The winners of the seventeenth annual awards, organised by Improbable Research, include:

• Chemistry: Mayu Yamamoto of the International Medical Centre, Japan, for developing a way to extract vanillin (a vanilla flavouring) from cow dung

• Medicine: Brian Witcombe of Gloucester, and Dan Meyer of Antioch, Tennessee, for their report in the British Medical Journal about the occupational hazards of sword-swallowing

• Peace: the Air Force Wright Laboratory, Dayton, Ohio, for instigating research on a chemical weapon to make enemy soldiers sexually irresistible to each other (the “gay bomb”)

• Aviation: Patricia V Agostino, Santiago A Plano and Diego A Golombek of Argentina, for the discovery that Viagra aids jetlag recovery in hamsters

• Nutrition: Brian Wansink of Cornell University, for exploring the seemingly boundless appetites of human beings by feeding them with a self-refilling, bottomless bowl of soup

All that leaves me feeling surprisingly peckish. For further details of a special commorative ice-cream, designed especially for the occasion (yes, you guessed – vanilla, but with a twist!), plus a series of FREE lectures tomorrow (Saturday 6th October), head straight for the horse’s mouth. Neither treat will be accessible to you if you are outside Massachusetts, unfortunately.

As pointless exercises go, collecting a copy of the latest Harry Potter at midnight Friday/Saturday comes fairly close. Because this is the last book expected in the series, and because the oldest Chip off the Old Hack was able to keep himself awake this time, I relented and we traipsed into town amid the latest Friday convention of Bath binge-drinkers to join the thronging hundreds in wizard costumes queuing up outside the two chosen bookshops.

There was clearly a Pareto 80/20 distribution going on, with Waterstone’s bagging the lion’s share of buyers in exchange for some form of goodie bag (or so I heard), while the smart money (KH and COTOH included), who did not want to stay up all night, chose the more down-at-heal WH Smith’s outlet, where a more straightforward and expeditious exchange of money-for-book took place. It was not really a party atmosphere, more like some tired observance of a ritual whose original import has been forgotten. The only spectacle was that of the muggle bingers taunting the Potterholics. Continue reading ‘harry potter and the messed-up circadian rhythms’

Behavioural economists have shown that we overestimate how much gym time we will use when signing up for monthly or annual health club membership; we’d be better off paying for individual sessions.

That’s certainly my experience. I was a member of a gym behind Fleet Street for a number of years, and never lifted a single weight. Membership was subsidised (modestly), but this was not complete profligacy, or an egregious triumph of hope over experience; the purpose of my membership was really to use the showers. My exercise regime involved riding a bike to work 130 miles a week in all weathers, so access to a shower was mandatory. I rode flat out, had no concept of rest and recovery, and would end up knackered, or — more scientifically — suffering from overtraining syndrome.

The idea of modulating effort and choosing to have rest days never crossed my mind — the mutant puritan gene at work. Progressively, after riding home from 12-hour days late in the evening following frequently pointless conference calls with New York head office, all the benefits of this excercise started to go into reverse. Continue reading ‘gym fees require heavy lifting’