SWIMSTAKES!

These are some of the most popular search terms that have brought people to this blog this week, according to wordpress:

‘swimwear’

‘most dangerous shark in the world’

‘boys swimwear pics’

‘triathlon guys’

– I can only speculate about which of these searches faced the most disappointment.

As none of the search terms included ‘The Ben Gelblum Swim2Bestival office (or home) swimstakes ™’ , I had better remedy that with this easy-to-cut-out Ben Gelblum Swim2Bestival office (or home) swimstakes ™.

Just cut out these options and you can have a sweepstakes gamble type thing with your colleagues/friends/family about my athletic & fundraising prowess or watery demise in the Swim2Bestival on September 8:

SWIMSTAKES!

And if you’ve got time to do that, you’ve DEFINITELY got time to click on this:

http://www.bmycharity.com/swim2bestival4FAN 

and sponsor my once-in-a-lifetime athletic endeavour and help lots of children in urgent need of cancer treatment.

Do it today! It’s Neuroblastoma Awareness Week, so please spread the word!

Yours swimmingly,

or not really swimmingly today as I’ve got a sniffly nose,

Ben x

PS: sponsor me now: http://www.bmycharity.com/swim2bestival4FAN

Which is the most middle class festival?

Apparently, Michael Eavis has been gagging on his homegrown artichokes about how middle class Glastonbury’s become.

Worrying (-my favourite passtime) about how my speedos would fit in with Bestival’s fancy dress theme, I began to wonder which IS the most middle class festival?

In the old days festivals were affairs where you’d be scared to leave your tent in case you ran into people like this:

Nowadays, you’re more likely to be queuing for houmous & flatbread with people like this:

Eavis may have a point, especially as this year to get to Glastonbury you needed an array of fast-broadband computers to rival a stockbroker’s to bag a ticket online, unless you went VIP TeePee.

So WHICH is the most middle class festival?

Probably NOT Glastonbudget in Leicestershire which angrily shouts: “FACT- this year you wont even pay more than 50p for a hot drink! That’s a FACT!” The “World’s Best Tribute Festival. EVER” also boasts the Antarctic Monkeys, Blings of Leon, Oasish, the Fillers & “REAL ACT: Doctor & the Medics.”

And probably not V Festival. Because it’s in Chelmsford. Wear wellies to wade through the ankle-deep discarded fried chicken boxes, fast-food wrappers & ketchup.

So is it the Big Chillax – where you can get the best falafel this side of Tripoli?

The Sussex highbrow hijinks that is Lah-titude – where dodgy dancing will be put to shame by Saddlers Wells performers?

Is it one dreamt up by the smug marketing team of fruit smoothies, where it’s not just the music that’s live, but the yoghurt too?

Or is it indeed Bestival, with Pimms bus & Boden shop?

And if Bestival’s face-painters aren’t beseiged by yummy mummies, how about Breastival- ( www.thebreastfeedingfestival.org.uk ) where you can all lie in a giant breast-shaped circle, or be lectured on The Role of Men in Breastfeeding (- which I thought was looking sheepishly at your shoes?)

Lettuce know what you think, below – also any tips about not drowning on my swim2bestival appreciated! And any tips about how my speedos could fit in with this year’s Bestival’s fancy dress theme of ‘Rock Stars, Pop Stars & Divas’?

Sponsor me : http://www.bmycharity.com/swim2bestival4FAN & I promise more pictures of me in my swimwear!

Love, Ben.

All the gear and no idea

Gimp my ride

This is the simple 16-step process of squeezing into a neoprene triathlon swimsuit:

Half an hour squeezing my lardy self into the first swimsuit and I did indeed feel like I’d done a triathlon.

The second one I tried on in the triathlon shop cut off circulation to all kinds of important parts.

And by the time I’d struggled into the figure-hugging third suit (which had already broken the £150 mark) I had to ask the shop staff to help me get out of it again. As I had lost all strength in my hands.

Still, flattering aren’t they:

After trying on half a dozen swimsuits, I was beginning to turn blue, could no longer lift my arms, and my testicles had been squeezed back inside my groin.

The patient staff at Bike and Run in East Finchley had by now watched their lunch from the chippie go cold, and looked as if squeezing me in and out of these suits had kind of killed their appetites anyway.

Swimsuit number 7 was definitely the one, they all agreed. A perfect fit. And hi-tec enough to keep my whole body not only warm – but streamlined as I’d bob across the Solent waves like a rubber duck. 

I was too exhausted to disagree. Let alone speak.

I won’t reveal how much I spent, to purchase something that makes me look rather like a gimp who’s lost their mask:

Batman Begins... in East Finchley

Somehow I was happy to pay all that for the staff to just let me out of the rubbery torture costume. I’d hoped it would accentuate my athletic physique somewhat. But for some reason I resembled the unironic rubber-clad people I’d glimpsed the only time I’ve ever wandered (BY MISTAKE) in – and straight back out again – of an S&M club. Funnily enough Bike and Run didn’t seem to sell many bicycles with me staggering about the shop stuck-fast in waterproof neoprene…

Now to don it for a trial swim at the lido in Hampstead Heath. My outdoor swimming pal Pat insists it’s the best place to put me through my paces.

That’s if I ever manage to squeeze myself into this ridiculous thing.

Not sure how it’s going to go down on the C11 bus to Hampstead Heath.

Love,

Sportacus x.

PS: While I’m mincing around Hampstead Heath like a fat Sportacus, help FAN help some kids with Neuroblastoma:  http://www.bmycharity.com/swim2bestival4FAN