...Think, Think, Think...:

I'm not much of a one for exercise.

By that, I mean that I don't do any. I walk to work, but thats the sum total of it.

The thing I never seem to learn is that by doing nothing all to take care of my aging muscles, I'm actually doing myself more harm than good.

Case in point: My hamstrings and calf muscles. They hurt. All. The. Time. A lack of stretching combined with daily wear of 4 inch heels around the office have equalled short, tight muscles. Its been going on for some time and I tried my best to ignore it. I dabbled with a few stretching exercises that I'd do for a couple of days and then stop. Big mistake. Huge, in fact.

Recently,it got so bad that I had no choice but to seek professional help and on the recommendation of a colleague, went to see his sports masseuse.

When you hear the word "massage" you think to yourself "ahhhh, lovely, relaxing massage."

If you put the word "sports" in front of "massage" you find yourself presented with an entirely different response. Along the lines of "FUCK! OW! STOP IT!"

I can't explain to you how painful it is to have tight calf muscles massaged. It's truly one of the most horrific physical experiences I've had. The masseuse herself is lovely and by all accounts very good at what she does. If by very good at what she does, people mean "adequately skilled to introduce you to intense muscular pain".

There are two acts of evil that are part of the treatment that I feel compelled to mention. The first is known as the lock and key and involves the masseuse bending your leg so your foot is up in the air and then jamming her knuckles into the bottom of your hamstrings, just above the knee. In a flexible person the foot should then drop down, indicating that the muscles and tendons are loose. In an inflexible person (i.e. me) it hurts immensely. The kind of pain that pushes you to hysterical laughter because you can't even cry, it hurts so much.

The second act of evil is when the masseuse rubs over your calf muscles, finds a knot and then presses on it. She asks you how bad the pain is on a scale of one to ten and holds it there, letting the pain radiate through you until it eventually subsides. The science behind it is that the pressure starves the knot of blood, then when the pressure is released blood rushes through and clears some of the toxins.

I've also been given a few stretches to do in conjunction with the massage. One I like, the other two (which are painful) not so much.

So whats the point of this rambling post, you ask? Its a bit of a public service announcement really.

People, please....stretch. Daily. I urge you. You don't want to have to have a sports massage. You really, really don't.

I love going to the theatre. But its a conditional love. I love going to the theatre if the venue is right.

Yesterday, I went to Trafalgar Studios to catch the matinee of Kurt and Sid, starring Danny Dyer and Shaun Evans.

The Trafalgar Studios used to be the old Whitehall theatre but have been split into two. I can only speak for studio 2, but its a fabulous space. Its a very intimate setting, only seating 100 and you feel as though you're in the thick of it. The actors are literally right in front of you, not elevated on a stage. They're close enough that you can see everything - every out of place hair, if they spit when they talk, the lot.

I'd love to say my intentions for seeing the play were honourable. That I wanted to see the story (which I'll get to in a bit). I can't, in good faith, say that. I wanted to see Danny Dyer up close. Fangirl-ish of my I know. I wasn't the only one there with that attitude mind, and I can at least say I wasn't naive enough to dress like I was out on the razz in case Mr Dyer noticed me in the crowd and whisked me off to a hotel. Sadly, a few young ladies there took that tack.

Onto the play. The story is actually a pretty good one if you're a music fan. Its set in 1994 just before Kurt Cobain kills himself. He's sitting there, shotgun in mouth when lo and behold, Sid Vicious walks in. Thus follows about an hour and a half of their conversation. Their experience and perception of fame, the drugs, the women, their wives, even their homelands.

I'd never really seen anything Shaun Evans had been in, but I was mightily impressed with his portrayal of Cobain. The picture above doesn't make him look anything like Kurt Cobain, but the press shots were obviously taken a while ago as his hair is longer and has been dyed that perfect grunge-bleach-blonde. He looked the part and managed to channel that sense of melancholy that seemed to ooze from his pores. You really did feel that he was dead inside. That life and fame and the burdens he put apon himself had leeched out every bit of life from him.

As Sid Vicious, Danny Dyer was pretty good. I can only say pretty good because what I'm absolutely aching for is to see him do something where he isn't cockney. That's not to say that I think he's a bad actor - I don't at all - but he's definitely typecast and I'd like to see someone take a chance on him doing something else, He has done Pinter in the past (as in WITH Pinter, not just in a play written by him) so I'm sure he's got some acting chops. None of this should take away from the part he played though. The swastika t-shirt, studded cuffs, leather jacket and spiked hair were right on the money, although part of me would have expected some safety pins stuck through skin somewhere. I wasn't much familiar with Sid Vicious but he played him with perfect british-nihilistic-sarcastic humour, but with a warmth to it which surprised me.

It could easily have been a very depressing play, on the surface its "dead guy tries to stop suicidaly guy from killing himself and fails" but that wasn't the case at all. The dialogue between the two characters was very funny, much as you'd expect to see between two people so similar but from different places and times.

My only criticism was that for the type of play it was I'd hoped for some slightly more intense interaction. I found the second act to be a bit slower than the first and I think that in the dialogue there was the promise of things being a little more heated between the two. Overall, I really enjoyed it and was pleased to have seen it. I love stories which focus on the people and anything dialogue heavy always floats my boat (possibly explaining my love for Kevin Smith and Woody Allen films) and this is exactly that. The cherry on the cake for me was that the venue was so small. You're literally in that attic with them. If you were in the front row and put your legs forward you'd have been in their way!

I was born in 1982 and so I was much too late for punk and just a teeny bit young for grunge, but I've picked up on both in recent years and certainly feel that the characters tied in with my perceptions. I also learned a few things too. I hadn't realised that Vicious was 21 when he died, nor did I know Cobain was 27. My age, which got me thinking a bit. He'd been a megastar, a husband, a father and got to the point where he felt it was all pointless in such a short time. Its tragic.

If you're interested in seeing it, its on until 3rd October.

http://www.kurtandsid.com/