossível é potencial. Impossível é temporário. O impossível é nada.”
O espírito de transpor limites, de não ter ninguém o impendindo de ir além, a fim de crescer e ter essa força que o faz mover, não foi capturada por acaso por todos aqueles envolvidos de alguma forma com a marca. Mas foi através de todo o meio usado pela Adidas e assinado pelo slogan que a marca conseguiu um posicionamento emocional nem um ramo dito tão racional e com muitas “vantagens” tecnológicas.
O case mais recente e mais desafiador para a Adidas e todo o brand value que envolve a marca já aconteceu. Ou melhor, ainda está acontecendo no mundo todo, pois se trata da concorrência mundial pela conta da Adidas e eis que surge uma sacada genial de uma agência sueca chamada Volontaire. Em um surto de inovação, a agência convocou três de seus vários estagiários para serem os comandantes da campanha que concorrerá. O resultado ainda não saiu, mas não há dúvidas que a agência entendeu muito bem o conceito da Adidas, e com certeza chamou a atenção da Adidas mundial. O projeto foi chamado de “the impossible pitch”. Além de ter chamado a atenção da mídia, gerou buzz pelo mundo todo e somou muitos pontos positivos para a Volontaire.

The Impossible Pitch Fonte: Bruno Delfino. Acesso em: 20/06/2009.

Avaliar uma marca com tamanha inovação e que ultrapassou a linha de ser apenas uma fornecedora de materiais esportivos, tornando-se muito próxima do cotidiano do consumidor, é um grande desafio. Mas como bem diz o slogan: impossível é nada, e por isso aqui estamos nós, com o desafio de chegar a um paragráfo que conclua o que é a Adidas.
O nome surgiu da união do apelido do fundador “Adi” com o início de seu sobrenome “Dassler”, e assim surgiu a Adidas. Mas e aí? O que isso tem a ver com a conclusão? O fato é que uma empresa cujo nome se deu assim, quase que por brincadeira e mesmo assim se mantém até hoje no mercado, e muitíssimo bem, tem mesmo que inovar, sair do padrão, fugir da casinha, ir além da zona do conforto. O mundo mudou e algumas marcas não se deram conta disso, bem o oposto do que ocorre com a Adidas que vira e mexe lá está ela nos surpreendendo com ações cada vez mais inovadoras e soluções criativas para as plataformas já existentes. Essa é Adidas e, para ela, impossible is nothing.

“Impossible is nothing” atau “tidak mungkin itu bukanlah apa-apa”, dan kebalikannya, “nothing is impossible” atau “tidak ada yang tidak mungkin”, maksud sama, beda-beda tipislah, yang ingin mengatakan impossible sesungguhnya tidaklah perlu ada! Keduanya mengecilkan peran impossible; keduanya diungkapkan oleh 2 orang di 2 era yang berbeda. Menarik juga, dibolak-balik bisa sama, ya. Jadi, Impossible is Nothing is Impossible, atau, Nothing is Impossible is Nothing? Hehe… setali tiga uang.

” Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.” (John C. Maxwell, penulis & motivator Amerika.)

“ Tidak mungkin atau impossible, adalah ungkapan yang terlontar dari sebagian orang untuk menikmati hidup di dunia sebagai anugerah (sehingga tak perlu repot-repot), dan tidak berupaya menggali daya yang tersembunyi di dalam diri mereka, untuk mengubah hidupnya. Impossible bukan kenyataan; impossible hanyalah sebuah pandangan (sempit). Impossible juga bukan pernyataan; impossible adalah sebuah keberanian (untuk berubah dan mengubah). Impossible adalah daya (yang bisa mempengaruhi orang), sifatnya hanyalah sementara (sampai ada orang yang berani mengubahnya). Impossible bukanlah apa-apa! ”

“There is nothing impossible to him who will try.” (Alexander Agung)

“ Tidak ada yang tidak mungkin bagi orang yang (berani) mencoba” (dan tidak pernah jera dan mau berhenti sebelum berhasil!).

Sayang hanya sedikit saja yang sanggup membuktikan impossible itu tidak perlu ada. (Jadi istilah impossible ter”paksa” ada karena tetap diperlukan oleh yang lain. Hehe… aya-aya wae.) Munculnya kaidah 20/80 Pareto (baca artikel “Memulai Berpikir Positif “), hasil survai yang hanya 2% orang penduduk dunia saja yang mengendalikan 50% kekayaan dunia, kisah sukses Archimedes, Thomas Alva Edison, kolonel Sanders (ada yang belum kenal?), Soichiro Honda, Tirto Utomo, dan generasi baby boomers (orang kaya dunia, nantilah ceritanya), hanyalah indikasi keberadaan impossible “coret” (impossible).

Semua kata berkurung adalah tambahan saya untuk memperjelas. Kedua ungkapan sama bagusnya, banyak dipakai semboyan dalam dunia olahraga, musik, spiritual, dan lain-lain. (Lihat YouTube). Saya lebih coock ungkapan ke dua yang meski tidak diucapkan, temuan dalam dunia rekayasa atau enjiniring seperti hasil kerja keras idola saya Soichiro Honda, sudah cukup berbicara. Gambar kartun di atas juga sama.

Sanggupkah saya membuktikan blog sesuai impian saya? Hehe.., belum tahu, tetapi nothing is impossible. Ya, ‘kan? Ya, ‘kan? Paling tidak itulah modal awal yang saya percayai penuh untuk memulai bloging ini…

[1] Banyak motivasi bagus John Maxwell ada di sini
[2] Kata motivasi Alexander The Great diambil dari sini
[3] “World Without Engineers”, Agilent Technolioges, gambar kartun hi-res dan screen saver

Ogni tanto è bene ricordarlo. Me lo devo ricordare.. sempre..

io ci credo..

Realmente impresionante ha sido la presentación de Cristiano Ronaldo esta noche. Todo un despliegue a la altura del talento como futbolista que ha fichado el club blanco. He realizado alguna mención a la estrategia de Florentino Pérez este año, al igual que lo hizo en su anterior candidatura, pero es que hoy ha alcanzado otro nivel.
Ver el Santiago Bernabeú repleto, con gente en las afueras del estadio intentando entrar para poder ver a uno de sus nuevos ídolos, Cristiano Ronaldo. El Madrid ha recuperado en un mes, todo lo que había perdido en los últimos meses, incluso temporadas. Y lo más importante es que además lo ha hecho sin jugar, lo ha hecho gestionando las emociones de su afición, con un líder al frente, Florentino Pérez.
Florentino no sólo ha devuelto la ilusión a la afición del Real Madrid, sino que está catapultando al equipo, lo está contagiando y catalizando para pelear por todo, ha invitado a sus jugadores y a su afición a soñar, haciendo juego del eslogan de adidas, “impossible is nothing”, nada es imposible, para el Real Madrid de Florentino.
Ahora resta lo más difícil, mantenerse arriba y con la ilusión intacta. Con fuerza para luchar por esos sueños que el nuevo presidente blanco ha mostrado a sus incondicionales.
Ahora mismo, el Madrid gana por goleada al Barsa en autoestima, en autoliderazgo, en afición, en definita, en gestión emocional. Son dos formas muy diferentes de hacer las cosas, y la verdad es que lo que ha hecho el Barcelona será difícil que lo repita cualquier equipo, pero qué importante es COMUNICAR lo que se ha logrado y utilizarlo como herramienta para CONTAGIAR a la afición y a los integrantes del proyecto. Cualquier logro, por importante que sea, se olvida rápidamente si no se sabe extender y comunicar a la altura que se merece. Para mí, para Alberto Conde Mellado, precisamente en eso, Florentino Pérez y su equipo de comunicación y marketing son unos genios. Es sublime lo que han realizado y cómo han creado una expectativa en torno a un equipo que había sido pitado en los últimos partidos en Chamartín.
Un modelo de análisis para cualquier emprendedor, que muestra la importancia de la comunicación, de las emociones, de los sueños y sobre todo, la importancia del liderazgo y la tripulación. El movimiento emocional del nuevo Real Madrid ha comenzado.

Muhammad Ali vs Laila Ali »

Ci siamo quasi. FORZA DAVE!!!