took to world record-breaking in
2004 after being inspired by a record-setting rally
driver in Kenya. What began as a hobby soon escalated
into an active publicity pursuit. Today, he promotes the
work of social and environmental causes. For these
purposes, the most fitting game plans are chosen; then
world titles are attempted and frequently created.
Wall Street Journal:
Shaking On It in Times Square
If you would like regular exposure from Alastair's activities, become his Sustaining Sponsor:
- A range of attempts annually
- Your brand in multiple media
- Distribute your own media releases
- Receive product endorsements
Behind every world record attempt is the expertise of professionals in their field.
Their success underpins Alastair's.
|They are listed here|
Most gloves put on one hand in one minute: 10
This is the story behind my Guinness World Record™ for the Most gloves put on one hand in one minute.
Admittedly, I have a fascination for a multitude
of things that could bring me world record acknowledgement. Basically,
I am committed to falling in love with anything that can bring me such
recognition – and that's the way life should be. I certainly wasn't
born with an attraction to gloves, but I have indeed developed one.
A large world record-breaking celebration was
planned and I had to think up ways to take part. Sometimes this takes
many hours, days, or even weeks of effort. But in this case, I found it
easy to decide: I'd do something with gloves. What exactly, I hadn't
decided, but I had time.
Since I was relaxed about it, perhaps the
detailed plan came to mind more easily. After fleeting thoughts of
eating a sliced up glove or biting a pair to pieces, I chose to put on
as many gloves as possible in a single minute. It seemed feasible, and
I knew that with effort, I could do a lot. My first task was to find
the perfect gloves.
In the nearby shopping centre – one of the
country's biggest – I spent a day hunting down the ideal make and size
of glove. Each shop I entered wanted to sell me mittens, dress gloves,
medical ones, children's gloves with toys stitched to them, welders'
gloves, food safety ones, fingerless gloves and more. That's to be
expected, but I defended my right to inspect each and every one for as
long as I wanted to, before making any choices. From shop to shop I
roamed, visiting a select few up to 4 times. Staff weren't impressed –
it appeared they only wanted a quick sale and nothing else. But my
attitude was that any world record was much more important than these
people, and my body language clearly told them so.
Because I understood the importance of getting my
purchase absolutely correct, I was in no hurry. The decision came down
to a very small selection and eventually I made a choice. Next, I
needed to return home to spend many more hours devoted to my new
gloves. I knew it might be mundane to put on glove after glove, then
take off glove after glove, and then put them all on again...
Nevertheless, I was prepared to do it, only because I was chasing
another world record. Unlike in the shopping centre, I was then in a
great hurry to out-speed my every attempt.
On my furniture, I laid out all the gloves I'd
bought. Timing myself and putting on gloves simultaneously wasn't easy,
but it was barely achievable. To be honest, anything I set my mind to
looked possible if I saw a world record title arising from it. So what
could be so tricky about putting on a few gloves – nothing. During the
first practise, I tore a glove, stretched many, and ruined most of the
others in one way or another. Being practise only, I wasn't concerned.
After all, I was in charge of these gloves, and I'd decided to
over-work them all to get what I wanted. What's more, these were shops
full of gloves if I did need more.
That didn't happen. It took me less than a quick
hour to master the art of carefully pulling on gloves at speed. Each
time I tried, I generally went fractionally faster; as far as I could
tell from my inaccurate timing. This seemed to be a no-stress world
record attempt. My very real fear was, since it was terribly easy, that
somebody else would succeed at it before I did. When that disturbing
thought came into my mind, I rushed back to the sofa to practise with
zealous fury which even surprised me!
the seating, the floor, my
hand, and one even flew off when I was removing them, to land on the
bathroom tap! I couldn't have cared less what my house looked like
right then. All I was desperate for was to achieve this world record
before any other person alive. In a bizarre change, my heart began to
slam against my ribcage. That made me nervous and once again, I hunched
over the couch to pull gloves onto my hand as fast as possible. But oh
In my enthusiasm, I'd broken or torn so many, I
had no option but to return to the shop. Not worried about the cost, I
grabbed the bag and speed-walked to my sofa yet again. This was too
important not to succeed at. With unusual excitement, I spent time
pulling on the gloves, pulling them off and pulling them on again. It
was becoming some strange fun. Since I'm a little different to other
adults, I have to admit that I liked it.
Then, as quickly as I'd become enthusiastic, I
lost interest in the repetition. I was being stupid, I felt. That was
my mind speaking to me, but my head – in this case – wasn't going to
tell me what to do! I stood up, stared square into the large wall
mirror and pulled a tongue at myself with mock-fury. That should tell
my cautious mind what I think of it, I said out loud. With those words,
I sank to the floor once more to continue my self-invented glove games.
My conscience never tried to voice its opinion on my glove fascination
Days later, my interest in the pile of floppy
gloves was waning. But my eagerness to prove myself to the world was
still high. Give me the chance to become the fastest glove wearer and
I'll show the planet what an achiever I really am, I whispered to
myself. I felt this at just the correct time – the event was imminent.
In the kit bag I carried to the event was a
smaller bag filled with gloves. These, I was confident, would soon be
world record-breaking gloves, as long as I could handle them with the
same skill I'd been showing at home. As my witnesses watched, I laid
out the gloves on a low table in the public hallway, oblivious to
passers-by. When the timekeeper was ready, I paid careful attention to
the seconds as he counted down. On the exact mention of zero, I lunged
forward and plucked the first glove off the neatly arranged pile. It
went onto my free hand very easily. The second was a problem. It got
stuck around my fingers, then it tore and finally it came apart. I
ripped it off and sped for the next. It too caused me stress by not
cooperating. And so did the following one!
But then something changed. I don't know what it
was, although every glove I pulled on after that went onto my hand as
if commanded to do so without any effort being required. It was all too
simple. The witnesses counted out loud, and hearing each successive
digit made me proud. I was tempted to bend over forward and kiss my
gloved hand in victory. But common sense told me that such a move could
mean I'd lose time and hence a chance of getting the world record.
Instead, I reached for the next glove. But it was already too late.
The timekeeper stopped me right there. Straight
away, I sat back and gazed up. It wasn't that I was feeling tired; I
just wanted to keep putting on gloves. This was addictive! However, I
had to control my urge to continue. Time was up, and I needed to count
the results. A minute later, having added up the glove tally on my
hand, it seemed the attempt had been successful.
That was wonderful, I thought. The attempt would
still need to be ratified, though. At that point, while completing the
required admin, I felt as if I was drifting in space. Something wasn't
quite right. This had been far too easy. The sense of having overcome a
challenge of some sort just wasn't there. I needed more of an obstacle
to arouse a deeper level of willpower within me. I wanted to rush out
of the building, fly away to record-breakers' land and break 100 world
records to compensate for the incredible ease with which I'd then
completed my latest attempt.
In reality? I stood there with my helpers, as
strangers wandered by, wondering if I could set myself a much higher
glove-wearing world record target next time. That thought still lingers
in my mind, so if you're considering this, take note. I'm still around,
I'm still the maddest object in the solar system, and I'm interested in
another attempt at this one.